“Don’t ever save anything for a special occasion. Being alive is the special occasion.” — Mary Engelbreit
I was having a conversation with someone this week, and this concept came up. She is a vintage expert who curates and sells so many beautiful pieces. From clothing to barware and décor, she brings the past into the present, keeping it relevant and real.
I was saying that while I love certain items of clothing that I own, I often don’t wear them because of the fear that I will damage them. I have two cashmere cardigans from the 1950s that belonged to my mother. They are amazing, but what if I wore one and caught the sleeve on something or spilled a cup of coffee? I’d be devastated if that happened, so they sit in my closet, wrapped up in tissue and mothballs, and for what? So I can look at them a few times a year?
Many people probably feel the same way, maybe not about clothes specifically but about good china, silverware, linens, and other treasures. I collect vintage Waterford crystal, but being the picky Irish wench that I am, I only want it if it was made in Ireland. Waterford creates its crystal outside of the Emerald Isle now, and while the workers are probably very dedicated and talented, I don’t want Slovenian crystal; I want Irish crystal.
I only have a few pieces, and I keep them on a shelf where I can see them. While it makes me happy to see a ray of sunshine hit a bowl and create a little rainbow, they don’t get much use. Except for one small toast last year for a celebration, the champagne flutes sit empty, as does the Lismore lowball glass I have since I started cutting back on my Jameson intake. No law says I can’t sip a fine vintage of chocolate milk from a Waterford glass, so perhaps I will make that a habit.
The problem for me is that the vintage clothing, the small collection of Waterford, and a few other pieces of family jewelry mean so much to me that even the thought of something happening to any of them fills me with dread. It’s not a money thing. I mean, I’m no millionaire, but my “good” jewelry is insured. However, the stone of a $20 ring fell out a few months ago, and it still makes me sad because the ring was a favorite; I found it at a vintage shop on a fun girls’ weekend, and I miss it.
Yes, possessions are just that— collections of “stuff and things” that matter to us, but when does it become less about the fear of loss or damage and more about enjoying what we have? If something is that meaningful, isn’t that the best reason in the world to share it, use it, and even show it off a little?
I just have to get past the disaster that I can be and stop worrying so much, but still, anyone who has known me for more than 10 minutes (five if we met during any kind of meal prep) knows the danger I bring to breakables, kitchen appliances, and any hard surface. So, between not wanting to ruin my mother’s vintage cashmere and making sure I don’t wreck the set of Revereware she got in 1962 as a wedding present, I find myself putting away the good dishes, the crystal, and even the alligator shoes with the matching bag because, “They’re special, mustn’t let anything happen to them.”
I want to work on bringing these treasures out into the light. Going forward, I will wear some of my vintage pieces more often. That bracelet from my grandmother might look lovely under the supermarket lights. Isn’t that their purpose? No designer sets out to make a blouse, a necklace, or a pair of shoes and thinks, “This will be great, 364 days a year in the back of the hall closet.” It’s a fashion show, not a fashion storage plan, right?
My closet, kitchen cabinets, and most of my shelves need a good edit, so maybe while I work on that, I can reorganize and put some of these items front and center. In the meantime, does anyone know what goes with a 1950s cashmere sweater? I have this pair of throwback ’80s jeans that might work.
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years, and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.
