You know, these shops that are in every small town, probably. In big cities, of course, they also happen, but that's probably not the point. This photo is from a small town, and I experience my town as small, perhaps.
These are the stores where they sell various chandeliers, lamps, lamps, light). And everything that family life seems to be organized around. I write "as if" because this is different for everyone: everyone organizes their family life around different things, for some reason I remember this from childhood. Get chandeliers, lamps, lamps, hang them in every room, arrange everyday life. To the girls' nursery — one, to the hall — another, Tolya, Tolya needs some kind of restrained masculine style.
This is how I imagine my mother reasoning. Hoba, and we have a four-room apartment, no, well, not a hoba, of course, but that's a completely different story. I'm talking about the fact that there was a Khrushchev-arch, one-room apartment for five all this time. I remember at night, or rather for the night, various sofas, folding beds and armchairs were laid out and went to bed. They probably stepped over someone if they had to get up at night. I don't remember anymore. And here there are such mansions, every room needs a chandelier, a lamp, and a lamp. For preparing lessons, again, a tabletop one. How to uh… distribute these two sofas and one table and a folding chair across four rooms…
I have always looked and now look with some aspiration at such stores. Wherever I am, I notice these, but even if you don't notice them, they sparkle, beckoning. (Every time I stand, in the evening, of course, they are more noticeable, as if spellbound) Inviting them to settle down, to create something family around them, some kind of warmth, everyday life, bustle, night preparations for exams, emotional conversations, tired evening bustle, children's expectations from late dates and first parties, lessons, evening glances from under the lamps after moving into an empty new large apartment, where for now there is only a lamp, an ottoman and an echo of furniture throughout the apartment and nothing more than this exciting uncertainty of warmth and happiness.