Along with sweet tea, seems to me Nashville has an unquenchable thirst for estate sales, a designer “show house,” or, best of all, that subdivision smorgasbord known as a “parade” of homes. We’ll park in the next county, scale a ninety-degree stone drive in heels, or eagerly squeeze shoulder-to-shoulder on a shuttle bus, to see how the other half drapes, deconstructs, and otherwise decorates, as prevailing taste turns.

Now, thanks to a Nashville native, you can take the ultimate style romp, without the bus, the bickering, or the bunions…

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by Cathy Whitlock

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