When I walk into a suburban mid-century house with my sister, we're on the hunt for treasures that will make our customers happy — but we also like to marvel at the elaborate wallpaper in the bathroom. We have time now to sift through the junk drawers and basement bookshelves.
Within the last few years, we both were laid off from our jobs as writers and editors. While we continue to fling our résumés into the ring, we keep ourselves busy at estate sales and thrift stores. We come from a family of thrifters and estate-sale lovers; our mother was an avid collector with an eye for beautiful and valuable antiques.
She taught her three daughters how to find treasures in the junk —what to look for, how to bargain, and which cleaning potions worked best to restore items to their former glory. I've always enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, but I never imagined turning our shared love for vintage into a small business.
I sensed a wave of layoffs coming in digital media before it happened. A strange mix of optimism and despair coursed through me as I tried to regroup. I quickly landed a new job, only to be let go from that role a year later. Meanwhile, my younger sister had lost her job as part of mass layoffs at a major corporation.
We were both reeling while grieving the loss of our mother and now also caring for our elderly father in our childhood home. With the looming threat of AI, the job market looked bleak. Layoffs disrupt and disorient. It's hard to know how to spend your time when there's suddenly so much of it.
It's easy to sink into the couch and think your new job is just remembering to shower and watching every episode of "Love Island." Facing job loss — and the grief of losing both of our parents within six years — my younger sister and I first reviewed our mom's epic collection for items we could sell.
We also started hitting estate sales, thrift shops, antique malls, and garage sales more frequently. As we gathered more goods, I decided to make it official and established Travel Far Now Vintage, an Etsy shop, in 2023. I handle most aspects of the business — packing, shipping, and accounting — and I rely on the keen curatorial eye of my younger sister, who can walk into any estate sale or thrift shop and score the most unusual vintage items hidden in the heaps.
Together, we found unexpected joy during some of the most challenging years of our lives. There's no shortage of tasks to fill the time — from sourcing to cleaning, listing to packing, shipping to accounting, posting, and connecting with new clients — the business keeps us energized against the lethargy of layoffs.
Consistency is key. While we continue to search for meaningful full-time roles, running a vintage business keeps us alert, active, and curious about the objects we collect within an ever-changing marketplace. Luckily, no two days are alike. There's always someone looking for that exact vintage object that connects them with the past.
Running a vintage business is the ultimate crash course in grief, with lessons on letting go at every turn. There's an alchemy to this work. By giving abandoned objects a second chance at life, I've developed a deeper appreciation for the fleeting nature of time.
I've come to think of myself as a "memory merchant," dealing in nostalgia through vintage objects and the stories they tell about our lives. When a client reaches out to me about an analog Sunbeam timer for sale, it's not just about the timer, but about connecting with a core memory in their childhood kitchen.
Hearing these stories helps me connect with my own memories and make peace with the past. Our vintage shop is an ode to our mother — the ultimate thrifter and sifter — who taught us the ropes. When we're out shopping, we always hear our mom's voice in the aisles.
"Do you know what this is?" she asks with a twinkle in her eye. "Yes, Mom, we know," we answer, and continue scanning the shelves for more unique treasures. Operating this small vintage business with my sister has strengthened our bond as we remember our mom together.
The search alone is therapeutic, but it's also immensely healing to know we can breathe new life into old things.