My Name is Amanda, and… I Buy Old Things.

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As a child I was told with some frequency that I had “an old soul.” Now, as an adult, I’m basically an eight-year-old in a grown-up body. And when this old soul and inner child unite forces, they create an unstoppable force on a mission to unearth… REALLY. COOL. OLD. STUFF.

It’s true.

I like old stuff, and I cannot lie.

You other thrifters can’t deny,

That when you find a pin in a glass display case

And its from 1958

You….. geek out and buy it immediately.

(I’m sorry. It had to be done.)

There’s just something about these things. Anything that’s lived a decade or more has had some kind of *life*. These pieces have a story. And it’s not just that they’re old. It’s that they’re still relevant. I’m drawn to the pieces that you could throw on today and walk down the street in, and no one would bat a lash. Or if they did, it would only be to acknowledge that, “Damn, girl. That is one fine (fill in the blank)!”

I’m fully aware that this is big girl dress-up. That’s what I love about it. Who says we have to stop going through granny’s closet and trying on all her hats? Why waste time keeping up with ever-changing modern trends when you can dress yourselves in timeless pieces that have survived the decades and still earn the same respect they did in their own time? (Not that it has to be one or the other – the old and the new play well together).

And then there’s the thrill of the hunt. Some may think of wading through seas of used clothing as daunting. They might not be able to stomach the patented thrift store funk (seriously, why do they *all* smell the same??), or find the way everything is smashed together on the rack too tedious. Perhaps getting up early on a Saturday morning and driving to the outskirts of town to an estate sale doesn’t sound like a fun time (seriously? what’s wrong with you?). However, I find few things as satisfying as going to these lengths to discover even just one, incredible piece. Makes it all more than worth it.

I took an archeology course in college once, imagining that one day I might go on digs to unearth ancient artifacts and, yes, maybe machete my way through the jungle to a long-forgotten temple filled with undiscovered treasures. In actuality, Intro to Archeology was some seriously boring sh*t, and that was my first and last class on the topic, and I became, instead, the Tomb Raider of Vintage Shopping.

And because it was all getting a little out of control, and I began to bring home things that clearly did not fit me (or at some point, my tiny closet), I decided it was high time to share the wealth. And thus, Blue Hippo Vintage was born. Because, you know, I need one more hobby.

When it comes down to it, though, I recognize this as me seeking the magic. The magic shouldn’t end with our childhood. But because adulthood in our society implies responsibility, practicality, and maturity, we allow these attributes to edge out the equally important set we fostered as little people: curiosity, imagination, fascination. This world we live in is ridiculously fascinating – and with imagination and curiosity the old can become new, the mundane can be most precious indeed.

 

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