In an effort to live a more simple, minimalist and less consumer oriented life, I have been doing spring cleaning around the house almost every other month for a few years now. My husband and I have a rule, that for anything that comes in, something equivalent has to go.
We don't really go shopping much, except for food or when we have visitors in town, and when we do, we are both very good about talking ourselves out of buying something (him more than me but I'm still better than most women I know). When birthdays and holidays roll around, we usually ask our families to either donate to a charity in our names, or not get us anything, because honestly we have everything that we need.
Alas, all those feelings go out the window when it comes to vintage kitchen and table ware (unfortunately I am the only one who feels that way as my husband does not agree with any of it). It can be anything; napkins, pots and pans, spoons, sifters, bowls, plates, and especially mugs. My heart starts racing, and I start having visions of outside picnic tables with that gorgeous brown glass pitcher full of some tasty summer libation that J just made. Or a wonderful spring salad in that lovely circa 1950 bowl, or how my day will be so much better after having coffee in that perfect flower mug. Sometimes, I can still talk myself out of it. But more often than not, whatever the object in question is, turns out the be unique or special enough that I just cannot help myself. Without even realizing it, almost as if I was possessed by the ghost of that object's original owner, I find myself paying, with a giant smile on my face, because I am just so excited about this find.
Such is my obsession that at one point in time, I used the low price of all things vintage as a main argument on why we should move to a city; and when my husband's grandmother moved in to an assisted living community, his parents and brother saved us countless boxes labeled " RETRO" of anything they thought we (or I) would like. In those boxes we found a meat grinder, an awesome aluminum pitcher and a giant brown glass sniffer and candy bowl among other trinkets now scattered around the house.
In one of my many moves, much to my chagrin, I gave my friend C some bowls that she had given me as a gift a few years before. I just couldn't take them with me as I wasn't sure where I was going, and I didn't want to just get rid of them because they were so awesome and had sentimental value. After returning to California, I found them in her pantry closet and immediately took them back (with her permission of course! I think...)
The good news is that I hardly ever regret buying any of those things, and they usually never leave our lives with the goodwill runs or the "one in one out rule". I cherish them, I admire them, and I plan delicious and heartwarming dishes or events for them. I arrange flowers in some jars, I keep fruit and vegetables in some bowls, I display them in quirky little arrangements of uneven numbers. I use them. And everyday, they make me smile.
The other piece of good news is that I usually find these treasures at a thrift shop (I admit however that sometimes it's right after dropping off a donation) so I hardly ever pay more than a few bucks for them (there were those two bowls that one time but they were totally worth it!).
The bad news is that the collection keeps growing, and as my husband likes to quote : " the things that you own end up owning you". But these things just happen, it's not like I plan for them!
The other day, after spending the afternoon at a friend's house, I decided to stop by a thrift shop and get him a frame for a lovely photograph of him and his dad with the family goat when he was a little boy. I didn't have any luck with the frames, so on my way out, I casually strolled by the kitchen section, when a little treasure caught my eye. It was a perfect old bundt cake pan (I don't have one) in the coolest shades of yellow (kind of ombre, both dark yellow and mustard) and as I leaned to pick it up and inspect the condition of it's inside (not a scratch) and its price ($0.99) I saw it: the most magnificent roasting pan/dutch oven, enameled, with a delicious design of strawberries and their blooms.
Not only was it in mint condition, it also perfectly matched my vintage cake stand of the same design. It was big, and it was good, so I knew it wasn't going to be cheap. After all, this is San Francisco, not that other awesome city from my story where vintage stuff is almost free. $13.49. That is still pretty damn good for a piece like this one.
As my husband patiently perused the t-shirt and jeans section, I pondered. What was I supposed to do? I knew we didn't need it, at all, but I couldn't just leave it there. It was so perfect! We don't have space for it, and I'm getting the moving bug again, so we will most likely be packing up our lives soon, and that's just one more giant thing to pack... But it was just so damn beautiful!
Another house rule, is that when thrift shopping, J has the right to vitto any purchase if he really believes it's not something I should get. So after some deliberation, I put on the cutest and most innocent face I could, to show him that I really didn't mean to do this ( I didn't, I swear!) but that there was just no way in hell those two items were not coming home with us. He is just a jewel of a man!
When we got home, I put on some gloves and scrubbed all the stains right out of it. Then I temporarily put it on top of the desk, where I could see it from the couch. The cake pan found a home hanging from a nail on the kitchen wall.
The next morning, as I enjoyed my coffee in one of my vintage mugs, and spooned the sugar from my lovely vintage sugar bowl that was sitting next to my old cake stand, I stared at my new treasures, with a giant sleepy smile on my face, and it dawned on me that sometimes it's not just the ingredients, but the utensils used to prepare it, as well as to serve it, that make a dish or a meal special.
There is no doubt that my collection is getting a little out of hand for our one bedroom apartment and our desire to have less "stuff". But I am sure that one day, when our kitchen is ours for good, and there are people always coming in and out of it, ready to sit down for yet another wonderful meal, I will look up on the shelves at all my finds, and be glad that I kept my eye out for them, and that my wonderful husband didn't vitto any of them. I look forward to writing about the first meal we cook in the Strawberry roaster. It's going to be epic!
