Last Tuesday I ducked into my neighbourhood thrift store. I hadn’t planned on buying anything. But they get new shipments on Tuesdays, and I needed to do something else other than sitting at my desk.
If you’ve ever been to a thrift store, you know that the first thing to hit you is that musty scent of old stuff. It’s unmistakable, but for us hunters, it is the call of a lost treasure, waiting to be found. Ok, maybe not as dramatic, but you know what I mean. Everyone goes to the thrift store thinking they might score the next big find!
That day, the threat of an impending snow storm had kept the masses away. I almost had the place to myself, which in a thrift store is kind of an eerie sensation. As always, bulky furniture like credenzas, and hutches greeted me at the entrance. Once in a while, you might find a midcentury table with its legs poking out at cute 45-degree angles, but that wasn’t the case this particular Tuesday. Today it was all about dated, orange-tinted oaky stuff. The trip seemed to have been a bust already. That was until I spotted the lamp laying lopsided among what can kindly be referred to as a bunch of junk.
From the distance of several aisles I could barely make a carved bronzish base and only a portion of a colourful shade. It had all the markings of a Tiffany lamp. I kept my cool, not wanting to alert the other few hunters who had braved the weather for the catch of the day.
I approached the lamp and gingerly pulled it out of the pile of thrown together electronics. It was in an amazing shape. The patina on the heavy base had a vintage brownish shine. And the top had a gorgeous floral design with bright reds, greens and some blue. I turned it over to see if I could see any markings. No such luck. What I did notice was the price sticker. It was a steal. I mean, the lamp wasn’t authentic, but it also wasn’t a cheap imitation. The thing had been built with great care, and craftsmanship.
If you’re wondering, I did buy the lamp. I was planning to put it on the night stand in my bedroom. But it has claimed a more prominent spot in the lounge right by my old, very comfortable sofa looking absolutely stunning.
That’s the thing about thrifting. It lets you find your very own style. A great find rarely shows up screaming for attention. It isn’t always displayed under spotlights. Sometimes it’s tucked under a jumble of wires.
Modern retail often tries very hard to sell us the idea of instant chic. Entire stores dressed in neutrals. Everything arranged to tell us exactly how to organize and design. Thrift stores don’t do that. They offer choice.
And that freedom of finding something unique, something that celebrates your very own taste, that is what defines true glamour.