Sometimes I daydream that I have a real fairy godmother, and she shows up in my kitchen one night while I’m cooking, a big poof of turqoise tulle and glitter. She may or may not be wearing a Homer Laughlin Orange Tree Bowl as a hat. She waves a wand around and says, “My determined and faithful thrifter. I’m going to gift you $10 for every thrifting hour you’ve spent in an antique shop or thrift store in your lifetime.”
I daydream about this because that would mean some serious cheddar. Like “you get a car, and you get a car, and you get a car” level cheddar. I love Goodwill and rambling through the booths in an antique store. Just ask anyone who has grown old and gray while waiting for me.
Planters, jardinieres, thrifted paintings, curbside furniture, toleware sconces, vintage chandeliers, mismatched china, architectural pieces like old gingerbread from a Victorian house… these things make my heart go pitter patter.
But even though I love them, like everyone else, my tastes change over time. And the advantage of collecting vintage over new is that the resell market is usually always there. But as I was sitting and scanning photos of my old house, I realized that I have sold a LOT of things over the years. And I’m not necessarily happy about it.
I used to be insane about Pyrex. Couldn’t get enough of it. Then, after a few years I focused my love on pottery bowls instead. So I sold the Pyrex. I haven’t regretted it (and the proceeds allowed me to buy a few of the pottery bowls I had grown to love). I’ve collected little vintage animal planters. I loved those. But after a while I sold them and that was fine too.
But some items I’ve sold into the great beyond make me smack myself on the forehead. Like a McCoy planter in the prettiest cornflower blue. Or a vintage black rug with little birds embroidered on it (that still brings me almost physical level pain). I gave up some excellent curtain rods for a song. And I still remember my turquoise vintage phone. Granted, I sold it for about $20 more than I originally paid, but I still feel a little sniffly when I see this picture (and that little tiny phone nook in the hallway of my old house).
So my question is… what’s the solution? For those of us who love vintage and thrifted items, but every so often resell things, how can we avoid sellers-remorse? Do any of you have any tips for how you make these judgement calls?