When most of us think of the word “patina,” we think of the way time has caressed a building or a piece of metal, changing it’s character and often making the object more valuable. One of the things I knew I’d miss most when I sold my ranch earlier this year was the patina of the Little House’s 100-year-old, corrugated tin roof.
There’s something charming about the word “patina.” Wouldn’t it be great if we used patina to describe what happens to us as we age instead of “age spots” and “wrinkles?”
In the case of metals–like copper and bronze–the changing of colors is accepted as natural. The Statue of Liberty, for example, gets its green color from the natural patina of time that forms on its copper surface. Many new objects are deliberately distressed to simulate patina, antiquity and value. If you watch “Fixer Upper,” you know Joanna Gaines loves to paint and distress wood tables. When I was in my 20s, I wouldn’t have dreamed of buying anything that looked old or worn. I bought pristine Mies van der Rhoe Barcelona chairs and a new leather coffee table with cool top stitching. Over the years, they’ve both developed their own patina that have become precious memories.
The Barcelona chairs were a favorite resting place for Blanche DuBois, my beloved calico cat. Then there was the time some friends sat in them and ate buttered popcorn during film night at our house. The caramel leather cushions–with their tiny pinpricks and dark spots–now remind me of Blanche and my friends.
The oversized, square, leather coffee table was often the place where we had fondue dinners for anywhere from four to eight people. We all sat on the floor, dipping our fondue forks into boiling oil, or hot melted cheese, dragging the contents across the leather table to our plates.
The same leather table was sometimes a work table that held x-acto knives, superglue and paint thinner for building and painting balsa wood kites we flew on windy days. On the 4th of July, we dumped the contents of dozens of smaller fireworks onto a newspaper and used the gunpowder to power larger rockets we built and launched when it got dark. The table was so large, sometimes I sat crosslegged–in the middle of the table–to be closer to friends seated around the other sides.
It wasn’t until 20 years later when an interior designer offered to buy my “battered” leather table that I began to appreciate it. She said the patina was something you couldn’t recreate, and she could sell it for five times what I paid for it. It was then I began to buy 200-year-old, threadbare Oushak rugs and old Fortuny fabrics to cover pillows.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if instead of calling them age spots, wrinkles and thinning hair, we referred to these natural effects of aging as our patina? Even better, wouldn’t it be wonderful if the younger generations would value the patina of their elders instead of writing them off as just old?
26 thoughts on “IT’S NOT AN AGE SPOT. IT’S MY PATINA.”
So true, that we have more value as we age and that it comes from all of our life experiences!
Priceless, no matter how we look on the outside!
We’ve fallen short in this country about teaching our young people to value their elders. xoxox
Thank you for this beautiful piece, Brenda!
I sincerely believe that when we make peace with life and accept growing old as an inevitable fact of life, then we will age gracefully and accept each other without any judgement.
Philippa,
I believe you’re right, but that’s hard to do now that we’re all so youth/Kardashian obsessed. Our culture of judgement sets us up to be disappointed in ourselves and how we look. I’d like to be around when Kim K is my age. I imagine she’ll be disappointed as well.
XOXOX,
Brenda
What a beautiful piece, Brenda. You painted a picture of it all with your words. I love the idea of developing a patina instead of age spots and wrinkles. I’m going to refer to them that way now. Thanks.
xob
Thank you, Barbara. You’ve always been a beautiful woman, so you have a great foundation on which to develop your patina. xoxo, Brenda
This was so appropriate because we are in an antique car show this weekend and many of the old hot rods have patina. Nicely and beautifully done Brenda
I wish I were with you! I love antique car shows… and antique airplanes. Thank you, sweet lady! Brenda
What a lovely way to frame our feelings about aging. Thanks, Brenda.
Thanks for stopping by, Liane! Brenda
I am completely stealing this phrase! I have two additions to my patina, lately!
LOL! What? Two grey hairs? You have a long way to go before you have anything to worry about. xoxo, Brenda
I’m with Susan – I will be stealing this phrase! Great post!
Since we both love design and architecture, patina is a good word for you and me. xoxox, B
I love this concept! My patina is rich with memories 🙂 I just adore how you write, Brenda! Xx
Thank you for the lovely comment, Jennifer. I appreciate it. xoxo, Brenda
I like the concept of patina rather than age spots.
I had to explain to my young trainer what age spots AND patina were. So funny! Brenda
Wonderful perspective!
Deanna, At this point, it’s the best spin I can put on things! LOL! Thanks for stopping by, Brenda
I love your train of thought! Makes me love my patina more than before!
Sarah, I imagine it was fun to see Kim K in person. Her patina keeps changing, but she looks great! Thanks for stopping by, Brenda
Love the patina idea. I have lots of well loved leather furniture as well: there is nothing quite as beautiful. I’m also a Fortuny fan: nothing beats the classics! Leather, silver, art, women, and wine: long may they age!
Jen,
I’ve found a house I love and have made an offer. We’re in the option/inspection phase so regardless what happens, I must believe it will be for the greater good in my life, but I want nothing more than to fill it with “Leather, silver, art, women and wine.”
xoxo,
Brenda
What a life you’ve lead. I love looking through it with the words you choose to share with us. Quite visual. What lovely furniture and the age spots? I love my patina’s! 🙂 xo
Well said
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