12 January 2012

sometimes I wonder why it is that I like to surround myself with old things. I know the word "vintage" is so trendy and hip right now. but let me be the first to tell you, friends. from the moment the eight-year-old me put on that pair of green floral overalls and left the right strap unhooked. I am many things but trendy and hip are two things I am not.

and yet. I find myself seeking out things that are "vintage." things that have been loved by someone else and now are loved by me. from cameras to record players to typewriters and furniture. I love it when something was not mine first. when I know it traveled through all this time to finally land in my hands.

maybe it is the storyteller in me. the one who finds comfort in history and legacy and tradition. the one who is amazed by the idea that something had this whole life before finding me. to know that a camera once took pictures of birthdays and vacations and everyday moments of life. that it captured the ordinary instant for someone then like it does for me now. to know that a typewriter wrote letters to people who were loved. people who were dealing with life like I am dealing with life. to know that a record player has a million little imperfections but is consistent. consistent in its scratchy simple playing of songs I could hear on iTunes with perfect clarity. because sometimes I like not having all that clarity. sometimes I like when things are flawed and raw. that sounds just like real life to me.

so bring on the trendy hipster record shops. the "vintage" thrift stores. bring on the history. bring on the stories.

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