What Pleasure Is There In Buying Antique Junk?
Eye roll, please.
Can you believe an acquaintance of mine actually asked me this question? Disrupted a perfectly polite, engaging conversation. You see, I was relating the adventures of my latest antiqueing excursion where I uncovered a Windsor chair that was admittedly, in a sad state. And for the life of her, my friend couldn't understand why I didn't just galavant to the closest Thomasville Gallery and buy myself a brand new one. Why on earth would I want a Windsor antique that would require a delicate balancing act while perched - simply to remain in an upright position?
But I wanted it badly. Never mind the rickety legs and marred finished. It's curving back, the slender hickory spokes and saddle-shaped seat blinded me to the obvious flaws. I do believe there has never been an ungraceful Windsor chair. Besides, I figured it was my patriotic duty to lovingly restore this gem to it's former glory. For Heaven's sake, Jefferson sat in a Windsor when he wrote the Declaration of Independence! Honestly, need I say more?
Then my dear friend said to me she would prefer a reproduction to antique junk. Bless her heart. She just doesn't get it, does she?
Well, there certainly would be little pleasure in buying antiques if they were to remain as "junk". Some junk is apparent, and some requires a bit of faith. You must look beyond the obvious and see what once was. Many a broken or hard-used piece of funiture can be pristinely restored to it's former strength.
Besides, reproductions are lacking a crucial ingredient in my humble opinion. And that's the infinite personal care of the past. Back then, furniture was designed with thoughts of your children and your children's children in mind. Also lacking is the tender or stately charm of association with history. Association with gentler times.
Try as we might, we can't truly reproduce a moment passed.
No, I didn't buy the chair that day. But I never worry about the pieces I leave behind. Someone, somewhere has a place in their present yearning to be filled with a momento from the past. Something solid and true that has withstood changing, turbulent times.
Maybe that's why antiques continue to fascinate and comfort a modern world.
Can you believe an acquaintance of mine actually asked me this question? Disrupted a perfectly polite, engaging conversation. You see, I was relating the adventures of my latest antiqueing excursion where I uncovered a Windsor chair that was admittedly, in a sad state. And for the life of her, my friend couldn't understand why I didn't just galavant to the closest Thomasville Gallery and buy myself a brand new one. Why on earth would I want a Windsor antique that would require a delicate balancing act while perched - simply to remain in an upright position?
But I wanted it badly. Never mind the rickety legs and marred finished. It's curving back, the slender hickory spokes and saddle-shaped seat blinded me to the obvious flaws. I do believe there has never been an ungraceful Windsor chair. Besides, I figured it was my patriotic duty to lovingly restore this gem to it's former glory. For Heaven's sake, Jefferson sat in a Windsor when he wrote the Declaration of Independence! Honestly, need I say more?
Then my dear friend said to me she would prefer a reproduction to antique junk. Bless her heart. She just doesn't get it, does she?
Well, there certainly would be little pleasure in buying antiques if they were to remain as "junk". Some junk is apparent, and some requires a bit of faith. You must look beyond the obvious and see what once was. Many a broken or hard-used piece of funiture can be pristinely restored to it's former strength.
Besides, reproductions are lacking a crucial ingredient in my humble opinion. And that's the infinite personal care of the past. Back then, furniture was designed with thoughts of your children and your children's children in mind. Also lacking is the tender or stately charm of association with history. Association with gentler times.
Try as we might, we can't truly reproduce a moment passed.
No, I didn't buy the chair that day. But I never worry about the pieces I leave behind. Someone, somewhere has a place in their present yearning to be filled with a momento from the past. Something solid and true that has withstood changing, turbulent times.
Maybe that's why antiques continue to fascinate and comfort a modern world.

