Hello friend,
I always like to think that antique pieces are the closest thing we have to time traveling. Not the dramatic “touch some stones and wake up in 1700s Scotland” kind like you see in Outlander (unfortunately), but the quieter kind — where a part of someone’s life slips through the cracks and lands in yours decades, sometimes centuries, later.
It’s the way a dresser drawer sticks that makes me wonder: did it do this for the original owner? Or the soft wear spot that has me asking what sat there for so long that it left that patina behind. These leftovers are proof that someone was here.
I was cleaning the shop this week and putting something away in this beautiful
pine console (everything becomes storage in our tiny shoppe), when I caught myself daydreaming about the life this piece lived before it landed here with me. Truthfully, the only thing I know for certain is that it was purchased by a mother–daughter duo in a little antique shop in the Cotswolds last summer. From there, the rest is a mystery — but a little mystery has never stopped me from telling a story.
I’ve been sourcing antiques in some capacity for almost ten years now, so when a piece finds its way to us, I try to use whatever knowledge I’ve picked up to give it a voice. With this particular base, I suspect it once held a plate rack or shelves on top.
So, let me set the scene for you -- it’s the 1800s in the UK, and you’re working in the kitchen. The stone floor is slightly uneven under your feet. Bundles of dried herbs are hanging for the ceiling. The wood-burning fireplace is going, cast-iron pots bubbling inside it, your family nearby. It’s time to serve dinner, and all that’s left is setting the table. This piece is where your dishes, utensils, and linens live. Somewhere along the way, the top was lost, but the base remained — dovetailed drawers that don’t glide like something from IKEA, little dents and scratches that prove someone loved it well.
With these small pieces of the story, I catch myself wondering -- Who loved this before me? How many family dinners did it witness? Did it stay with the same family until now, or was it left behind when they moved on? Oh, to know the stories it would tell us if it could talk.
So, I guess that’s the thing about old objects — they hold on to the small moments we didn’t even know we were leaving behind.
With love,
An Antique Dealer
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