Touching the Past: A Walk Through Nostalgia
Preserving America’s Story

Touching the Past: A Walk Through Nostalgia
- Photo essay by
- Lara Ajami


In the United States, an item becomes an “antique” once it passes a hundred years, but most markets mix those true antiques with vintage pieces. That blend is what keeps every generation interested—and it’s what makes walking inside feel a bit like slipping into another time.

In the center aisle, a man stood studying the items with striking focus. It became clear that visitors here aren’t chasing rarity—they’re looking for something familiar, something that brings back a part of their lives they thought had slipped away.

Old electronics appear in nearly every antiques market. Their value isn’t in scarcity, but in how clearly, they document the shift from early home entertainment to the digital world.

VHS tapes and old recording equipment still matter to collectors. Many visitors look for working players and digitizing tools to save their family recordings before they deteriorate, and many sellers stock exactly what’s needed to keep those memories alive.

Records, CDs, and cassette tapes draw collectors of all ages. With vinyl making a strong comeback, flipping through boxes and searching for music has become part of the experience again.

I asked one seller how long he’d been doing this. “Since the ’80s,” he said. “Some of these things outlast us.” It was clear he saw his work as more than a business—it was a way to safeguard what remains of the past.

Old photo slides offer a direct window into American family life before digital cameras. People buy them to preserve memories or explore moments from decades they never lived through.

Small pieces—gumball machines, tin toys, soda bottles—known as “Americana,” capture everyday life from the mid-20th century. People seek them out because they reflect the culture they grew up with.

At the far end of the market, I saw two people laughing beside a rack of old coats. In that moment, I remembered why I photograph places like this. Antique markets may speak of the past, but they also dust off the memories carried by the people who walk through them—and bring those memories back to life.


In the United States, an item becomes an “antique” once it passes a hundred years, but most markets mix those true antiques with vintage pieces. That blend is what keeps every generation interested—and it’s what makes walking inside feel a bit like slipping into another time.

In the center aisle, a man stood studying the items with striking focus. It became clear that visitors here aren’t chasing rarity—they’re looking for something familiar, something that brings back a part of their lives they thought had slipped away.

Old electronics appear in nearly every antiques market. Their value isn’t in scarcity, but in how clearly, they document the shift from early home entertainment to the digital world.

VHS tapes and old recording equipment still matter to collectors. Many visitors look for working players and digitizing tools to save their family recordings before they deteriorate, and many sellers stock exactly what’s needed to keep those memories alive.

Records, CDs, and cassette tapes draw collectors of all ages. With vinyl making a strong comeback, flipping through boxes and searching for music has become part of the experience again.

I asked one seller how long he’d been doing this. “Since the ’80s,” he said. “Some of these things outlast us.” It was clear he saw his work as more than a business—it was a way to safeguard what remains of the past.

Old photo slides offer a direct window into American family life before digital cameras. People buy them to preserve memories or explore moments from decades they never lived through.

Small pieces—gumball machines, tin toys, soda bottles—known as “Americana,” capture everyday life from the mid-20th century. People seek them out because they reflect the culture they grew up with.

At the far end of the market, I saw two people laughing beside a rack of old coats. In that moment, I remembered why I photograph places like this. Antique markets may speak of the past, but they also dust off the memories carried by the people who walk through them—and bring those memories back to life.




