Announcement    This shop name is best pronounced if you pretend for a moment that you are Inspector Clouseau. You know, it gives us a faux Paris flea market appeal. 'Cept we're in Alabama. And the flea markets here mostly have socks. Vintage Squalor declines to decorate with socks.

When peers walk into my home for the first time, they invariably say, "Your house reminds me so much of my grandmother's!" Usually they manage to include in this statement a touch of nostalgia combined with a smear of disbelief and a hint of distaste. Of course, most of their homes look like furniture store showrooms, and while there is something to be said for their clutter-free and clean-lined lives against neutral walls, I enjoy what I like to think of as my happy clutter (that often borders on chaos--thus, the Squalor part of our shop name) and colorful home. So I am learning not to take so much offense from such sensibilities.

In the meantime, I can't help returning to the yard and estate sale circuit every Saturday. Every single person in my family suffers from this problem. It just has to be genetic. And I married a man whose family has the same problem. Our kids will probably wind up being hoarders.

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