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What is this…? I found it in my grandmother’s closet

While rummaging through an old box at the back of a cupboard, I stumbled upon some curious objects. Thin, colorful, a little shiny… At first glance, I thought they might be vintage cocktail sticks or leftover Christmas lights—one of those “just in case” items that end up forgotten.

But when I held them in my hand, I noticed something unusual. They were made of glass, delicate, almost poetic. Orange, yellow, green… and each with a tiny, discreet hook. What on earth could they have been used for?

A Family Secret Unveiled

Puzzled, I asked my grandfather’s brother. He burst out laughing and, with a twinkle in his eye, revealed their secret: “Those are little vases for suit pockets. For buttonholes.”

Miniature vases? For suits? I could hardly believe it. Yet suddenly, everything clicked. These slender glass tubes would slip into a jacket’s breast pocket, holding just enough water to keep a flower fresh throughout an evening. Such a subtle detail—yet one of great refinement.

When Flowers Spoke Louder Than Words

Back then, these tiny vases weren’t mere ornaments. They were symbols, part of a delicate language of flowers. A white carnation for a wedding. A red rose for a romantic evening. A rare orchid for the theater. Each bloom carried a message, a silent declaration.

And the vase? It wasn’t just practical. It showed care. It elevated the gesture, turning a simple flower into an art form.

A Lost Art of Style

Today, fashion often leans toward convenience—jeans, a T-shirt, and out the door. But these little vases remind me that true elegance has always been about the details, even the ones others might not notice. A flower kept alive in the pocket of a suit wasn’t just about appearance. It was about soul.

These fragile objects may no longer be used, but their spirit lingers. They whisper of a time when refinement meant thoughtfulness, and beauty was woven into the simplest gestures.

A Touch of Poetry for Today

Now, these glass vases rest on my shelf like tiny treasures. Sometimes, I catch myself wondering: what if we reintroduced a little of that poetry into our lives?

It doesn’t have to be grand. A flower tucked into the hair. One placed quietly on a table. Another offered with no reason at all. Small gestures that cost nothing, yet bring sweetness.

Perhaps it’s time to reclaim that forgotten art—when every detail was an act of care, and everyday life shimmered with quiet beauty.

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