As I was waiting for my son to finish his art lesson at the gallery this evening, I stopped in at a new thrift shop to benefit the local Hospice and found a pristine (at least on the inside) Lane cedar chest from the 50s. It has the brass-tipped atomic age legs and false drawers with pulls true to the era, like this one. I'll probably use it as a coffee table in the media room.
As I was checking out, one of the volunteers commented that she was happy I was purchasing the hope chest. I nodded and said, "It's a bargain for such a nice piece; they'd call it 'mid-century' and charge a fortune for it in an antique store." One of the mature women behind me in line piped up, "Mid-century, I like that word. From now on, when people ask how old I am, I will tell them I am a mid-century woman!"