“Older is Cooler”
After a quick introduction and chat, it’s clear that owner Gwen Strachan is a perfect fit for Out of the Blue, an antiques and estate liquidation business she owns in downtown Livingston.

With a background in fine art, fashion design, and banking, Gwen has a passion for both the beauty and sustainability of old objects. One of Gwen’s passions is in her personal commitment to recycle and reuse old, quality-made things. She is proud of the shop and proud of the shop’s focus on sustainability, which was recognized by a Green Business Award from Park High School. 

Gwen became the owner of Out of the Blue in 2022. The shop is a welcoming and busy place, full of stock she’s gathered. The exceptional merchandise displays are by creative director Sarah Homans. 

Gwen and Sarah change out the entire shop four times a year and it shows—no stale displays here! The shop has a consistent, hip aesthetic, carrying better-quality, well-designed items from the 1880s through the 1990s. Customers range from dedicated collectors to out of town visitors, and include locals looking for inspiration for their homes. 

The shop’s location at 211 South Main in downtown Livingston should be familiar to longtime Montana collectors. It has hosted a number of antique stores, including Grandma’s Attic, owned by Betty Laren for at least 15 years, and later owned by K Borneman, who transformed the shop into a ‘fun and funky’ place. 

It will be exciting to see what Gwen Strachan, along with Sarah Homans continues to do with Out of the Blue, one of Montana’s most creative and fun antiques & vintage shops. 

“It’s About Time”

After 3 decades of running Last Wind-Up in downtown Bozeman, master horologist Dave Berghold right-sized his business in late 2023 to focus on the aspects he most enjoys: working on timepieces—particularly watches—and customer service.

Last Wind-Up is now located upstairs in the same building, 11 East Main, where it was located for the past 13 years. Today, Dave is focused on making parts, repairing watches and clocks, and designing as well as producing his own brand of watches.

Dave has contacts across the US and the world from his 30+ years in the trade, whom he calls on to help with his customers’ requests. That includes finding pieces for customers searching for very specific items, and connecting customers who want to sell a valuable or historic timepiece to an appropriate auction or sales venue. 

Trained horologists are becoming scarce across the US. In Montana, as the number of trained horologists shrinks, Dave is receiving more repairs from jewelry stores, whereas in the old days, those stores would have had a trained repair person on staff. 

How did he get into the craft? Horology incorporates mechanics, art, and history, all fields that spoke to Dave. From his first exposure in high school, when he peered into an open watch and saw a whole world inside, he was hooked.

Customers have brought into Last Wind-Up some pretty valuable and historically important timepieces, which are always a treat to see in person. The pieces are often family items, such as railroad watches, that the descendants are looking for more information about, and Dave is happy to share his knowledge. 

It’s not all vintage or antique timepieces at Last Wind-Up. Dave has developed his own brand, “DB Watches,” that are designed and produced in Montana. He’s excited about some new innovative models coming out soon. If you’re interested in seeing time as more than just a concept, check out Last Wind-Up on your next trip to Bozeman.

Enjoy the hunt. 

Collect what you love. 

Live with your antiques and care for them—
and let them go. 

THE ANTIQUES WE LEAVE

By Shelly Turk, Billings, MT

“My children don’t want my antiques.” I hear this statement from elderly customers almost daily. Many have to sell in order to downsize or please their families. I get it. My mother collected glassware. She changed out her displays with the seasons, she lovingly washed and cleaned it all twice a year, and she took such pleasure in the hunt for a new piece. I didn’t want it, and my small house didn’t have the space to keep it all. It broke her heart. 

I doubt that my daughter will want much of what I’ve had so much fun collecting. She won’t want the Shakespeare books I hauled home from Stratford or the linen from France or the tea set from London. She is a minimalist, and I am not. Who cares? I raised her to be independent and tried my best to let go and enjoy watching her develop her own style and passions. Hopefully she will find new homes for my treasures with someone who will love and enjoy them. 

What is hard, however, is imagining her not wanting the pieces that have family stories attached. And perhaps that’s the heart of it. Our fear that we will be forgotten—our stories will be lost. Will she care that the pink bowl is the only thing I have that belonged to my paternal grandmother—that she brought it from Prussia on a boat, alone, leaving her family to escape persecution? Will she want my grandfather’s or father’s Bibles that were read until the pages were thin and soft? Will she appreciate the wedding quilt that my great-grandmother and her friends pieced together by hand and sewed their names into? Will she wear the plaid ruana that I purchased in Scotland and remember that it was my favorite article of clothing?

My mother didn’t know that, while I didn’t keep many of her dishes, I did keep her senior yearbook that showed her as the drum majorette that year. I have her wedding ring, and I wear her vintage coat from the fifties with pleasure. I won’t part with the pictures she painted or the little bulldog that sat on her desk throughout my childhood. Those things have memories—they matter to me. They are my mother so much more than her set of china which we rarely used. 

So stop worrying about what your children will throw out or keep. Enjoy the hunt. Collect what you love. Live with your antiques and care for them—and let them go. Leave an inventory with values if it makes you feel better. Jot names and dates on sticky notes and put them on the back of things if you must. More importantly, tell your children stories about your family and let them know you—and they will keep what matters. They will keep what shaped your story, and consequently, theirs. Because, after all, people are what’s important—not things. Make sure they miss you—not your stuff.