Vintage Means a Story to Be Told

I didn’t post a blog yesterday because it was Valentines Day. It’d get lost in the crowd of couple photos and I didn’t have much to say at the moment.

But, earlier I was sitting in the front porch swing, and was scrolling aimlessly through social media when I finally put my phone down and just sat.

While sitting, I thought. And with no noise to disrupt the calm, inspiration came.

I sat and looked out at the yard, the fields, my surroundings… I appreciated the 75 degree weather with a slight breeze. I thought about my life and the experiences I’ve had. I thought about my future and what it held.

I was thinking about my life in the form of a story.

This led me to wondering about my grandparents full life story. Or, my parents. From beginning to end.

Yesterday, people celebrated Valentine’s Day. They showed their loved ones a little extra love. Flowers bought, candy eaten, dates gone on, etc.

Love was celebrated.

But, yesterday hatred and violence was also shown. People lost their loved ones in Florida. The flowers, balloons, romance, candy and everything else didn’t matter anymore.

Their friend, child, coach, teacher, sibling were…gone.


My thoughts may seem a little sporadic and not put together, but stay with me.

IMG_4897.JPGI also started thinking about vintage clothing.

People love everything vintage these days.

Vintage clothes, vintage furniture, records, jewelry, everything. Even just the word ‘vintage.’

You pick it up – whatever it may be – and you touch it. You feel it – how it’s worn in and used. No longer a shiny, new penny but comfortable.

Do you ever look at a piece of vintage clothing or maybe a vintage couch and wonder about its’ story?

Where it came from? Who owned it first? What experiences did the person who owned it go through while wearing it? If the ring could talk, what would it say?

You wonder about the vintage pieces’ past. You admire it and find the unknown fascinating.

Then, maybe that thought trickles into wondering about the person’s past.

Who were they? Were they married? Happy? Successful? Did they have children? Maybe they traveled a lot. Maybe they were really lonely.

Their life could’ve been hard. What’s the worst thing they’ve gone through? How much heartbreak have they experienced? What words of wisdom would they give now if they could?

Some of us think all these things about a piece of clothing, furniture, an old record, a fixer upper house, etc.

But, do we ever think to ask the people around us these things while we still can? You know, view them with the same intrigue as we view vintage things.

Every person has a story. Every person has a past and lessons they’ve learned.

Every person is human.

When you look at the random guy in the grocery store or the elderly woman sitting alone in a cafe, they have a story.

There’s something to be shared and we so often pass these opportunities up because we’re on our phones, have our earphones in, the RBF (resting B face) going. Whatever it may be to avoid personal interaction.

Let’s change that.

Start a conversation. Get to know someone new. Ask your family more questions and hear about their lives.

But, also be one to welcome that random conversation.

You never know when you’ll lose that chance forever.

My heart goes out to those impacted by terrible acts of violence. May we all choose kindness, love, and the ability to see each other as people who have souls.


Let’s be friends!

IMG_2883.PNG @morganashley_w

IMG_2884.PNG @ThePoiemaLife

IMG_2881.PNG @morganashley_w


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