Photograph by Sarah McCosham
There’s a saying that “they don’t make things like they used to” and this is something I didn’t understand until I’d lived several decades. Thinking back to my childhood and the items my parents had (and still have) versus my own kids and the splattering of inexpensive toys, furniture, and clothes we’ve amassed—this rings true.
Photograph by Sarah McCosham
To save money as a new parent, I purchased furniture from places like IKEA and Target, filling my kids’ rooms with inexpensive furniture that Tony McCosham and I often had to put together ourselves. The kids’ rooms looked nice, at first, but these pieces failed to stand the test of time—and, well, kids.
The same could be said for the primary bedroom Tony McCosham and I share; our bed and dresser from IKEA’s Hemnes line circa 2008, our bedstands repurposed Pier1 end tables from our first home. It was mid and uninspiring and not a place I wanted to be, aside from sleeping. In short, the bedroom worked, for what it was, and it was difficult for me to justify any sort of redesign because I thought such a project would be prohibitively expensive.
Spoiler alert: I was wrong.
Inspiration struck one Friday afternoon as I was driving into Old Milford to meet up with my mom and I passed the Big Lots on Main St. I knew Big Lots had closed, but I didn’t know about the new tenant: St. Vincent de Paul. My mom and I made plans to meet there the following week.
Entering the Big Lots where I’d spent many an afternoon shopping with my mom and two younger brothers was wild—In a good way. The interior, though, looked nothing like what I’d remembered, save for the Big Lots branded baskets at the entrance. Instead of tightly cramped aisles, St. Vincent’s was large, open, and spacious, each section carefully curated and well organized. I was impressed! My mom and I spent a couple hours perusing the store and a set of dining chairs caught my eye; we needed two more chairs for our dining table, a relic from my own childhood, in fact. A quick inspection and Google search confirmed that these were Ethan Allen dining chairs from the early ‘80s, which retail for $300 each on eBay. The chairs were listed for $30 at St. Vincent de Paul, provided I took them off the floor the same day. Sold!
Photograph by Sarah McCosham
Emboldened and empowered by this success, I planned a trip to Dayton with Mary before school started. Our destination? Antiques Village, a massive vintage market I’d heard good things about. Antiques Village has more than 350 shops spread across 80,000 square feet and you’ll want to take your time because each booth is full of surprises. It’s easy to miss a piece of furniture, as items are arranged in a haphazard jigsaw that often obfuscates hidden gems. I had firsthand experience with this when I almost walked right past a dresser that was hidden by a large mirror. After uncovering it, I discovered a 5-drawer dresser, circa 1960, in perfect condition and with the tapered legs characteristic of mid-century design. I felt like an archaeologist unearthing an entire dinosaur fossil, perfectly intact.
I grabbed the price tag ($180, by the way—hundreds of dollars less than I’d paid for our IKEA dresser) and ran to the front of the door to check out; I wasn’t taking any chances.
Photograph by Sarah McCosham
Since then, Mary and I have visited numerous antique malls and vintage shops in Greater Cincinnati: at Half & Half in Latonia, I found a beautiful mid-century nightstand (Latonia is also home to Feel Something Vintage and The Roost, the latter a hybrid café-meets-antique shop that’s a true hidden gem); Covington’s Mustang Betty’s had the best framed artwork for my gallery wall; Flamingo Haven was an unexpected discovery just off Spring Grove Avenue, where I found an enamel bowl with red hearts for my makeup; and we struck gold at Riverside Centre Antique Mall, snagging an absolutely beautiful mid-century nightstand and dresser that I plan to use for our bed linens and TV stand. (My dad is helping me refinish these pieces, another unexpected perk of antiquing! Thanks, Dad.)
Anyone who loves antique shopping will tell you that it’s not as much an activity as it is an experience. It’s a way of connecting with the past in a tangible, meaningful way, while also looking toward the future. The dresser in my bedroom was once in someone else’s; someday, it will be passed on, again (probably to Mary, who loves antiquing as much as I do).
What a lovely, wonderful thought.
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