I say, dear, “Your mother’s collection of vintage toys is winsome.” Such eloquent words have never been spoken about my eclectic assortment of 1940’s toys, by anyone, at any time, at least that I can recollect.
Even if I can’t remember mom describing them using that term, she wanted me to have her toys to treasure.
I’m fond of the unique items, in a way. I inherited them, so I keep them. And dust them (sometimes). Yet, there are days, I tell ya, I wonder why? I also ponder, how in the heck to decorate with them. I give it my best shot.
The smaller items fit well in the curio cabinet. It’s old, it’s supposed to hold old stuff. Those items fit well together. And, they don’t collect much dust under the safety of closed glass doors. If dust makes it in there, I say it deserves to be there!
I have a picture of Mom with a doll and buggy. I still have the doll somewhere, in some box, but not this buggy. It was special enough for her to pose ‘all happy-like’ with it for a framed photo. I do love the framed photo.
The big-ticket-take-up-space item is her doll and buggy she received on her 5th birthday. I’ve assumed everyone keeps their mother’s first doll and buggy and knows exactly what to do with it? I can’t imagine it would work well as a coffee table? I suppose it could hold magazines, but the doll is in the way, and the material isn’t strong enough to hold much more.
The goal is to not mess with it much, keep it out of harm’s (cat’s) way, and out of the direct sunlight. It’s pretty fragile now that it is 72 years old. The list of what not to do with it dictates the location. I’ve resorted to letting it sit there, in the corner. It matches my eclectic style and creates a decorated space with a splash of 1940’s character. Not for everyone, that’s for sure!
Is it weird that I have her favorite doll, but I don’t have my own childhood doll? Nope. I don’t have it, not unless I gave it to my kids already? I’m pretty sure that’s not the case. I’ve been to their places, and haven’t seen it placed strategically in a prominent corner of their formal living rooms. Once they’re ready for it though, I’ll let them duke it out to see who gets ‘Nana’s doll and buggy.’
I’ll have to work on my sales pitch though. They grew up hearing, “Don’t touch – it’s Nana’s.” “It’s not a toy, don’t push it around.” “It’s fragile.” “You can look, but you can’t touch.” “Isn’t it pretty?” “Let’s just leave it here, let’s go find your dolly and buggy instead.” Oh my, why in the world would they want such a thing?
As a parent, how sad it is to recognize the harm of our words as we reflect. Figuring out how to recover words and revive my reasons for why I said what I did back when is something I find myself doing now that the girls have grown.
About those words of yesteryear…not only are toys I own relics, how about that word ‘winsome’? I don’t know about you, but it isn’t rolled off the tongues or released from fingertips of the youth nowadays is it? At least, I’ve not read it in a text, heard it on Skype, saw it on Snap Chat, Instagram, or Facebook? I can’t speak for tweets on Twitter. I had to draw a line somewhere on the number of social media eccentricities in my life.
Winsome was a commonly used word in the 1900’s. That’s it, mom must have used it and believed it to be true. She grew up at a time in history laden with winsome! No wonder she adored her toys and kept them? And now, it is up to me to get them resurged (resell them) by displaying, adoring, and dusting until their whimsical value is loved once again.
And…someday, someone else can decide their fate (unless they fall apart on their own by then). Maybe by then, they’ll be treasured as a winsome collection to adore once more?
PS…why in the heck I call this is the quaint revival blog is starting to make more and more sense…