I am an untreatable vintage lover. I ever peer at the dumpster and the area around it every time I pass by. T doesn’t really get it. Sometimes he looks at images or physical things I am gushing over, his eyebrows bend a little, “what’s that?”, he’ll ask. I’ll offer some sort of answer but he’ll look nowhere near enlightenment. But he’s totally cool with not attaining nirvana. I on the other hand want to lay my hands on all things that look shabby chic! Alas, it’s not an easy feat over here! I deal with the withdrawal symptoms mainly by ogling at the cool stores abroad.