I am a voracious collector. I did my first dumpster dive at five, retreving from obscurity a treasure-trove of lead-laden makeup some lady had discarded, surely by mistake.
As my life unwound, I became a treasure hunter, always looking for that shiny thing surely hidden beneath the broken, misshapen, mold-covered pile of life that spilled out of junk shops, vintage stores, garage and estate sales, and the occasional dumpster.
Ebay has been a boon, and my husband, who was a seller for many years, taught me how to be a careful buyer.
As a small girl, I collected stamps, spending hours putting them in albums, loving the colors and exotic pictures.
I had a passion for vintage clothing, and I collected (and wore), dresses, suits, and shoes, mainly 1930s and ’40s.
Dollhouse furniture. Jigsaw puzzles. Fabrics and table covers of silk. Silver epergnes, pitchers, gravy boats, trays.
In my house today, there are three display tables filled with Art Deco compacts used by ladies of an earlier day who slipped away to the powder room to….powder their tiny, shiny noses with the contents of these beautiful things.
There is a tall Chinese cabinet in the dining room packed with porcelain Deco dancing ladies of all sizes.
I collect polar bear figurines, wedding cake toppers, Buddhas, Czechoslovakian vases, Japanese mud men, red kitchen stuff, deco chennile bedspreads, vintage jewelry, pop-up children’s books, small deco picture frames, polar bear and santa post cards, and finally (maybe). Fish tank items from the 1940s. (Yes, it’s a thing)
VORACIOUS. You were warned.