Tiny pieces of history

When I was young, I used to like shiny things, vivid colours and fancy toys. I don’t remember having ever worn second-hand clothes or playing with toys, which once belonged to other children. There was a clear preference for anything that came in beautifully wrapped paper and smelled new.

However, as I grow older and older, (alas the inevitable) I’ve developed a love for anything old.

1. I love old clothes belonging to an era before my time. I even own some and my favourite jacket is still my mum’s wedding jacket from the 70s.

2. I love old furniture, chipped and somewhat tortured. I found once a skip on my way home, where someone had disposed an old trunk, a little bit rusty with broken tassels and a lock no longer working. It is still in my flat and I simply adore it.

3. I usually find myself wander in antique shops, car boot sales and open markets, where one’s junk may indeed be my treasure.

4. I love old books with missing pages, broken spines, inscriptions on the first page and in a condition far from pristine.

I can’t help but wonder what is the reason behind this change in attitude towards old things. Is it because I grow old, so I identify with them because of similar age? Is it because vintage is so popular and in fashion that I am one more of its victims? Is it,  perhaps, because when I was a child my memory bank had just began its process of acquiring some substance, hence now that it is significantly fuller tries to recreate a piece or pieces of the past by touching, smelling collecting anything that  may carry a bit of secret history in them?

Often, I dream of who was the lady to whom my 1935 diary belonged, what did the owner of the old-fashioned theatre binoculars watched through them, who used my tiny French dictionary and what colour was the hair gently touched by the delicate hairbrush.

Tiny pieces of history…

About delightfullypeculiar

I'm Vasi, Greek living in the U.K. I wouldn't call this blog my sewing journey but an attempt to make and do the things that make me happy, sewing being one of them.
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