When I think about it from the beginning, it doesn't Really make sense.
What I grew up with, what I came from, and what I wanted for my future didn't have anything to do with perusing pre- owned goods.
I often hear stories about people that grew up with parents that would wake them up in the wee hours of the morning to wander flea markets, to find(hidden) treasures.
More often I would wake up and work on my forts in the woods, and want for shiny new things.
I did find myself at a few flea markets a young filly. My grandpa owned a spice business, and occasionally my mom and I would help him go set up. Because I was still an adolescent, I had no interest in moldy old books, or lamps that would drip wax when plugged in(dating myself here). The only interest I did show, was one Sunday, when we brought home our first dog, despite my Dad knowing nothing about it. She was Free.
It wasn't until high school, that I became motivated to again visit the marts. I had a boyfriend that was new to the area, and his parents bought a (truly) dilapidated house way on the edge of town. They had moved from Michigan and his Mom and Dad were re- doing the house, all in their spare time. They were honorable people, and I admired their handiness. Mike chipped in as well and was his
Dads right hand man. His Mom, Jan was justifiably the one who opened my eyes to Junque? And sometimes Junk. Jan wore cashmere sweaters, with her shopworn jeans. And that outfit right there has officially become my day- off jam. Mrs Vantatenhove was justifiably more Rachel Ashwell than Pioneer Woman. She helped my haul my first set of slipcovered chairs home from Cedarburg, back to Brookfield.
So maybe now, because of them, I want The Story.
I want to Save all the great pieces. I see certain things and they speak to me. I can almost immediately picture where they'll sit, or the space they will hang. There are pieces begging to be painted, or hoping of a promising re- upholster. I know I've mentioned that before and even now, it still sounds crazy.
Some people say they rather have 30 minutes of happy than a lifetime of settling? (well so would I) But I'd definitely rather have a household of the honorably painted, the wing chairs of the wealthy, or the glassware, previously poured by a great host.
But That's Just Thrifting, & my Thoughts on it.