It's time to jump on the table and start sabering bottles of bubbly. Line 'em up. Pop, pop, pop. 100 sales!
But what's in a number?
It's the Saturday morning family ritual of slamming a few cups of coffee and getting out the door early for the treasure hunt. Gotta hustle. Baby meltdown imminent. Nina will most certainly develop a deep resentment for her parent's tireless thrifting charades and all things second hand. It's inevitable that only the mall will one day pacify her.
It's picking up the pieces after the house gets thrift bombed. Log and hang up the clothes. Clean up and display the tchotchkes, like this recently acquired black velvet art. Our house is getting weird.
It's a year of setting up a basement photography studio. Better camera. More lights. Still not there. Want to push my mannequins out into the high altitude Colorado sun to see how bright the clothes shine.
It's the pleasure and the regret of sending really special vintage pieces out into the world. The pleasure fuels the Saturday morning hunt and the regret fuels an ever growing personal collection.
And with that, a toast! Thank you to the vintage buyers who love a good thrill and to the vintage sellers that set the bar high. To another hundred.