My Guilty Pleasure
On the joy of visiting antique stores
I’m taking a break from my usual weekly life updates to bring you something so different, so unprecedented that you will probably end up thinking that I’m either 80 years old or the most boring person on the planet. Either way, I don’t mind. While my 12-year-old daughter is traipsing around in the woods near the Oregon coast with her classmates (hallelujah … haha), I’m revisiting an activity that I did back when I had more time, inspired by this lovely article I read this week. Hope you enjoy it. If so, please let me know by clicking on the heart button and sharing with your friends!
It's late afternoon in early March 2024 when I step inside Monticello Antique Marketplace, one of the most delightful antique stores in Portland. A mere ten minutes from my house, it houses one of the biggest, if not the biggest, collection of antiques I’ve ever seen. Everything from furniture to clothing to books to baby blankets and even Fiestaware can be found here. I feel like I’m in heaven.
Old things have always fascinated me. I’m an old soul, I tell myself as I meander my way through, looking at everything with fresh eyes, like someone who hadn’t seen planet Earth in years. Everything is so cluttered, and yet there’s a sense of order in the place. I can tell right away that the store’s employees take careful steps to display items in a certain way so as to attract every shopper that comes in.
Their meticulousness elicits a ‘Wow!’ from me as I see on my right, an Easter/spring garden display filled with teacups, porcelain rabbits, baskets of (fake) flowers, wreaths, containers for bulbs, gardening tools and more. I look to my left and see a collection of locally made soy candles nestled among potted plants, table lamps and religious paraphernalia. It’s a strange combination of things but it works.
I take a few steps down a short flight of stairs and are presented with more garden inspiration. The back area of Monticello is filled with big ticket items—mostly furniture, large pieces of artwork and outdoor oasis items. I’m greeted with a red velvet curtain as if I’d just stepped into a private booth at the opera. I feel fancy so I admire and stroke a beautiful dark wooden dining table (oak, I’m guessing) arranged with matching chairs on top of a large rug complete with a gorgeous chandelier. Behind it are tall white bookcases stacked together like floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and I think to myself, “This feels like home.” I snap a photo to use as a reference for my future home. One day when I’m able to have my own library, this is what I want it to look like.
It feels like forever ago, but back in the early days of our marriage, my husband and I would often frequent antique malls on our days off. Usually, this took up most Saturday afternoons. We were lucky enough to live within walking distance to an antique store and combined with a lack of funds, we thought, ‘What better way to spend an afternoon without spending a lot of money than to go to an antique store?’
Once we got to the store, however, we’d go our separate ways, telling each other, “Meet you back here in 30?” Well, thirty minutes usually went by quickly. Sometimes, an hour passed and we finally remembered to meet each other at our designated spot. I always felt thrilled at finding kitchen items. I may not be a cook but baking and breakfast have always been my thing so things like teacups, saucers, mixing bowls, whisks, coffee mugs, butter dishes and cookie tins always delighted me. Every once in a while, we’d find kitchen appliances that still worked. Toaster ovens, mainly. A really lucky day for me would be when I found anything with Betty Boop on it. I love Betty Boop, as if that isn’t obvious already.
Today, there is no Betty Boop, but I do find something that is absolutely enthralling to me—old family photographs. I used to see many of these black and white images at the store we went to years ago, and at Monticello, it’s the same thing. The photographs are not hidden; rather, they’re scattered about amongst varieties of small trays, their faces looking at you but you won’t see them unless you look down. I always wonder: how did these photos end up in antique stores? Did the families donate them because they had too much? Or was it that the people in these photos had no more family to keep photos of them? Were they the last of their lineage?
There are postcards for 50 cents, an intricate wooden carving of The Last Supper (amazing!), old Coca Cola glasses, and matches tucked in a handmade felt basket, costumes and jewelry from (presumably) the Jazz Age and beautiful colored glasses vases. My favorite postcard is the one of The Cathedral in Seattle, which is the St. James Cathedral that still exists today. So much history is embedded in these places and yet, we know nothing about its inhabitants.
I want to buy everything but I can’t. One, because the prices for these items aren’t what they used to be, and two, where would I put it? My house simply can’t accommodate these old things. Perhaps that’s the beauty of visiting antique stores—the idea of walking past history, so much of it, being able to take a glimpse but not grasp it entirely, for it has already happened to someone else. It is not your history to hold on to. The baskets have already been used. Same goes for the butter dishes, the plates, the bowls, the tables, the pots, the vases, and the chairs. What’s left are remnants of many lives, all converged into one place, each with its own sense of beauty.
Delightful Discoveries of the Week
Every post, I’ll share a few delightful things that totally made my week. Here’s a few this week:
On Wednesday, I needed to figure out what to do about dinner, and on a whim I bought this sauce (sold at my local Whole Foods) and it was…good. Quite good, actually. All you have to do is sautee your choice of protein or veggies in a pan, then throw in a jar of this brand’s sauce and let it simmer for about 20 minutes. It smells amazing and tasted great, too. Eat with jasmine rice, naan or throw in some chutney on top. We didn’t have naan or chutney so we just ate it with tomatoes and cucumbers.
Great Big Beautiful Life by Emily Henry
So far in 2025, I have not had the best luck with romance novels. This one, however, feels different. I’m 30% in and there’s just enough for me to want to keep reading…or listening, to it. It’s a story about two characters (and eventual lovers) who are both competing to tell the life story of a famous celebrity icon and recluse. Little did they know that the woman isn’t telling either one of them her whole story. I can’t wait to find out what happens at the end.
Thanks for sharing your guilty pleasure.