Local Woman Powerless Against Stores With “Ye Olde” in the Name, Spends $86 on Jams She’ll Never Eat
By Nina J.
Witless Wire Staff
MARION, VT — Local resident Carolyn Tipton, 42, admitted Thursday that she cannot walk past any establishment with “Ye Olde” in the name without immediately veering off-course, entering the premises, and spending at least $30 on things she does not need but that “feel artisanal.”
The confession came moments after she was spotted emerging from Ye Olde Spool & Spindle, a shop specializing in antique sewing machines, hand-carved thread holders, and unopened tins of 1940s German needles. The air inside smelled faintly of cedar and generational disappointment.
“It’s not just old. It’s olde. With an e,” she whispered reverently while clutching a jar of gooseberry marmalade and a hand-carved butter spatula. “That’s how you know it’s authentic.”
“I don’t know what it is,” she continued, loading her car with beeswax candles, two lace doilies, and a burlap pouch labeled ‘Herbal Throat Soothe’. “Something about that extra e at the end of ‘old’ just speaks to me. It’s not modern. It’s not efficient. It’s charming. It’s slower—like a time when people churned butter, feared God, and died of gout.”
This marks Tipton’s third stop this week at a “Ye Olde” business, following visits to Ye Olde Jelly Barn (which turned out to be just Smuckers in Mason jars) and Ye Olde Wrought Iron Emporium, where she briefly considered purchasing an iron boot scraper despite having lived in a condo for nine years.
“Even if I don’t buy anything, I must go inside. It feels disrespectful not to. Like I’m snubbing my ancestors,” she added, staring wistfully at a bundle of decorative corn husks tied with twine.
Tipton’s family has learned to accommodate the detours.
“We try not to drive through New England anymore,” said her husband, Rick. “Last fall she made us stop at Ye Olde Button Cellar. It was just a root cellar filled with buttons. No bathrooms. No exits. We were in there for two hours.”
According to Carolyn, the spelling is key. “If it’s just ‘Old Lamp Shop’ or ‘Old Furniture Barn,’ I’m out. Too modern. But Ye Olde Lamppe Postte & Candle Haus? That place is getting all my money and possibly my soul.”
Witless Wire reporters followed Tipton for a full afternoon and confirmed the pattern. After bypassing a sleek outlet mall and a modern gourmet store, she stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing Ye Olde Pickle Works & Twine Mercantile.
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “They have a weathered sign. There’s hay out front. I think that woman is wearing a bonnet.”
The total haul: two jars of pickled asparagus, a lavender drawer sachet, a decorative ladle, and something labeled “spiced salt for winter soups.” She does not cook.
“Does it make sense? No. Do I feel fulfilled on a spiritual level? Absolutely,” she said.
At press time, Carolyn was seen U-turning across three lanes of traffic after glimpsing a handwritten placard reading Ye Olde Apothecary & Folk Remedies.
