Vintage Treasure

As a general rule, used things give me the heebie jeebies. Put me into a vintage clothing store, and watch me mentally unravel as I stand stick straight to avoid touching the origin-unknown apparel that inevitably protrudes into my personal space and begs my claustrophobia to send me running for air free of stale lint. My neurosis  prevents me from looking great in the unique pieces my friends always seem to find.

My neurosis extends to other, similar areas as well. I particularly hate it when someone else’s hair brushes against my skin, and I refuse to eat food cooked by a stranger, assuming that stranger is not a professional chef. I have my mom to thank for that one (which has surely saved me from many unwashed hands and stray hairs) because we were always forbidden from taking homemade treats from bake sales or cake walks. Unless you know I love you, please don’t invite me to a pot-luck dinner.

Amid my disdain for most things from strangers, there has been one bright, vintage treasure in my life. And of course, I found it in Paris. In a small antique store in the Marais. Amid yellowed school supplies and rusted house numbers. I found the perfect, stray, little shot glass. I love it’s thick glass, optimistic, yellow stars, and barely-scratched golden accents.

Of course, I washed it 101 times and have used it only once in a true moment of shotglassness. But every time I look at it, I can’t help but smile at its whimsical charm. My little, Parisian treasure.

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Comments

Vintage Treasure — 3 Comments

  1. Oh my gosh…I’m laughing so hard I have tears!! I don’t know if I should apologize or ask you to thank me!!

    My advice to all: When buying from a bake sale, avoid anything that looks homemade. We don’t know if that mommy keeps a clean kitchen and washes her hands!! The same rule does not apply to beautiful shot glasses.

    xoxox

  2. Your story was funny but sad. I love thrift stores and the things I get from them. My husband works in a salvage yard and brings me fabulous treasures people have left behind. Why buy new things where there are so many wonderful, perfectly in tact, useful things languishing in thrift stores, resale shops, and at flea markets?

    I eat from bake sales, food trucks, scary looking restaurants, and I absolutely love a good potluck dinner. And I have never gotten so much as a good case of the runs from any of it.

    P.S. I’m looking forward to making your paella and maple dijon chicken.

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