iRelle

Today I took Lisa to Latrobe to visit Reliquaire. It’s a gross understatement to call it a shop, but you could say that’s what it is. It sells things. However, there’s a much better definition hidden in the rather obscure (and somewhat unpronounceable) name. Reliquaire is the French word that our ‘Reliquary’ comes from. It describes a place to put relics… “a receptacle for relics”.  A relic is a memory, something that reminds us of things past.

Reliquaire is filled with things from the past – not necessarily antiques, but timeless things. It is a place of memories and laughter, a place of fantasy and imagination, filled with fairytales and perfect moments. It’s full of hidden surprises, buried treasures and tiny delights that a cursory glance can never see. When you walk through the doors you have to suspend disbelief. You have to believe in fairyland, enchantments and magic, and walk through the maze of rooms as if everything was put there especially for you to find – and you will never find everything in a single visit.

There are human-sized rabbits and cats in Victorian gowns reclining on couches, Jesters, Fairies, Witches, life-sized pompadour’d women, and a plethora of colours, glittering objects and intriguing smells that trickle from one room to the next, filling each room to overflowing, making every scene a 3D eye spy picture. A crazy-eyed ceramic mouse sits next to a stand of thought-provoking notebooks. A fully decked-out miniature sailing ship sits beside a life-size witch, hovering somewhere near the ceiling.

By far my favourite things at Reliquaire are the Venetian masks. There are five or six walls covered in gilded, feathered, satinned and painted splendour – from tiny masterpieces of pastel pink to metre-tall creations of feathers and colour. I don’t know what it is that draws me to masks… the idea of hiding, of being someone else? Or is it the coquettish extravagace conjured up by the image of a masked ball in venice?  I’m not sure, but I could happily  spend hours exploring the different styles, the different atmospheres each one presents, the different personalities. I would love to start my own collection.

At the end of the store (if you follow the map) you’ll find a more scientific spin on the world, ending up with a trip in the TARDIS (complete with the Dr. Who theme music) before you savour a final taste of opulence in the last room – which takes the sting out of paying the price for all the things you simply couldn’t leave behind.

The staff of Reliquaire are masters of customer service. From the moment you step in the door to be greeted by a be-costumed smile bearing a tray of fudge to the moment you take your lingering departure, they nurture the atmosphere of fantasy, unobtrusively flitting around and keeping everything running smoothly, without a hint of consumerism.

The Reliquaire experience is something everyone who comes to Tasmania should experience at least once – and once you’ve tried it, you will look for any excuse to go back!