Annem antika parcalari ya vitrinlere doldururdu ya da kimsenin ulasamadigi yerlere. Bana gore, tabak tabaktir, dekoratif amacla yapilmadiysa eger icine yemek konup yenmek icin yapilmistir ve bu anlamda da kullanilmalidir -tabi ki bol camasir suyuyla yikandiktan sonra. Sonra o tabaktan yemek yerken, o tabaklarin daha once bulundugu koca ziyafet sofralarini, o tabaklardan yemek yemis insanlari, yemekten sonra o tabaklari yikayan mutfak onluklu kadini hayal etmenin verdigi zevk bambaskadir. O narin tabakta vakt-i zamaninda "chicken cordon bleu" yenmis olma ihtimali ve yine o ayni tabakta sizin bugun sucuklu yumurta yiyor olmaniz.. Eglenceli fantaziler bunlar.
I sometimes want to get rid of every little Ikea piece I have in common with a couple of million people in the world. I wanna live with unique vintage pieces instead. I've always had a thing for the vintage clothing but this is a new page. Since I've bought a pile of 12 plates with 4 matching teacups at my local flea market, my vintage craze took a new dimension. Couple of weeks after the local flea market, we've drove to another flea market, slightly further away in town and scored a glass pitcher with a silver lid, French Limoges porcelain ashtray, an art deco perfume bottle and a 1904 Nippon bowl with lid.
My antique obsession must be genetic, my mom had a pretty good collection herself, except she never allowed anyone touch them. Her vintage pieces were always displayed behind custom-made vitrines or hung high above on the walls. I believe that a plate is a plate and is made for eating out of. Plus the odd fantasies while eating out that plate totally adds to the experience. I love imagining the fine ladies and gents, gathered around in their fancy clothes for a dinner party eating chicken cordon bleu or boeuf bourguignon out of the same plates I've now filled with eggs and sausages.