I can’t find a word for “fear of antiques,” but I know one must be out there. After years of being told not to sit on a chair, step on a rug, or drink from a cup because the valuable in question was an object of a certain age, I have no doubt that antiques have inspired their own unique phobia.

It’s a relief, then, to discover that antiques aren’t quite what they used to be. Purists still demand that an object be a century old before it can be properly called an antique, but such formality is on the wane among decorators and dealers. “Things that are 50 years or older are now treated as antiques,” says Kevin Austin, co-owner of the Toronto vintage furnishings shop At Home. “People are buying these pieces because they like them, not because they want a collector’s item. They intend to use what they buy, not cordon it off.”

The definition of antiques has broadened to include “found objects,” which are fragments of genuine antiques. Considered junk by the purists, objects like clockfaces or sections of wrought-iron grilles are now scooped up by savvy decorators. “The old rules have fallen by the wayside,” says Austin. “The popular look now is playful and eclectic. People might have an old pine table paired up with funky 1950s chairs.”

In fact, in many cases, the more timeworn a piece is, the better: sturdy, comfortable furnishings can stand the onslaught of kids and dogs, making this careworn style a favourite with young families. Frequently called shabby chic, this irreverent attitude toward one’s living space owes much to English country-house style. Not a conscious trend so much as an evolutionary process, country-house style employs furniture, fabrics, and decorative objects that have been passed down over generations. The effect is winsomely casual – the paint may be peeling, but if it was good enough for the earl, it’s good enough for us, is the message it sends.

Today, the trend is toward decorating with pieces that look pre-loved. The scratches that mark a wood table are a testament to its history and longevity – indeed, even the roughest looking old pieces were constructed with durability in mind, making them sturdier than a spanking new particleboard confection. And contributing to its popularity is shabby chic’s affordability: the main investment it requires is finding the time to hunt down such careworn treasures.

California-based decorator Rachel Ashwell captures the heart of this trend in her book Shabby Chic, a paean to worn wood, wrought iron, and baroque decorative elements. Ashwell, who was born and raised in England, spurns museum-piece antique shops in favour of open-air flea markets, where she snaps up everything from chandeliers to vintage buttons. Key to the shabby chic ethic is the ability to look for each object’s potential, rather than being put off by peeling paint or rust spots. It often necessitates creative thinking. For example, Ashwell demonstrates that metal covers for old street lights prove to be perfect bowls for fruit or bread. Who knew?

Ashwell goes beyond simply showing how objects with a past fit into a modern home; she also revives the widespread use of fabrics (a favourite decorative medium of the Victorians, among others). Sun-faded prints get new life as pillows, curtains, and table linens. In keeping with shabby chic style, old pieces are used in new ways – that tapestry curtain could become a wall hanging, and the lace valence could become a tablecloth. Think of it as the Scarlett O’Hara approach: you need a dress, you spy green velvet curtains, next you’re off to town in a frock of emerald velvet. That’s the heart of shabby chic.

Junk Style by Melanie Molesworth exemplifies this strategy. Molesworth’s style is a little less gentrified than Ashwell’s, but the philosophy is consistent. She lives by the adage that one person’s trash is another person’s treasure. In fact, what’s relegated to the junk heap is frequently recyclable – with minimal restoration required. And those same well-loved objects gleaned from thrift shops and attics will warm up a room in a way that mass-produced modern merchandise can’t.

Molesworth makes a strong case for bringing outdoor-designed metal furniture and decorations into the home. As with the shabby chic ethic, the point is not to make everything match or to create period rooms. Instead, these worn antiques add individuality and charm to everyday spaces.

An essential addition to the canon for anyone who wants to master the art of shabby chic is Flea Market Style by Emelie Tolley and Chris Mead. While Ashwell and Molesworth do masterful jobs of demonstrating how to make antiques and found objects fit into a modern setting, Tolley and Mead lead readers through the process of finding these oft-overlooked treasures in the first place. This helps to explain why the shabby chic trend has caught on and expanded so quickly: the thrill of the chase. Tolley and Mead wax poetic about the pleasures of the markets on Portobello Road in London and of the Marché aux Puces in Paris. This is shabby chic at its most romantic.

Flea Market Style displays some of the most whimsical pieces anywhere, and it shows what decorators and dealers mean when they talk about shabby chic being playful. Finds include a folding table edged with wooden clothespins, and a two-tiered stand constructed almost entirely out of spools. Tolley and Mead also consider the joys of developing a collection, be it of toy horses, vintage radios, or barbershop memorabilia. (Having already fallen prey to the joys of collecting vintage cocktail shakers, I can personally vouch for this. Why do I do it? I don’t know. But it is indeed fun.)

An extremely glamourized version of shabby chic can be found in Irreplaceable Artifacts: Decorating the Home with Architectural Ornament by Evan Blum and Leslie Blum. Many of the rooms pictured within its covers could easily find their way into Architectural Digest – at first glance. Upon closer inspection it’s clear that these stunning set pieces have been assembled out of – you guessed it – junk. Actually, some of the objects are so stunning that it’s hard to believe that they were rescued from salvage yards. Most of the pieces on display here have come from dismantled buildings or houses, and so they are made to perform on a grand scale. But the carved columns, gargoyles, and chimney pots have been recycled to fit into houses and apartments.

Irreplaceable Artifacts is particularly interesting in that it reveals how far the shabby chic ethic has evolved. While its origins are tied into clever strategies for decorating on the cheap, shabby chic has gained so much momentum that it is now a favourite with people who could afford museum pieces. It’s a style that captures the zeitgeist perfectly: we want living spaces that are comfortable – and at the same time, we want to dazzle with our inventiveness and our luck at finding, and holding on to, precious pieces of the past.