Welcome to VintageValerie.com.

 

In 2005, I eagerly registered the domain name “VintageValerie.com” on the World Wide Web. It’s a nickname I’ve always loved. Maybe it’s the alliteration? Vintage Valerie. For sure, it’s a name I associate with my lifelong passion for all things retro. My favorite collectibles include Weiss and Miriam Haskell brooches, along with a small selection of exquisite hand-beaded evening bags. Vintage truly defined my signature style, dating back to high school. Regardless of age, be it 15 or 50, a designer bedazzled brooch makes my heart flutter.

 

Year after year, I’ve continued to pay for the renewal of the website. Now, over two decades have swiftly passed, and at 69, I realize these are the vintage years. Dictionary.com defines vintage as “things that are old, yet also kind of cool.” What 70s girl doesn’t want to be cool! But nobody says, “vintage” woman. “Old” seems to be the operative word. There was that day at Dollar Tree when a junior high boy hollered at his mom, “How many times do I have to hold the door open for old ladies?” Charming. And well, there was that baby shower. My gift of books was opened up, and the 40-something-year-old woman next to me gleefully said, “I know another person just like you! She’s old and lives alone, and only gives books at showers.”  I resisted the temptation to add, “Oh, like the old woman who lives in a shoe…” and left the event proud that I did not allow every thought in my head to escape from my mouth. 

 

My transition to a full head of grey hair during COVID, Miranda Priestly style, has put me squarely into the granny category. Well, I think MeeMaw is hilarious, too. I’m just a few months away from the big 70. These days it’s easy to feel overlooked, as a non-contributing member of society. I think most every Baby Boomer will verify that as you age, your body often needs some work “under the hood”, but in your mind you are still 16 hanging around the hood of your first car. The day I got my driver’s permit seems like yesterday.

 

But here I am, in the last quarter century of my life. My eyes were really opened when I volunteered to assemble the memorial video for my 50-year class reunion in 2025. The Class of 1975 was almost 900 strong. Reading the list of over 100 classmates who had passed on was sobering. I remember reminiscing, “She sat next to me in honors English,” or “We were in physiology together and she made me dissect that rat.” Compound that with the fact that I design funeral programs for income, and every month I’m doing a tribute for someone younger than me.

 

This blog is primarily focused on Baby Boomers, hoping you will face all the days of your life with some urgency. Organize those photos, write love letters, hire an estate attorney, and, well, throw out that expired food in your refrigerator. Fine wine can age. Smuckers Grape Jelly cannot!