Long has been my journey of collecting. As a child I collected the usual things kids collect: baseball cards, coins, pretty rocks. As I grew into a teen I started picking up vintage items at junk stores (or so we called them then), and when I got into college, I literally scavenged abandoned houses, behind old buildings, through trashcans and rubbish heaps. Back then, in the late '60s, early '70s, it seemed to fashionable to me, to decorate my college apartment with old rusty milk cans and vintage crates. Somewhere in my early adulthood, I started looking more seriously at things I could afford that were a little more substantial. Although I never did collect antique furniture, due to finances, I did pick up a few things through the years that serve a more functional purpose, other than just cute collectibles to line my bookshelves.
I bought this trunk in the year or two before I got married. I remember the antique store where I bought it in South Pasadena. I paid $65, which seemed a lot of money for me. It was probably half a week's salary at that time. It's totally plain, weathered, not in the greatest shape. There is nothing decorative about it, except for the lovely curve of the lid. The wood is a light golden brown, the hardware is black and utilitarian. There are lots of scuff marks on the bottom (our family probably did ourselves with many moves, climbing kids, vacuuming, etc). It is cracked, and one of the leather side handles is gone. But it has held a variety of treasures, old clothes, seasonal wear, costumes, blankets. Today it sits in our bedroom, filled with some vintage clothing of my Mom and Dad's, plus some old clothing of my own I want to save. A few baby dresses. My holiday socks.
The inside is nothing special. No hidden compartments, no interior shelves or trays, even the lining paper is torn and shabby. Just a plain old trunk. I love it.
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