Updated 3/10/25
"bliss. perfect happiness; great joy"
Stepping into a thrift store feels like falling into a warm, soft blanket of nostalgia. It’s a quiet escape — a portal to the past where rows of VHS tapes, retro games, and worn-out books whisper forgotten stories. Sure, I could search the internet for a specific item, but there’s something magical about sifting through a stack of vinyl records, never knowing what hidden gem I might uncover.
I rarely go thrifting with a set item in mind. Instead, it’s more like a soft question lingering in the back of my mind: I wonder what VHS tapes I’ll find today? But you can bet I check every section of the store — because the true thrill lies in the unexpected. That’s the heart of nostalgia core — the pursuit of memories wrapped in vintage finds, even if they weren’t part of your own past.
Sometimes I walk away with a single item. Other times, I strike gold — like this signed copy of "Switch on the Night" by Ray Bradbury.
I usually give myself hours to wander. Thrifting isn't just shopping — it's time travel. Every vintage piece carries a history, a story, a quiet echo of someone else's life. And for a moment, their memories brush against mine.
Is it possible to feel nostalgic for things you never experienced? Absolutely. That’s the magic of the nostalgia aesthetic — it’s less about the exact era and more about the feeling. The longing. The comfort.
I could write about this forever, but words still fall short of capturing the feeling. So, I guess I’ll just call it bliss.
