Kintsugi and the Beauty of Broken Things: Three Pieces We Couldn't Leave Behind

If you've ever picked up a beautiful old piece at a boot sale, turned it over, found a chip — and put it straight back down — this one's for you. Because after fifteen years of sourcing antiques, I've started doing something I never used to do: bringing broken things home on purpose.

In this week's video, I share three recently found pieces — all damaged, all lovely — and the Japanese philosophy that changed how I think about every crack, chip and missing handle I come across.

If you've ever picked up a beautiful old piece at a boot sale, turned it over, found a chip — and put it straight back down — this one's for you. Because after fifteen years of sourcing antiques, I've started doing something I never used to do: bringing broken things home on purpose.

In this week's video, I share three recently found pieces — all damaged, all lovely — and the Japanese philosophy that changed how I think about every crack, chip and missing handle I come across.

‍What is Kintsugi?

‍Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken ceramics and pottery with gold. Rather than hiding the damage, the break is filled with gold so it becomes visible, beautiful, and celebrated — a permanent part of the object's history rather than a flaw to disguise.

‍Behind it sits a wider Japanese philosophy called wabi sabi: the idea that nothing is ever truly perfect, and that imperfection itself is something worth celebrating. Once you start looking at old objects through that lens, a crack stops being a reason to walk away. Sometimes, it becomes the most interesting thing about the piece.

Should you buy broken antiques?

‍ Honestly? Usually no — and in the video I explain why broken items are normally an instant pass for us when we're out sourcing. There are two big reasons:

Value. A chip, a crack or a missing piece almost always knocks the value of an antique significantly. If you're buying to resell, damage is a problem.

Shipping risk. An already-damaged piece is far more likely to break further in transit. Nobody wants their new treasure arriving in pieces.

‍But here's the thing that's shifted for me over the years: when antique dealers can't sell damaged pieces, those pieces don't get rescued. They get smashed up and taken to the tip. Beautiful, handmade, sometimes century-old things — gone forever. And I just can't stand it. So now, when I pick up a broken piece, I take a moment and ask: could this have another life?

‍Three broken pieces — and what happened to them

I won't give away everything (the full stories, close-ups and one very honest confession are in the video), but here's a taste of the three pieces I talk through:

A little handmade pottery bird. He wasn't broken when I found him — that part is entirely my fault, and involves the back of the van. His neck now carries a visible repair, and I've kept him anyway, because he still brings me exactly the same joy he did the day I spotted him.

A hundred-year-old Chinese cup. Hand-painted bone china, over a century old, missing its handle — and it cost me 50p. It can't be a mug anymore, but it's about to start a whole new life on my desk. In the video I talk about how losing an object's original function doesn't have to mean losing the object.

A Chinese pottery horse. Handmade, hand-painted, and missing an entire leg. This one is heading into the shop — and in the video I explain why a break that dramatic can still be worth buying, and how display angle changes everything.

How do you know when a broken piece is worth keeping?

For me it comes down to gut instinct, and three honest questions:

  1. Does it still bring you joy? If an object makes you happy every time you look at it, the break you know about matters far less than you'd think.

  2. Can it have a new purpose? A handleless cup becomes a brush pot, a pen pot, a home for a little plant. Think slightly outside the box and function comes back.

  3. Is the history worth more than the perfection? A hand-painted, hundred-year-old object with a flaw is still a hand-painted, hundred-year-old object.

‍ ‍Not everything broken is worth keeping — and I say that clearly in the video too. But some things absolutely are. To be able to celebrate something that is broken is, I think, rather a lovely philosophy to carry through life in general — not just through your collection of pottery and ceramics.

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Boot Sale Vintage Haul — Come With Us to Hunt for Treasure