Yesterday I was in an unheated barn scouring through discarded furniture, and broken dishes covered in dirt. Seriously, my hands were so dirty I could feel the dirt like a glove covering my skin. And I realized I’ve never been so happy.
I get that my job isn’t for everyone. There are plenty of people who want to find unique vintage dressers but there’s unwilling to end up in a place like the barn I was in. Dark, freezing, dirty and in places sketchy on the safety front. Sometimes they’re sweltering, dark, dirty and sketchy so at least there’s some variety. Places like this fuel me. They always have.
I remember going with my parents through a salvage yard when I was a kid. I don’t remember what they were looking for because I was so caught up in my own reverie. There was everything from salvaged doors and windows to cute vintage sewing kits and everything in between. That place, like the barn, was cold, dark and not the safest place in the world, but I was enchanted.
Growing up I would have my parents take me to the Salvation Army and Ragstock for clothes because I loved vintage styles better than what counterparts my age were wearing. I still love a good peplum/pencil skirt combination.
I’m not sure why I fell in love but it’s never diminished. Not one single second. I’m so grateful to be able to climb through dirt and freeze my butt off and make a living. If you love vintage but not the hunt then I’m happy to do it for you and I am so very grateful.
Many blessings to you!