In the 80's I rocked second hand clothes from church rummage sales and as a teen I loved shopping in The Golden Peacock, a tiny consignment shop up the road owned by an Italian lady. The opera was always playing and the vintage items probably collected from many an estate sale smelled and felt like a million stories. Years later, I totally tagged it at yard sales always accompanied by my favorite Italians. I understood at a young age that they had an eye for the good stuff. The recent clean out of our apartment in Italy (where we made our first memories as a family 😢) was bitter sweet and while wiping out a very un-PC side table belonging to my husbands grandmother, you know, with a handle hand carved from ivory, I found this precious and very tiny ceramic telephone book with enough space to write the numbers of your five best friends. Isn't it amazing?