She had a fondness for things that were old, that were used, that were vintage. She had an affection for items that were frayed at the edges, that were dogeared in the corners, that were worn on the ends.
No matter the missing button. No matter the broken zipper.
No matter the chipping paint.
No matter the wrinkle.
No matter the gray hair.
No matter the varicose vein....
Because everything (and everyone) deserved a second chance.
Because she believed, truly believed, that middle aged and fabulous were words that went together......
But lest you think that she digresses, perhaps you might like to see some of her pre-loved items from the Marrakech souks....
A vintage Moroccan blanket in pink. How fantastic it would look upholstering a headboard. More importantly, their dog, Rocky, thought it showed off his complexion to great advantage.
Vintage kitschy peacock trays. A whopping 75 cents for each.....
Vintage silvered bowl with hand stamped patterns and blue handmade resin beads. (Set against ikat fabric for upholstering a chair at Peacock Pavilions.)
Vintage child's hat from high in the Atlas mountains. Dazzling with mirrors and sequins......
A mixed flat weave and pile vintage carpet in the loveliest colors.
A Moroccan coin headband from the 1950s on a handloomed light -as-air cream wool throw.
Embroidered appliqued peacocks on a vintage velvet caftan from the 1920s or 30s.
And so if you find yourself one day in the Marrakech souks, perhaps you will find her -- the disciple of Moroccan vintage....
