My favorite thing in my bedroom is a little antique lamp that sits on my dresser, with its ornately decorated, cut glass base and cream-colored fabric lampshade, yellowing at the edges of its pleats. At night, it casts a warm light into the corner of my room, illuminating its surroundings with a soft glow. It makes me feel nostalgic for a time I never knew. This deep connection and admiration I feel towards a simple lamp has made me think more profoundly about humankind’s affinity for antiques. 

Whether it be an antique lamp, vintage sofa, or black-and-white photo, items like these transcend time and appeal to people of all generations. But why? Why is it that trends come and go, things go out of style, but humans still have this innate fondness for items of the past?

One-of-a-kind items in small, independent antique stores first draw me in by virtue of their rarity. I often find myself being pulled towards the nonconformity of antiques—the idea that I will never stumble upon this exact item again, with the exact same paint chip or the exact same earthy scent. I become invested in the story of this item. How did it get that scuff? What historical events has it seen? Whose hands have touched its delicate edges? And as I hold the antique in my own arms and bring it into my home, I become another little part of its life narrative. 

Antiques tell the stories of their respective eras. When I look at my lamp, I am reminded of its past owners and origin. It was produced by Imperial Crystal and China Company: a 1980s glass, china, and crystal company based in western Germany that specialized in vases, tableware, and glass lamps. I stumbled across the lamp at an antique market in a tucked-away corner and I was immediately captured by its detail and elegance. Owning this piece of the past is a way to see history without living it. The lamp feels authentic, with a thin layer of dust in its crevices that I never want to get rid of because it is a reminder that the lamp has not always been mine.  

When strolling through an antique shop with creaking wood floors and the musty scent of old books, the scent of a life well lived, I am creating a bridge connecting me to people of the past, like being dropped into a 1970’s film, taking a walk down a city street, window shopping, and marveling at little trinkets behind pieces of glass, just out of reach; a feeling completely distinct from modern day. It is a period of time I will never live, but walking through that antique shop and seeing with my own eyes items from long ago, I feel as though I am preserving a little piece of history or an untold story through a lamp on my dresser.

It is one of my deepest desires to travel back in time and experience an era of the past, but while I wait for time travel technology to be created, I’ll savor the pieces of history that are antiques.