It reminds me so much of my childhood, the smell alone just takes me back to being a little girl. I grew up and was raised around antiques from as far back as I can remember.
My grandparents were (and still are) collectors and have always had the most amazing treasures ever. I have countless memories of being a little girl and having my grandma sit me on her lap to show me her newest antique jewelry find and my grandpa showing me all of his antique toy trucks that he collected. Their house was surrounded with antiques, and only antiques. (They even had a working vintage stove in their kitchen that they would cook on.)
I love the shear smell of vintage antiques, all the dusty things for sale, the vintage clothing, and the people weaving in and out of the booths trying to discover their newest cherished find.
I love to look through the old postcards and Victorian photographs trying to figure out the story behind the people in them. Wondering how their lives were, what they’d seen, if they loved, etc…
I spent a morning out and about the other day and came across an antique shop that let me walk around with my camera in hand and allowed me to take some photographs.
I ended up taking home a couple of old Vargas prints from an original Vargas calendar from 1946. (I ran across all kinds of things that I wanted to take home with me.) I especially loved this old mannequin figure that I assume belonged to some kind of dressmaker in the past.
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