Upcycling

For years, I've worked as both an interior designer and magazine editor where I've done everything from transforming a celebrity's home from boring to sexy boudoir, to producing magazine stories on creating the perfect Thanksgiving table settings using stuff you might have around the house. My philosophy toward doing it yourself was never about buying lots of stuff or supplies, but about making do with what you have and using basic skills to create extraordinary results. It wasn't quite recycling, and it wasn't quite crafting; it was what I called a hybrid of MacGyver (the resourceful TV spy)-meets-HGTV. Anyway, my diagnosis for what I did for a living came in the form of an e-mail from a producer at NBC's Today: after seeing everything I've done over the years, she wanted to book me to do a segment about upcycling. So now it was official—I was an upcycler.

Think of upcycling as a higher form of recycling. When you upcycle, the end result is far better than the material's intended purpose, and you end up with something that's pretty darn cool and all your own creation. Beware of its close cousin but polar opposite: downcycling. For example, a Tide bottle recycled into a bird feeder is what I call downcycling: it's still ugly, probably reeks of detergent, and no bird really wants to stick their head inside to feed from sticky seed. However, a plastic water bottle that is cut, manipulated, and painted to look like the most magical flower that might live, say, in Wonderland (see page 188) is upcycling.

As an interior designer, I've worked with celebrities who have multimillion-dollar bank accounts and want me to create comfortable homes that reflect their unique style. Since I'm also an environmentalist, they know that everything will be as eco-friendly as possible. For many that may mean custom-upholstered hemp sofas, reclaimed-wood end tables, and crushed-recycled-concrete countertops for the kitchen. But to me that also means salvaging from thrift stores and flea markets. So the celebrity homes you may have seen me decorate in the pages of InStyle or O: The Oprah Magazine feature tons of upcycling ideas that cost next to nothing to make: glass bottles made into vases, or an old IKEA light fixture found in the trash made into a charming birdcage chandelier (see page 24 to see what I mean!). Great style doesn't have to mean great big budgets; on the contrary, beautiful homes are created using ingenious decorating techniques, most of which cost very little to do.

As a magazine editor, my job has been to travel the country and find homes that are interesting and are decorated from a very specific point of view in the most beautiful way imaginable. The very best photos I've ever produced are the ones that feature nearly zero-cost ideas. One of my favorites involved a "collection" table filled with all sorts of found objects from nature: from oversized pinecones to dried mushrooms with tiny phrases carved into them. You just can't buy this from a store, and it makes a home, well, your home. These are the kinds of things I'm interested in creating.

Many people ask how I got started on this crafty path, and when I really think about it, it goes all the way back to when I was a child. In the seventh grade, I wanted to drive the message home to my peers that "throwing away" trash didn't mean it magically disappeared, but went to an overflowing landfill. So I got permission to fill all the display cases in our school with trash I collected from around the school in layers of paper, plastic, metal, and cardboard. Not only did it look like a modern work of art, it was also a cool way to get the message across. Unfortunately, it also became accidental gossip fodder for my classmates. One of the glass cases contained a breakup note from a girl who had intended to send it to her boyfriend and then had a change of heart and threw it away. The crinkled note was unfurled and pressed against the glass for all to read. Oops . . .

In my high school years, I ran a national environmental organization called Earth 2000 and campaigned all over the world on behalf of our planet's natural resources. But on weekends, the activist hat came off, and my inner crafter came out: I was probably the only teenage regular at our local flea markets, swap meets, and Goodwill store who wasn't dragged there by their mother. In my parents' basement, I reupholstered chairs I'd found on the streets with argyle sweaters, made colorful garlands out of beach sea glass, and recycled brown-paper grocery store bags into marbleized gift wrap.

Now in my thirties, I've made a career out of my passion for environmental concerns, combined with my love of crafting. And now I know it has a name: upcycling. With this book, I hope you'll be inspired to see that it doesn't take a lot of skill, money, or resources to make beautiful and decorative accessories, gifts, artwork, centerpieces. Instead, you'll be able to use things you already have. Not only can you achieve gorgeous-looking results that don't take a lot of time, but you can proudly say you did it yourself. Added bonus: you don't need to buy complicated crafting tools. In a way, I've given all of these upcycling projects a big ol' KISS: Keep It Simple, Sam.

In an increasingly disposable world, I think it's empowering to make something yourself and even reassuring that something you no longer use doesn't necessarily have to be shipped to a landfill. There's something calming and meditative about sitting down and tapping into your own imagination—and not Google—to come up with fantastic ideas on how to give something new life, new meaning, or a new use. Yes, we're crafting, and yes, we're being eco-friendly, but we're also taking control at the same time, too.

Creating Upcycling was an absolute joy that brought back so many childhood memories. It's a culmination of the best of the best, and I hope you'll try each and every project, and be inspired to invent your own.

Here are my essentials that I think every upcycler will need. The best part is that these are easy to find and inexpensive. Always go for quality, not quantity.