Passion for Vintage

Yesterday, another box of the vintage Shiny-Brite ornaments I won on eBay arrived. These were in the original box with Uncle Sam and Santa shaking hands. As I took each incredibly thin and fragile ornament from its box, I wondered what kind of Christmases each had seen. What presents had been unwrapped, what family meals had been consumed in their gentle twinkle? I felt privileged to be a part of their continuing history. I have one more box of them on the way, and that will probably end my collecting of Shiny Brite.

I have also been using my old cotton print tablecloths this season. My favorite one is a 1960's Santa and reindeer in reds, greens, and browns. It makes me incredibly happy just to smooth my hand across it on my table. Again, I can almost feel the "happy holiday vibe" coming from it. Granted, it could have been put away in someone's linen closet and never unfolded, but I prefer to think that maybe for at least one holiday, it soaked up some joy.

Currently, I am on the trail of a chenille peacock bedspread. I know just the colors I want, but I am having a hard time finding one in good condition and at an affordable price. A gorgeous one is up for auction on eBay, but the seller wants $250, and there's no way I can justify that. Hopefully, before summer, I will be able to find one that is both the color combination and price I desire. I think it will look great with the decor I already have in the house.

I guess I'm just a hard-core vintage junkie. Other prize holiday possessions are my previously mentioned Phil Spector collection and the absolutely lovely, sparkly Christmas tree pin I won at auction. I am going to wear it proudly to church tomorrow. Each of these items has opened up conversations with others: friends, parents, other collectors. This is one of my favorite parts of these things. My dad remembers having Shiny Brites on his family's Christmas trees when he was a child, and he knows, as did I, that my grandmother would have loved the Christmas tree pin. It's a connection to my own personal past as well as to the past of those who loved the items before me.

Another satisfying aspect of these things is finding their place in history. Nothing I have is of exceptional value; in fact, many of the things I enjoy collecting are fairly inexpensive. None of them are in the running with Waterford or Haviland for price, value, or historical significance. However, I've been learning a lot about these American products, and through them, I'm opening tiny windows into recent American history. Shiny Brite was made on a machine that was developed by Corning for light bulbs, and the peacock spreads were made in Georgia and originally sold off clotheslines to tourists. The tablecloths I love so much were a household staple brightening the kitchen tables of America for thirty years or so before they fell out of favor. These are the items that were common during my grandparents' and parents' time.

Now I have the joy of using these things and adding my own memories to the collections they already hold. There's nothing pretentious about these common-place treasures, but each time I unfold one of my vintage cloths, add a PEZ to my collection, place a hanger through the metal loop atop a Shiny Brite, or pin on my glittery tree pin or one of my other vintage brooches, I am making a bridge between the past and the present. It's a comfortable place to be.