I like antique. I did like them as a child and was growing up surrounded by them. I did love the smell of an old book, glitter of china and all the mysteries about the items - some had full history, some needed a story to make. Do not get me wrong, I like modern things, but it's great feeling, for example, using my granny's Singer which was bought for her wedding on 1907. Material value of such things do not bother me. My favorite things has no high market value and impressive price tags. They simply are priceless for me.
Few years ago I become a proud owner of this little bag which belonged to my grand grandaunt. It's in mint condition outside and inside, with so many little precious details, and the sateen inside...
Metal parts are plated silver but it does not matter because I simply love this little handbag - as a handbag and as a memory holder.
Now, when I look at this handbag, I always try to imagine my grand grandaunt... what she was wearing with it... Where she was taking it - knowing her, it was Opera for sure... But where else?
She was quite a lady - her husband was famous violinist, her brother - publisher and writer, and she had travelled a lot around Europe between the wars. Her last years were not so happy but she still had a lot of interesting peoples around, helping her ignore the reality.