Stillwater, the quintessentially perfect tourist town. It thrives on old time malts, saltwater taffy, antiques and beer. Being there makes me forget everything and time passes in a blink of an eye. I adore the warehouse sized shops brimming with antiquities and with junk (but I suppose that can be debatable depending on the buyer). It is like walking through an episode of Hoarders and stumbling across Antique Roadshow. The rarities are a delight, but the everyday artifacts are a marvel.
As Emily and I wound our way through piles of magazines, shelves of spice jars and bowls of old matchbooks, we couldn't help but wonder who and why anyone would have thought these things were worth saving. I wonder where every item I see and touch has been and what it might have meant to each person. I thumb through old postcards reading words written over 100 years ago and ponder about who wrote them and what they did. Despite the chaos, I am inspired by the simplicity of some pieces and the ornateness of others. I appreciate the quality, the design and the thought that went into each item, a concept that seems to have lost its way in this modern world.
I've been snatching up crochet doilies as fast as I can. I only have 5, but my goal is to get enough to eventually make a table cloth
I love these flour sack hand towels. Linens like this are easily found and cheaper than what you would pay for them new, plus they are hand embroidered with quirky vegetable people!
I am a sucker for Venetian trading beads. I love everything about them, the irregular shapes, bright primary colors, and simplistic designs.