Her shop looks like a living room. There is another life in it and its household members have characters from the novels of Stefan Zweig or Thomas Mann.
The living room is warm and smells like mulled wine. We listen to old Zagreb singer-songwriters vinyl and look at photos from family gatherings in the 1960s. We drink red wine from porcelain glasses and look for signs of fate etched in the black coffee grounds on the walls of a Venice coffee cup.
Her name is Nidžara and her living room is filled with the lives of interesting people, biographies imprinted in precious details she found somewhere. She has a special flair and a very good eye for what is hidden in someone’s closet or locked garret.
Because the vintage world is not just things on the shelf.
Nidžara reminds me of the women from Bergman’s films. Measured, sophisticated and full of internal dialogues that are felt as he speaks. She has a calm face and a pensive look, she is somehow sad and a little worried. She has a cotton handkerchief in her purse with embroidery. He likes to write letters with a pen. He goes everywhere by bicycle. He regularly calls his neighbours for tea and cakes. She loves poetry and her best time is going to poetry evenings, women’s gatherings with lots of smoke and guitar.
In the place where her shop is today, there used to be a famous tailor’s shop. Tradition and trust have left their magic.
As she tells me about Mr. Sinković, who made suits there all his life until his retirement, the comfortable armchair lulled me into a light sleep. I hear the sound of the sewing machine and the rustling of the material. Bell and door opening. In the voice of the young woman who comes to pick up the suit for her father, you can hear the restlessness. She is invited to the theatre that evening, but has nothing to wear. She is ready to give up. Mr. Sinković approaches her and gently hugs her. And then he took her to the closet where there are dresses that someone brought to be altered….
I open my eyes and see Nina arranging the jewellery on the shelf. The lady who brought her jewellery wanted a new lady to wear it. Why should it be locked away in some dusty box?
In the living room, the shop of my dear Nina, some new faces enter every day with the hope of finding a dress that will bring them luck that very evening. A hat from which a voice will speak that will lead us to the right place.
Thank you @mangostickyricevintage for the beautiful gathering.
