From the journal

Vintage or antique? The difference, plainly

· by Katie, Dear Lois Vintage

Stand in any second-hand shop long enough and you'll hear the words used interchangeably: vintage, antique, retro, "mid-century". They're not the same thing, and once you know the difference, price tags start making a lot more sense. Here's the version I wish someone had told me when I started.

Antique: one hundred years old

The cleanest definition in the whole business. An antique is generally accepted to be anything 100 years old or more. It's the standard used by most dealers and auction houses, and it moves with the calendar. As of the mid-2020s, we've reached the point where 1920s Art Deco pieces are crossing the line into "antique" status, which makes some of us feel rather old ourselves.

Vintage: old enough to be from another era

Vintage is looser. The most common working definition is anything 20 to 99 years old: old enough to speak for a different era, not old enough to be antique. Some purists insist on 40 years; most of the trade settles on the spirit of the thing: a piece is vintage when it clearly belongs to a period style you can name. A 1970s Italian ceramic tea set is vintage. A 1990s pasta bowl is (brace yourself) also now vintage.

Retro: a look, not an age

Here's the one that trips people up: retro describes a style, not an age. A retro piece looks like the past. It might be a genuine 1960s lamp, or it might have been made last Tuesday in the style of a 1960s lamp. "Retro" on a label tells you about the aesthetic; it makes no promise about when the thing was made. If age matters to you, ask.

Mid-century (and friends)

Then there are the era names, which are just address labels within "vintage" and "antique": mid-century modern (roughly the 1940s to 60s: clean lines, teak, optimism), Art Deco (1920s to 30s: geometry and glamour), Victorian (mostly antique territory now: ornament upon ornament). These terms carry style expectations as well as dates, which is why a plain 1950s mixing bowl is vintage but nobody calls it mid-century modern.

Why it matters when you're buying

  • Price: "antique" carries a premium, so the word gets stretched. If something is sold as antique, it should credibly be pre-1926 or so. Ask how the seller knows.
  • Care: a 1970s ironstone teapot can live a full working life in your kitchen; a Victorian one would rather be admired. Age changes the job the piece can do.
  • Honesty: "vintage-style" and "retro" mean new. Nothing wrong with new, unless you paid for old.

Where Dear Lois sits

Now that I've given you all the definitions, a confession. I buy with my heart first and the calendar second. Most of what ends up in my shop is genuinely decades old, but the real test a piece has to pass is whether it feels like it belongs to another era: the weight of it, the colour, the sense that it has a story. I'll always tell you everything I know. Each listing is dated as honestly as I can manage, and every item carries a little curator's tag with its era and material. But some purchases are made from the heart, not the era they came from, and I think that's exactly as it should be. If you're ever unsure about a piece, mine or anyone else's, ask. Honest sellers love that question.

Rule of thumb to take with you: 100+ years = antique · 20–99 years = vintage · "retro" = a look, check the age. Now you know more than half the market stalls you'll ever meet.

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