Over the weekend I paid my Grandparents a visit.
I actually went because they’d had a bad car accident a few days previously, and seeing as I was in the area that weekend (I live 150 miles away) I thought I’d check in and ask them to be more careful in future. The snow was starting to come down heavily in Norfolk and we wanted to make it back before we ended up stuck on a single carriageway in the middle of a forest for 10 hours, so sadly we couldn’t stay long.
Understand, I didn’t go to their house with the intention of leaving with bags of swag. In fact my own Mother had informed them not to give me anything “until she’d checked if she wanted it first”. But when I left I took a Victorian tin opener, 2 vintage rain coats, the hand mirror that matches my hair brush to go on my dressing table, and this…..
Now, that might not look very exciting to you, and I probably wouldn’t get 99p for it on eBay, but for me it’s very precious.
It’s my Nana’s sewing bag from school. My Nana is about 5 years younger then my Grampy and they didn’t meet until she became a WREN after the war. So while he was spending World War II aboard the HMS Belfast helping to sink the Scharnhorst (If you don’t know the sinking of the Scharnhorst story then follow the link, it’s quite interesting) my Nana was still at school.
My Nana, being a hard working, conscientious kind of girl, much like the rest of the women in our family, took her sewing with her one night after school so she could work on it at home. The rest of her class, being feckless and of inferior moral fibre (or possibly just further ahead with their sewing project) left their sewing bags at school.
That night the school was bombed, taking everyone’s sewing with it.
So what I have here might not be intrinsically valuable, but it’s irreplaceable.
This is why I love vintage clothing, furniture and all the other nick nacks I fill my house with. In this case I know the story behind this every day item and that makes it really precious, but all vintage has it’s own little stories and history.
The brand new and boxed pair of 50s gloves in a special Christmas box from a department store might have been bought as a present for someone and kept for a special occasion that never came.
That vintage tea set might have only cost £6, but once it was someones “best” china, bought out for celebrations and special visitors.
Our 1930s wind up portable gramophone was once the equivalent of someones iPhone. The exciting new technology that they could take on picnics for music on the go.
Essentially I’m a soppy old cow, and as well as being particularly fond of the lady like and elegant looks of the 30s, 40s and 50s, I also like the sense of history and being part of a bigger story that buying vintage lets me tap into. Sometimes I’ll “rescue” items that will never be wearable or usable just because I can’t stand the thought of all the history that’s behind it being left sitting unloved in a warehouse or being destroyed by someone who doesn’t care.
This is the reason I never throw things away, and the reason my house is such a litter of beautiful clutter, and I kind of like it that way.
Comments
23 responses to “The History of Things, or Why I Love Vintage”
A wonderful story, and I have ‘purloined’ a few bits from my grandparents myself (my mum likes to keep an iron grip on anything, but some slipped through the net…) and they’re so precious.
I agree about the tea sets. That’s the saddest, I think. How cheaply you can buy what someone once saved up for YEARS to own… 🙁
That’s such a wonderful story and a very precious item.
I’m exactly the same when it comes to vintage items I love that they all have a story and a history behind them One of my fur stoles has the intials LJ embroidered into it and I often wonder about the glamourous Lady LJ that wore it before me and the parties she would have attended.
Definitely on the soppy side. Your nana’s sewing bag has such a wonderful story behind it, and it’s great that the colours are so strong after all this time.
I’m a terror for old books, especially old craft books/ annuals. I always wonder about the people who wrote their names in the front.
I do that, we got a Dickens book, dating from the 1940s and inside were some childrens drawings of bombers going over and little flashes of colour were bombs were falling.
I wonder what happened to them.
This is also why we have a silent musical teddybear. It was the last one in the shop, sat in a bargin bin and it’s ‘squeeze here’ button didn’t work. it looked sad so we bought it.
That is why a) Our house is full of tat and b) we must never visit an orphanage.
Not tat, beautiful clutter.
I am irretrievably soppy. I love imagining all the stories behind what I wear – even the flaws take on new life. For instance, I have an unlined 40s evening dress with a lopsided zip at the back. I like to think someone nagged their mother to make it for a dance, and the mother dutifully obliged but couldn’t be arsed with the lining, and when the zip came out wrong just went ‘screw it, it’ll do’.
Ha! You’re as bad as me 😀
I invent little stories, I’m sure they’re all true!
Lol at Mr Chick 😀
What an amazing story. I feel absolutely the same way, though it’s photos that get me.
Wedding photos, men in uniform, children on their first day of school. I feel so sad at the thought of all of these memories being chucked in the bargain bin at boot sales.
A great story. I love to know the stories behind the things I find too. Its so much more interesting than paying £x for an item at an expensive fair.
Totally feeling this. What a wonderful thing to have, totally irreplaceable.
I’ve got a vintage fox stole that was my boyfriend’s Grandma’s. Unfortunately I have no idea of its history but it must be interesting because Ben’s Grandma was a vegetarian, gave money to local animal shelters and was not the sort of person you’d expect to have fur.
I inherited it after she died and no one in the family knows where it came from.
Wow. What a TRESURE!!!! How lovely to know the story of something – and to know the person it belonged to.
You already know that I am just as soppy as you when it comes to vintage trinkets. Not a day goes by when I don’t look at my humble haul and think “who did this belong to… what has that item seen”.
Glorious post as always 🙂
I cannot spell. Tresure is similar to treAsure!
So true! We have some lovely old things of my aunt’s- glasses that are high 50s kitsch but went with all her famous ‘good times’ stories. Worth a few quid but definitely priceless memories.
I love the fact that you still have Grandparents!
How wonderful to yalk with the real vintage fashionistas about their heyday! Love it!
I love the fact that you still have Grandparents!
How wonderful to talk with the real vintage fashionistas about their heyday! Love it!
How lovely to have such a keepsake! I have started coming back from mums each time with stuff, this time 2 old candlewick bedspreads one of which I’ve used through this cold spell!
Hi there,
Just to introduce myself as a big fan of your site. Just wondered if you have visited Retreat Vintage on Magdalen Street – I am supplying a range of frocks by “Spencie Darling”, I use Vintage patterns with novelty type prints. It is an adorable shop with the lovely Dave and Joline………I recently bought an amazing 50’s clutch and matching belt. I will be coming to the Kissmass Burlesque and am planning a 50’s dress in a Gone with the Wind fabric. xxx
I think you summed up what is so wonderful about vintage. You story of the dickens book gave me goose bumps. I love old books, I have a few that are so old and have liottle inscriotion on the inside. I just can’t bare to see them left on a shelf looking so unloved and unwanted. x
That is so beautiful, I have my nanas button box which is full of 1920’s-40’s buttons, I love it. I don’t use any of them but take them out for a look every now and then
What a great story!! I think anyone who’s into vintage has a love for the bigger story involved. And I’m a bit sappy too 🙂
Sappy? Oh yes! Foolish? Maybe not… If everyone else can get excited over dinasour bones, why can’t we get excited over old china and priceless treasures like your Grandma’s sewing bag.
What a wonderful story to be able to pass along!!
xox,
bonita