It is a Friday night and I am spending some quality time with a portrait of George Washington and a ceramic farmer. The antiques mall, as I have come to learn, is a treasure cove for the strangely wonderful.
This one is in the quaint square of old downtown Carrollton, one of the numerous mom-and-pop shops, boutiques and cafes there.
As I stroll through the rooms, it is evident that every piece has been carefully retained in its unique form. Each family photo, old advertisement or teacup set here boasts elaborate designs, all winking at me in their luster.
The nooks and crannies of the store are covered wall to wall with gleaming trinkets. From floral bonnets to old Coca-Cola vending machines, it all feels quite foreign to me. I can’t help but feel out of place with an iPhone in hand.
In the corner, I can hear customers casually talking with the workers about the weather, the store and other small things.
While I’m trying to return a porcelain box to its shelf, my hand slips. Within seconds, the antique is shattered on the floor. Mortified and slightly scared, I feel a wave of fear coming over me.
After my initial shock, I begin to pick up the pieces. The reaction I get from the ladies in the shop is not expected. After seeing the mess I had created, they assure me it is OK, only an accident, and would I like to grab some candy on the way out?
I was surprised to see people who were genuine and caring about their customers. Because it was a square filled with smaller businesses, everyone was able to talk and relate more personally to each other. It was a common sight to see customers conversing with shop owners with ease.
Needless to say, it was definitely not your typical trip to Wal-Mart. A regular night at the grocery store usually consists of a methodical assembly line from cart to checkout. Most of the time, I don’t remember sharing any kind of tender moment with the workers.
It’s the nature of the beast, and I realize that: At bigger retailers there is simply no time to chitchat about your grandson’s upcoming birthday party or how ripe the bananas looked that day. Most of the time, it’s a get-in, get-out type of deal.
Being accustomed to that routine is perhaps what made this small square that much more interesting to me.
Bigger companies have deeper pockets, better traffic and a wider range of tools to advertise their products. But seeing these smaller shops, it was obvious that they still had a winning chance to beat out bigger retailers, simply with their ability to be unique and personal.
As I continued to explore more parts of the square, I saw that these smaller boutiques and cafes gave me an experience that felt more valuable, where employees and owners seemed genuinely interested and devoted to what they were putting out.
I could see that every store had its own color, completely unique. They showed a different side of the city to me, where things aren’t so fast-paced and monotonous. I ended up staying much longer than I intended.
Hopefully, these kinds of places can thrive and grow. Especially for a younger generation of people, it is a different experience rooted in atmosphere, not convenience.
These small businesses in our communities are seedlings of culture and personality, and it would be a real shame to see their unique color fade away.
Amy Roh of Irving is a junior at Coppell High School and a Student Voices volunteer columnist. To respond to this column, send an email to voices@dallasnews.com.
