I have thought about these drapes every time I have decorated, since I had my very first apartment. That was about twenty years ago. I have lived in at least seven places (maybe more) and in every place I have imagined where I would put them if they were mine. Truly.
You might not even notice them, even if you sat at my table and drank a cup of coffee. You certainly wouldn't have the same kind of affection for them that I do. These drapes were my aunt's when I was a little girl. We visited every summer when we were in the States. These drapes were hanging in a formal living room that we weren't allowed to play in. They matched a custom pair of wing back chairs. To me they looked like they came straight out of a magazine. When my aunt tired of them and redecorated she shared the drapes with my mom, who used them, for years.
A little over a month ago when my mom tired of them she asked me if I wanted them. What? Yes!
So I replaced the cinnamon valance that I have had hanging in my dining room as long as we have lived in this house (ten years this month, apparently my tastes don't really change too much). Amazingly, thirty-something years later and I still love them. I think I might be able to call them vintage, circa late 70'.
I am grateful it's my turn to hang them. If I haven't tired them in more than thirty years, then I don't imagine I will tire of them any time soon.
Is there an object, fabric or textile in your house that holds a story?