Stories have been with us from the beginning of time, and for good reason. They add substance to the challenges of everyday life, enthrall us with the range of human experience, and add texture to the objects that fill our days. So what happens in this brave new world of Web 2.0 — where the economy of a place called Second Life outpaces that of many small European nations? Is there any value to provenance, to craft, to the individual design?

The Internet has created a vast shopping emporium, allowing consumers endless selection and an incredible variety of price points. As digital commerce and communication continue to flourish and the simple commerce of vendor and buyer becomes reduced to bits on a chip, a vacuum has been created. Real touch, real time is becoming scarce — and we all know scarcity begets desire. The critical motivation for choice of non-commodity items is now one of relationship. Those vendors who can imbue their products with story and feed the hunger in the coming generations for history and connection will thrive.

Dan Pink, author of A Whole New Mind, believes that the future belongs to those who can tell a story through their art, their work and their lives. He says: The era of "left brain" dominance, and the Information Age that it engendered, are giving way to a new world in which "right brain" qualities — inventiveness, empathy, and meaning — predominate. The challenge lies in revealing the inspiration and passion that leads us to create meaningful art and design and then translating that into relevance for the consumer.

This new equation already exists within the halls of the online shopping bazaar, Esty. This very for-profit consortium bills itself as “your place to buy and sell all things handmade.” Esty does not fulfill orders from an inventory. Rather, it’s a place where sellers set up virtual storefronts, giving the site a cut of sales. Unlike Ebay, which many liken to an unending garage sale, Esty is more of an online craft fair, where artisans can sell those things that they have made by hand. An astonishing 70,000 vendors use the site to showcase jewelry, art, clothes and more to an eager audience. And it is not just wares that these vendors are selling; they also have a profile page to share with the buyer, often providing a link to a blog or a MySpace page, so that the perspective buyer can connect with their stories and their lives, as well as the object at hand. The vibrancy of the site and success it has achieved speak to the consumer’s desire for connection with the creator of the things they buy as well as the hope of returning a dimension of humanity to their lives with the purchase of a handcrafted item.

This lust for the authentic and the storied is flourishing in a number of businesses. Vintage has taken over the red carpets of Hollywood as actresses seek to create a richer backstory for themselves via the tales and titillations of a refurbished gown from a more glamorous time.

Two new locations on the Lower East Side help fill this craving for story and connection. For clothing designers, opening a store of their own can be prohibitively expensive, and finding a large-scale retailer to stock their work is no easy task, either. So design co-ops Hillary Flowers and The Dressing Room are a welcome alternative. These two new fashion collectives, part of a larger and growing trend, provide both a sustainable retail model and an enjoyable shopping experience. The racks are filled with work from a carefully curated roster of designers, and their stock is always interesting, unique and unpredictable. Like most types of co-op, fashion collectives require their designers to work every so often at the store, so when a customer stops in to shop they might very well run into the actual person who designed the shirt they are trying on. The opportunity to hear the designer’s story behind the pieces sold is extremely attractive to today’s disconnected consumer.

The desire for story also extends itself into the world of home design. As an article in March’s Sunday New York Times recently reported, reclaimed wood has become a huge industry. In California the vintage oak barrels used to age the region's celebrated vintages are finding a new life. Recognizing their value as high-grade raw materials, lumber reclamation companies have begun to seek out, dismantle, dry and remill old barrels, casks, tanks and vats for reuse as one-of-a-kind flooring, decking, architectural moldings and any number of wine-cellar accoutrements. "The tight grain of the wood, the patina created during the aging process, and the cooper stamps on the boards have all left a legend revealing where this wood has been," says Rick Merwin, president of Fontenay, a wood-reclamation company based in the Napa Valley region. It's the sort of history that appeals not only to wine connoisseurs but to everyone who appreciates the kind of character that can only come with age. One company head commented on this trend:

“The wood is beautiful, but it is the story that makes this desk truly spectacular.” Now, back to that bottle of wine…Two Brothers Winery, a partnership between brothers Erik and Alex Bartholomaus, released their debut wine, Big Tattoo Red 2001, in autumn of 2002 as a way to raise funds for cancer research and Hospice care in memory of their mother, Liliana S. Bartholomaus. Alex Bartholomaus, President and CEO of Billington Wines in Springfield, VA created this unique blend in Chile. Alex then teamed up with his brother Erik, an established world-traveling tattoo artist, to design a fun label that would remind the two of their mother. Erik designed the label and they named their creation Big Tattoo Red. Fifty cents from every bottle sold was donated to the Hospice of Arlington, VA, and other breast cancer research foundations in the name of Liliana S. Bartholomaus. The two sold 13,835 cases of the 2001 debut vintage and raised $83,010 to donate to Cancer research and support. When asked, the specialty wine sellers who carry the brand say the success of the wine is simple: it has a story.