Antique? Vintage? Collectible?

It’s 1960. A mother cleaning out the mess of her recently departed-to-college son discovers the Mickey Mouse watch he received for his seventh birthday. A tear glistens in her eye. What joy it brought him! Oh, well, he hasn't worn it for years, cost a mere $1.39 and isn't ticking. Mickey gets tossed. The next day an enterprising scavenger spots the watch between banana peels and coffee groups, gives it a gentle tap, and the mechanism starts to beat like a teenage heart. He hustles it to one of those those new "swap meets" that just opened at the Dixie Drive-In and sells it fast to a dealer for $6. Both are happy.

Fast-forward ten years. The young man graduated from law school and has a nice income. Strolling at his local swap meet, he spots what looks like his childhood Mickey Mouse watch. A tear glistens in his eye. Little does he know it is his old Mickey. He whips out $50 and is transported back to a kinder, gentler time.

So, what was the world like before all this happened? In the 1950s, antiques were regarded as artifacts from the early 19th century or before. “American antiques” was practically an oxymoron. The enterprise represents a snooty, genteel, old-wealth indulgence. “Victorian” attracts more dust than interest—it’s called “used” merchandise. Remember Alice Kramden? She was humiliated by the late Victorian dining set her cheap husband Ralph bought from a second-hand store to decorate their modest apartment, a standard part of the 1950s Honeymooners set.

Collectibles are stamps and coins. Vintage refers to wine. The parents of baby boomers were too preoccupied with raising a family and recovering from depression and war to engage in acquisition for its own sake. It took prosperity and peace to produce the self-centered consumerism to fuel a collectibles revolution based on nostalgia for your childhood.

As for “antiques,” the “real” stuff (18^th century) was very scarce. In 1930, U.S. customs had designated 1830 as the dividing point between antique and “modern,” the latter subject to import fees. Why 1830? There was no magic in “100.” Acting as historical wise men, bureaucrats decided that year represented the great demarcation between industrial and handcrafted goods. It also left plenty of room to collect revenue.

Boomer dolls and toys opened the floodgates to the recent past and soon baby boomers were collecting anything they could get their disposable income hands on. In 1978, Time-Life Books published a popular sixteen volume series, The Encyclopedia of Collectibles. “Antiques,” a term that brought to mind “stodgy” and “esoteric,” was used sparingly. The buzzword was “collectibles,” which embraced objects of more recent origin. Items heretofore considered ordinary were thrust into the limelight. The chapter subjects included Marbles, Compacts, Depression Glass, Jukeboxes, Radios, Ocean Liner Memorabilia, Cookbooks, Toasters, and much more. Organizing the series around collecting categories rather than time periods blurred the distinction between “antique” and “collectible.” How did boomers find all this stuff? One very creative way was dumpster diving. See boomertoyou.com under Collectibles.

The actual 100-year-rule didn’t get established until 1966. Authorities loosened up and decreed that any item made a century ago is “antique” and duty free; this is a flexible definition—not tied to a starting point—permitting more and more goods to join the club. Although the edict applied only to tariffs, it became widely accepted as the definition. That Honeymooners dining set? How could anyone know that twenty years later this “junk” would be refinished and sold for prices no one imagined at the time?

In the late 1990s, another major change began unfolding. A dealer spots a modern office swivel chair at a garage sale and snaps it up for $100. The Charles and Ray Eames mid-century piece fetches $2800 at auction. Today, “name” mid-century décor and furniture can go for “silly” prices.

What happened? In part, the explanation is as simple as “tastes change.” It was also due to the reality that new “old” merchandise, like the old “old” merchandise, was finite and growing scarce. People want to acquire, so what's available becomes more appreciated. Call it making a virtue of necessity. Or necessity is the mother of merchandise. What was scoffed at is embraced. What's left is treasured.

Shabby chic is a brilliant merchandising/decorating idea that literally rejuvenated mountains of old merchandise ready for discard. Faded, distressed, and stained become words of endearment. Rumpled, mismatched, and funky are “in.” Beat-up hardware and architectural pieces longing to be folk art find homes.

Granny chic spun-off from shabby chic. It’s a return to what “grandmothers” wore and bought as home decoration when they were young and hip. Suddenly, prices for near worthless 1950s “junk” rose.

Fashion collecting was transformed. Instead of Victorian wedding dresses and buttonhook shoes displayed in showcases, vintage and retro have opened the door to a vibrant new industry. Wear your collectibles! What were dimly lit secondhand “thrift” shops with racks of dreary old garments morphed into fashionable boutiques featuring haute couture to déjà vu trendy. The Internet spread the revolution.

Can’t find Art Nouveau jewelry anymore? There are plenty of Art Deco and vintage pieces. “Name” costume jewelry made in the mid-twentieth century enjoys a long market revival and remains widely available, dovetailing nicely into clothing markets.

Paintings are ageless. It’s only one factor in value and not the most important. You’ll probably never stumble across an Old Master or Matisse at a sale, but modern artists with offbeat styles could be lolling unrecognized at flea markets. Any David Park sells for six figures. Jason Pollack’s wild abstract No. 5, 1948 commanded $140 million at Sotheby’s.

Promoters had little choice. They make money selling spaces. The Original Miami Beach Antique Show, a bastion of prestige and authenticity boasting dealers worldwide, embraces 20th century furniture and “mid-century modernism.” The upper-end Modernism Show in San Francisco advertises merchandise from 1930-1980 but accepts even more recent items if unique and high-style. Flea markets with “antiques” reputations quickly followed these guidelines.

Harry Rinker, a widely read commentator on the subject, suggests that items from the 1960s and 1970s should be regarded as “collectibles” and anything before as “antiques.” Artifacts from the 1980s and later he labels “desirables.”

Ignore pundits and experts. “A rose by any other name.” Whatever you love, whatever gives you pleasure is worth possessing. Antique? Vintage? Retro? If it makes you feel better, attach a label.