Vintage, as I once knew it, most often related to fine wine. Now, the very word Vintage conjures up all kinds of things for me, most of which I love and long for: Vintage clothing (my daughter’s favorite), Vintage jewelry, Vintage linens – Vintage, you name it, including wine, of course. Love and live for that, too.
Things are no longer just old or outdated – granted, the more valuable can be classified as ‘genuine antique’, but old is now Vintage. And that’s exactly what I am now as 77 is the next magic number. Actually, I prefer it to Senior Citizen and all the other elderly euphemisms used to categorize us. I am, I think, a Vintage Woman with faculties that are old, yet still intact.
I’ve always searched for old stuff. Flea markets, yard/garage sales, thrift shops and antique stores. Once admired, used and discarded things become a part of me and my surroundings; and each holds a memory of finding them.
In the cabin are two of them – the circus tent mallet from my first favorite up north shop, The Vagabond Lover – and the heavy tree stump that I had to have. As Bill carried it in for me, he muttered about the chickens who had lost their heads on it, and how could I have actually paid MONEY for it. You see, it’s not only the object of my affection, but the memories attached to it that matter.
There’s really not another thing I need; I should be ‘downsizing’as the word of the day seems to be – but, if I’m lucky, I’ll come across something small that strikes a chord. I hope my kids especially will love most of my treasures, and pass them on. They will then be truly Vintage!