This Weird Thing Was in Everyone’s House
May 20, 2025
Source: FB / Art NKdecor
This tall, wobbly wire thing I found at a thrift store last weekend. Black frame, curvy shape — seemed slightly artsy. Thought it was a wine rack. Spoiler: it wasn’t. I jammed a bottle of white into one of the slots and almost broke my foot when it shot out.
It was a wavy CD rack.
The one we all had a few years ago when you still needed shelves for your music.
The Coolest Tower in the Room
If you were a teenager in the late ’90s or early 2000s, you know what I’m talking about. Mine was positioned up against my stereo — boombox, technically, with speakers covered in stickers and a tower of burned mix CDs labeled in Sharpie with titles like Road Trip Vibes and Sad But Bangerz.
I rearranged them constantly. Alphabetical one week, emotional scale the next. One slot perpetually in rotation as my “current obsession.” It was ritualistic, even, part rite, part identity crisis.
The Design Was… a Choice
The curves, the wood knobs on top — no one saw it coming, but we all went along with it. The CDs clicked home with a nice snap. Truly, the experience of opening a Spotify playlist.
I Tried to Use It for Wine. Mistake.
Back to the thrift shop. I gave it a new home, assuming I might be able to find some use for it. First idea: wine rack. Nope. The bottle just rolled right out like it had something better to do. Not built for that. The slots were built for jewel cases — thin, square, exact.
So Where Did They All Go?
Most of them were thrown or shoved into the garage, along with our old flip phones and broken DVD players. Some are still extant as quirky towel holders or plant stands. I’ve even seen one advertising magazines. But the real use? CDs. End of story.
Those racks were for people who had their music library memorized. You could go into someone’s room, look at their rack, and be like, ‘I know you.
We Let Go of Something Simple
We swapped jewel cases and rack towers with infinite scrolling and algorithm fatigue. Music resides in clouds, not on shelves. But I miss seeing everything so beautifully laid out. It felt solid. Personal.
So, yeah, if you see a wavy, CD rack in the wild, get it. Not because you’ll use it, but because it’s the last time music actually had weight — both physically and emotionally.
And if yours still has a dusty copy of Now That’s What I Call Music 7, congrats. You win nostalgia.