Nan Durham was known around Marietta for the line of original handbags that bore her name. And the maker of Nan’s Originals was also well known for something she didn’t do: Cooking.
“She was quite proud of the fact that she stored her phone books in her oven,” said Dayle Thompson, a friend of 40 years. “When I first heard that I was very concerned that she might burn down the house, but then I saw there was no risk of that! She had no use for that oven,” she added with a hearty laugh.
Durham didn’t set out to be known as the handbag lady, or the lady who used her oven for storage, her friend said. But she wore both identities comfortably, and without reservation.
“She was a lady ahead of her time, really,” said Thompson. “She loved a good meal, she just wasn’t going to cook it; and she could make a really good handbag.”
Nan Vaughn Durham, a life-long resident of Marietta, died Thursday from complications of a respiratory illness. She was 83.
A private family burial will be held Thursday. A public memorial service is planned for 5 p.m. Thursday at Mayes Ward Dobbins Funeral Home, which is also in charge of arrangements.
A former teacher, and Cobb County social worker and probation officer, Durham was never short on things to do. After retiring from the county in the early-‘90s Nan’s Originals “became more of a business than she expected,” Thompson said. While she was still working, Durham made and sold her handbags on the side, but after retirement, the venture practically became her second career.
Durham, who earned a degree in art education from Florida State University in 1950, also made jewelry her friends and family said.
“Just like the handbags, the jewelry was one-of-a-kind,” Thompson said. “There were no knock-offs of Nan’s Originals.”
On at least one occasion Durham used her jewelry as a fundraiser for a local family, Thompson said.
“Any time she saw a need, she would volunteer to try and make it better,” her friend said. “She didn’t want any credit, or recognition, she just wanted to see a good resolution to a problem.”
Durham never wanted to see harm or misfortune befall anyone, but especially those she counted among her nearest and dearest.
“She was fiercely protective of the ones she loved, like a lioness,” said her daughter, Mindy Durham Freeman, of Milton. “Especially her grandsons; if she perceived you were hurting someone she loved, she went in to what we call Nannonator mode,” she said with a laugh.
There would be a tell-tale gleam in Durham’s eyes, before the unsuspecting perpetrator of bad tidings was put in check, her daughter said.
“And when you saw it in her eyes, all you could say was, ‘You’re about to be Nannonated!’ and when it was all over, you just didn’t even see it coming,” she said, still laughing. “And then she’d go back to being her sweet self, just that fast.”
In addition to her daughter, Durham is survived by three grandsons.
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