Semi-hoarding ...
Recently, I read this article.
And then -- I had a discussion about stuff in the interior design class that I am teaching.
I learned a lot from my 30-something students.
Bottom line ......... they don't want the stuff we thought made us grown-ups.
I remember 19-year-old me, sitting on the floor of the Flemish Lion with my best friend, ooohing and aaahing over hand-woven Belgium linen place mats that were made prior to World War I. I would touch the lovely soft cotton lace and said .... I will have a house full of lace!
I would look at crystal bowls and decanters .... and I would drool. And slowly, I would purchase a piece here and there. And into the china cupboard it would go .... and then on to the dining room table at my next dinner party.
I wanted beautiful china, old furniture with a depth of patina, heavy brass candlesticks and wool rugs.
I wanted embroidered pillowcases, sheets with tatted edges and sofas with deep down cushions.
I wanted a home that grew with time.
Classic.
Acquired over a life time.
A home with a heritage.
Because that meant I was an adult. Capable of managing a home, a dinner party, my life.
Now .... I have a house full of lace and embroidered guest towels and beautiful linen.
And guess what???
The 30-somethings don't want my stuff.
They don't want the pillowcases that don't match their sheets.
They don't want the sterling that has to be polished.
They don't want the embroidered down pillows, the crystal bowls, and the sofas with horsehair cushions.
My generation thought quality mattered. Pretty was important. And stuff connected us to the generations before us.
It belonged to grandma.
If I had a Waterford crystal ball ...................
I would see a lot of Minton china being sold at garage sales.
:(
And then -- I had a discussion about stuff in the interior design class that I am teaching.
I learned a lot from my 30-something students.
Bottom line ......... they don't want the stuff we thought made us grown-ups.
I remember 19-year-old me, sitting on the floor of the Flemish Lion with my best friend, ooohing and aaahing over hand-woven Belgium linen place mats that were made prior to World War I. I would touch the lovely soft cotton lace and said .... I will have a house full of lace!
I would look at crystal bowls and decanters .... and I would drool. And slowly, I would purchase a piece here and there. And into the china cupboard it would go .... and then on to the dining room table at my next dinner party.
I wanted beautiful china, old furniture with a depth of patina, heavy brass candlesticks and wool rugs.
I wanted embroidered pillowcases, sheets with tatted edges and sofas with deep down cushions.
I wanted a home that grew with time.
Classic.
Acquired over a life time.
A home with a heritage.
Because that meant I was an adult. Capable of managing a home, a dinner party, my life.
Now .... I have a house full of lace and embroidered guest towels and beautiful linen.
And guess what???
The 30-somethings don't want my stuff.
They don't want the pillowcases that don't match their sheets.
They don't want the sterling that has to be polished.
They don't want the embroidered down pillows, the crystal bowls, and the sofas with horsehair cushions.
My generation thought quality mattered. Pretty was important. And stuff connected us to the generations before us.
It belonged to grandma.
If I had a Waterford crystal ball ...................
I would see a lot of Minton china being sold at garage sales.
:(
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