For My Babcia: The Original Treasure Hunter

When I was a little girl, about twice a year my mother would load her five kids, and all of their suitcases, into our much-loved blue mini van and take off on a ten hour trip to Dayton, Ohio. Now, this endeavor alone says a lot about my mother. She happens to be one of the most capable people I know and her no fear approach to a trip that long, with a bunch of squabbling little kids in the back seat, makes me just that much more in awe of her.

One of my favorite parts about going to Ohio was visiting my darling Polish grandmother, known to her grand-kids as Babcia. This tiny, feisty, white-haired woman always opened the door with a cheery "hey everybody!" and I could hear the crazy squawking of her bird, who always tried to bite me, from inside. She usually had a soccer game on TV, or basketball, or baseball, or basically any sport would do, as long as it was sports.

Babcia with my friend's and I.

Babcia's house was always so exciting because in every nook and cranny were treasures. My sisters and I had endless fun exploring bins of Barbie clothes, funny toys, and random dress ups. It was for us, magical, because we just never knew what we'd find in Babcia's house and whenever she saw us with something she'd say, "Take it!" Babcia was definitely a gift-giver by nature. It was her love language, and her constant desire to give, reflected her generous, loving heart.

 I see so much of this spirit in my own mother, her daughter, whose house is always overflowing with gifts for every neighbor, and friend of a friend, or distant relative when Christmas rolls around.
My aunts, too,  have so much of Babcia's spirit within them and "treasure-hunting" has now become a regular part of their lives. Going to a thrift store, and walking out with the most random, awesome thing is pretty magical and my aunts are all fantastic magicians. I swear, it's like a superpower!

Babcia, and her six children. My mom's the one with the awesome yellow shoes.

So, recently, I realized that I have some of this spark within me, and that it's combined with my father, the ClockMaker's, entrepreneurial side. As a result, I decided to open an Etsy shop. With the help of my Mom, the expertise of my aunts, and the encouragement of my father, I recently took a leap and opened an online store called Honestly Ophelia Vintage, selling my own treasure-hunting finds.

And I just wanted to say thank you, to my Babcia, who started it all. I love her and I miss her, but I think she'd enjoy the fact that her love of unique, kitschy, awesome things is still very alive in her four daughters, and her granddaughter. So, thank you, Babcia! You're the best.


To take a look at my Etsy shop click here:
https://www.etsy.com/shop/HonestlyOphelia

To see my aunts' shops click here:
https://www.etsy.com/shop/Felcasattic
And here:
https://www.etsy.com/shop/QueenieBot

Sometimes, you just need to wear that little black dress!

There are moments when  my brain does this thing where it decides to present to me every unanswered question in my life ALL AT THE SAME TIME! "Where are you going with your life?" "Why don't you have that figured out yet?" "Oh, and why does your hair look like Barbie's after she was sucked through the lawnmower?" And usually this occurs during a week where I'm tired, or hormonal, or sick, or all of the above. So, sometimes after a week like that, a girl just needs to don a little black dress, put on a pair of heels, and dance with her man. And that's what I did.
 Granted, I think every woman loves those days where nothing in the world can make her lather on foundation, or mascara; those Netflix-bingeing, oreo-eating, "ain't- getting -up- for- nothing- other- than- the- bathroom" kinda days. But, on the other hand, once in a VERY blue moon, it's great to just feel pretty and have someone tell you it's true. After all, we women are beautiful creatures, right? We were made in a way that makes us, to put it simply, admirable.

The aforementioned little black dress, and the man.

So, dear lady readers, if you're feeling down in the dumps this February; if your skin is as dry and pale as mine has gotten, try painting your nails a fun shade, or attempting to create one of those 40 billion outfits you pinned on Pinterest from your own closet, or maybe treat yourself to a day of pampering. You might be surprised at how much of a difference the little things make. If you feel good about yourself, or maybe just a little more refreshed, I promise it'll show!
 Oftentimes, I find myself sinking into the daily routine, the endless motions of getting out of bed and drearily trudging to the shower, slipping into the most convenient outfit available, and heading out the door, only to find later in the day that I had a deodorant stain front-and-center on my shirt, which escaped unnoticed in the rush. Other times, just the idea of brushing my hair sounds as daunting as one of Hercules' labors. I think sometimes, I just forget to care, and to take the trouble to feel good about myself. It's an uphill battle most of the time, and especially during the months where leg-shaving is like bulldozing a miniature rainforest.
Obviously, your happiness doesn't come down to physical appearances, but  they certainly do help.
If not, there's always too much Netflix,  and never enough Oreos.