Antiques Like Me

For as long as I can remember, I have preferred old objects to new.   I prefer a home accessory that was repurposed from a soda shop or a bygone apothecary to a sparking glass vase from Crate and Barrel.   For me, it is less about style and more about soul.  An old object speaks of the many people who have held it in their hands.  It resonates with sustainability—the strength to endure.  It tells a story of productivity and achievement and comfort.   It has a patina that says, “I get better with age.”  Perhaps it is this latter point that attracts me.  Who among us does not want to believe that our own value and beauty will appreciate over time?

Many times I have heard people say, “They don’t make’em like they used to.”  Just walk through a good antique store and you will see how furniture used to be made.  Quarter sawn oak, fully finished drawers, dovetail joints—these are unheard of in today’s furniture.   There was a time when the quality of the product captured the pride of the craftsman.   A trace of the fingers reveals the loving hand of skilled artisans.  A rub with some oil brings out the resilient grains of patiently aged wood.

The world is full of treasures masquerading as cast-offs—pieces lacking the gleam of newness yet are nonetheless solid, functional and enduring.  They have years of life remaining, but they are overlooked by a generation addicted to bells and whistles.   This is where I aim my shopping compass; diving into flea markets and antique malls is my greatest pleasure.  I love the thrill of the hunt.  I live for the satisfaction of bringing a treasure back to life and giving it a home.

Today, antiquing is done in the name of green living—reuse, recycle, repurpose.  To be sure, there is something to be said about feathering our nests without expanding our carbon footprints.  But to antique thrill seekers like me, the joy is more than merely practical.  I derive value from the latent past that is embedded in these objects.  The stories they tell are welcome additions to my home.  They enrich our lives like the benevolent ghosts of revered ancestors, each in its respective place of honor.

  

By the time you read this blog, I will have hit the antiquing trail—awaking early to set out with an empty trunk and a wallet of small bills.  Perhaps I will add to my collection of Heisey glass.  Perhaps I will find an interesting stool that can be repurposed as a bedside table in the guest room.  Perhaps a small table will serve as a writing desk under one of our vintage typewriters.  Perhaps an interesting picture frame is begging to be spray-painted a whimsical color and fitted with a beveled mirror.   I can’t wait to see what my quest will reveal!

Tomorrow's blog:  Half Empty, or Half Full?