I am so excited to have Beth on the blog today! We have never met, but we are true kindred spirits: both former English teachers, bibliophiles, writers, wives, mamas, and lovers of good music. Someday, we will have the best coffee date ever. Until then, 140 characters and some emails will have to do.
This is one of the best things I've read about
loving vintage things EVER. Beth, you are a gem.
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When Amanda put the call out on Twitter that she was on the
lookout for a few guest bloggers while she and her sister were on vacation, I
offered as soon as I saw it, though I had no idea what I’d actually write
about. I write over at my blog,
Tiny Bables, mostly about motherhood and my
family life as it continues to evolve. So I’m thankful for a challenge, a
change, and a chance to do a bit of reflecting on my love of vintage.
I feel like I should first confess that I’m not really a
thrift-er. While I do enjoy a chance to rummage through a good thrift shop (in
person or online) every now and again, it’s not even close to being a regular
habit. I do, however, love vintage: pieces (whether a dress or a plate or a
dusty book or a tiny sterling coffee spoon) with a story, with time spent
elsewhere, will always hold a certain draw for me.
The more I thought about what to write here, the more I
realized that my love for “old things” winds its way further back in my life
than I might first-glance think. Maybe I could blame it on my
interest-leaning-toward-obsession of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House books.
Instead of playing house, or doctor, or school when I was little, I played
pioneer: complete with calico dress, sunbonnet, and outdoor cooking
demonstrations (much to my older brothers’ embarrassment). Let’s be honest, I
still sort-of wish I could work at Williamsburg. Where’s my butter churn and
spinning wheel??
Aside from my living-history aspirations, I loved playing
dress-up. But unlike other girls my age,
my dress up box (a vintage Ivory soap crate from my dad’s first job at Proctor
and Gamble) brimmed with 1950s and 60s finery from my mom’s dances and
bridesmaid duties. Here’s where it gets unreal, though--because she is a mere
4’11”, and during her teens and twenties barely weighed 93 lbs, I could almost
fit into her clothes! Her tiny gloves, the veiled hats, the tulle and
taffeta—what crinkly, beautiful memories for me (if only I could still fit in
them today).
In middle school and high school, my love of vintage
explored more modern eras: my first car was a 1970 Volkswagen Superbeetle:
bright red with only one owner before me—a little old lady from Pasadena (get
it?), California. I named her Eleanor
for my favorite Beatles song, and could be found in my original Levi orange-tag
bell-bottom jeans putt-putting to a Dave Mathews Band or Jump, Little Children
show. (oh, the 90s…) Even in college, I worked at a consignment/vintage store
in Forest Park Birmingham called Zoe’s. I’d wear a furry leopard-print 60s hat
with my black Gap jumper without batting a glittered eyelid.
But why this love of what some might call “used,” or “worn
out”? Even my home today is filled with new-only-to-us and not brand-spanking things.
I can count only three pieces of furniture in our entire house that we
purchased new (and one’s a Target sale ottoman, the other a couch from a
discount warehouse). We decorate with old typewriters, cracked-spine books,
lost-and-then-found-by-us treasures…every nook holds stories. Even my son’s favorite toys are ones that our
parents have pulled from their attics from our old toy chests. While some of this
has to do with the fact that we are both teachers and don’t have the finances
to buy a new living room set or re-do our bathroom, I don’t think we’d have it
any other way—even if we could afford it.
And here’s the quiet revelation I’ve had through thinking
and writing this out: I love vintage because I relate to it. Vintage is not
perfect, but it’s unique—it has character and is celebrated for its patina, its
experience. Vintage does not look quite like anything else, it’s not
on-trend—it is its own trend. Vintage has a history that is not ignored, but is
one that becomes part of the item. It’s a little out-of-the-box, and those that
celebrate “old things” appreciate that.
I know I certainly do. I’ll take a story over shiny any day.
