I’ve never been all that into antiquing or thrifting. It always felt like it took a lot of time to find something that might not be quite exactly what you wanted in the first place.

Thanks to Internet searches that allow me to search for a “rectangular mirror with light oak finish” with the exact measurements I need, it seemed like an even less likely hobby for me to take up.

However, as I’ve finally made progress on some more home renovation projects, I’ve realized that at the end of the day, I am trying to style a house that has been worked on and added to by dozens of people over the course of 150 years, and sometimes I just can’t find “new” stuff that fits the vibe.

Of course, I can still search the Internet for something that I think would go, but buying old stuff on the Internet is usually a little more difficult. Not everyone is a professional photographer or uses a measuring tape perfectly, and sometimes you just need to see something to know if it’s going to work.

In particular, I have been searching for a odd-shaped end table that has some storage space to use in our guest bedroom/spare room/library/home office room. Clearly it has to be a versatile piece, but it also needs to be a slightly peculiar toffee shade to match flooring that my dad had purchased years ago. I did order a few things on the Internet, and none of them turned out to be the right fit.

So, I’ve been perusing some of the local antique markets and thrift stores, on the hunt. I remember reading an odd fact about an actor years ago, that he had a phobia of old furniture. For some reason, that sticks in my brain whenever I go into antique stores. I don’t so much have a phobia as I have an overactive imagination.

I don’t find it sad or upsetting, but I do get a little overwhelmed sometimes at the idea that pieces of furniture and other whatnot were once new and shiny and the pride of someone’s life.

I can’t walk past old dining room tables without imagining the families that sat down to Christmas dinners or Sunday morning breakfasts together. I imagine a new bride, filling her kitchen hutch with her wedding china, which is now painstakingly taped together, with the number of pieces on the price tag.

I find it comforting, I guess that’s the best word, to know that these things can continue to be useful long after their original owners are gone. My environmentally conscious daughter wholeheartedly supports thrifting anything that she can.

Of course, my Google searches have also fed the social media algorithm, and my feed is now full of thrifty and vintage stylists. I do have to say, they manage to upcycle old things in ways I never would have imagined. One trend that caught my eye was a thrifter who used antique handkerchiefs and doilies to tie on her purse strap as a little extra flair.

For some reason, I found this idea quaint and vowed to keep an eye out for some old linen on my next trip. As luck would have it, I found a pretty little handkerchief with little brown flowers on it that matched my tote bag perfectly. I even got a compliment from E, who approved of my upcycling and my style choice. So, I was encouraged to keep an eye out for more pieces.

A few weeks later, I stumbled across an entire box of old linen pieces. There were a few simple handkerchiefs that were trimmed around the edges with a few simple crocheted stitches.

Immediately, my imagination went to work, imagining young women who didn’t have much to elevate their wardrobes, adding a little bit of simple lace to make their things just a little prettier.

And then, I found a handkerchief that was perfectly stained with a red pair of lips. I could just see it, a young woman, excited for some event, getting herself all dolled up, and as the final touch, blotting her lips, then shoving her hankie into her bag, where it was simply forgotten as she dashed off for an evening of adventure and romance.

Of course, there are a hundred other possibilities, and a dozen more handkerchiefs in the same box that probably have their own stories.

At any rate, I still haven’t found the table that I’m looking for, but I don’t think I’m going to mind continuing to hunt for it. Who knows what other stories I’ll come across.

Liz Pinkey’s column appears on Saturdays in the Times News