A recent post of Full Measure on her collection got me thinking about things I’ve collected over the years. My collections have always tended towards books (whenever I move, I bring my favorite tomes despite the weight) or personal adornment (I love jewelry!). I’ve never had an affinity for household ware. Imagine my surprise then when I found myself the proud owner of different pitchers. Yes, you read it right, pitchers.
It started innocently enough with a trip to St Tropez, a few years back. The weekly market had a stall selling provencal dishes typical of the region and I couldn’t resist this wonderful red and yellow hand painted one. I remember thinking how wonderful the colors would look in my yellow kitchen so I bought it. I thought no more of it.
Till last year when at a small antique fair, I found myself endlessly admiring this tall orange gold pitcher. I imagined myself making peach ice tea in it during the long scorching days of summer and inviting like- minded ladies for a long leisurely chat. I felt a little like a Southern belle with this particular one. Of course summer has come and gone, and along with it my summer party, but I have hopes for the next one.
|This photo doesn't really show the orange-gold color I love|
In Rome this week, we found ourselves wandering down a narrow street filled with antique stores (more on Rome in a later post) and while most of them were of the intimidating kind with beautiful paintings and furniture, one of them stood out because it was dusty and dimly lit and from what I could see outside, full of the most interesting things. It had a desk painted in the stars and stripes colors and an old model ship. I just had to enter. There was no discernible pattern or order to the things inside. Old desks sat next to carnival masks and old typewriters. Interesting but not anything I would have liked to take back with me. As I made my way out, I saw a flash of white from the corner of my eye. Hidden behind a stack of old books and papers was a beautiful white…pitcher. And next to it, an even more beautiful glass one. I should’ve walked away but as I’ve learned early on to ignore the voice of reason, I asked to see them.
The first one is from the 50s and is a handpainted porcelain one. I love its simple lines and gorgeous flower design.
But the other one, I just knew I had to have it. It is just plain gorgeous. It is a hand made glass pitcher from Venice and dates back from 1910. The decorative flowers were handpainted too.
|A close up view of the decorative detail|
What a wonderful souvenir to bring back home. And as I write, I see them, my burgeoning collection, all lined up in a row, and I feel an almost absurd feeling of glee. Maybe its time to have a pitcher party?