In case you didn’t already know this about me, I am
kind of obsessed with old things. Vintage things. Antique things. Beaten up treasures, as I like to call ’em. Any time I need inspiration or feel blue, I simply head over to my favorite antique shop, which, coincidentally, is about one full mile from my house. It is called Piccolo. And it is AMAZING. (And yes, I know I use this adjective quite a bit, but sometimes nothing else seems to suffice.)
It is a two-story shop with booth after booth of items that have been repainted or stained or hidden away in someone’s garage or attic for far too long. I love to look at old stuff, even if it’s not my particular taste, and think about its story. Why did someone turn that old bike into a planter? Who decided to make mason jars blue? What prompted someone to paint an old chair black, then green, then pink? So many questions with so many stories.
Here are some of my most recent finds:
1} I love the shape of this mirror – symmetrical and unique. 2} How much would you love organizing office documents in this postal station?! 3} I love chairs…and this one is fab! I may have to return to snag this baby!
4} I’m really digging this slate milk paint on this gorg buffet. A nice refreshed piece! 5} The detail on this coffee table is so eye-catching. AND it’s on wheels! This would solve the problem of having to pick up a table whenever I want to exercise in the living room…
6} Beach cruiser turned planter slash yard art equals lovely, or bc –> planter = lovely. Now that’s math I like 🙂
I think a part of me identifies with these old things. Not because they’re old or distressed, necessarily, but because even though they may be a little worn or newly refreshed, they were once special to someone. They tell a story about the person that used to own them, used to treasure what they were or the memory of who gave it to them. Every time I visit an antique shop, especially this one, I think of my grandmother. She used to turn worn out things into beautiful pieces in my grandparents’ home. I think that’s where I get my knack for it. Whenever I recover a chair or stain a dresser or even make a burlap memo board from a falling-to-pieces cork board, I think of how I used to watch her do things like that when I was little. I was mesmerized by what new things she could create out of someone else’s discarded treasures. Now that I am creating things for my own home just as she once did, I feel close to her again. I can smell her in the drawers of the bedside tables I stained…hear her in the creaks the aged window I hung on my front porch makes when the wind blows…see her smile in the sunny yellow fabric I covered her old camel back sofa in last summer. If she were still here, she would have helped me with every project I’ve done to make my first house my home. I am so grateful for the time I had with her and for all the things she taught me.
How about you? Find any treasures lately? Found any worn out furniture or knickknacks that remind you of someone?