Vintage and Vantage: A Saturday Story

I began the day at the farmers market, underwhelmed by the offerings but quickly reminding myself that every disappointment is one perspective shift away from satisfaction. I bought what I needed and didn’t find what I wanted that I didn’t need in the first place and left at peace with the outcome. 

At the art walk, I found a badass vintage suede jacket with fringe detail that fit.me.like.a.glove. A smooth, sexy glove that you wear with tight pants and a bad attitude. Although the price was right, my budget said Nope. Deep breaths. Walk away. Only to come upon a table full of vintage rings with chunky gems and turquoise. The kind I’ve been looking for. Budget was not budging. Same inhale-walk away-exhale scenario. 

Walking away from vintage is like walking away from love. Both require a little bit of guts, a little bit of acknowledging one's own bare (financial or emotional) budget. As for how it goes down: One will sting precisely in the moment you stomp past the point of purchase, while the other is more of a dull ache. In both cases, you'll be okay. Because you'll never walk away from anything or anyone you can't live without.

After I recovered from unrequited vintage love and walked boldly into Acceptance, I took Jezebel, my German Shepherd rescue, for a walk around the lake. Going into the water was a loud and clear hell to the no, but she did very well around some new people and new dogs. 

Despite my complicated nature, it really doesn’t take much to make my heart happy — and 80 pounds of Very Good Girl did it today.