Skip to main content

Where Old Things Go To...

be bought, maybe?

The other day, Eustacia said whadayasay we go to the antique mall? We've got a huge one here that Husband estimated must be 40,000 square feet or some such. It used to be something like a K-Mart before whatever it was went out of business, and someone had the bright idea of turning the space into a central place for dealers to sell their wares.

These aren't all antiques by the official definition. Some of it is cool vintage like ladies' hats or a metal dollhouse just like the one I had when I was eight, and some is flea market stuff like a collection of Star Wars juice glasses and Johnnie Mathis albums, and some of it is just old like the chipped dishes that no one wanted to throw away but should have. Regardless, it's all fun to see.

The store is set up in aisles labeled as streets, and you start on First Street and walk down, and then walk up Second and back down Third and so on. If you look at everything, you'll be in there all day.

Eustacia was looking for old National Geographics, which she found. Someone was selling bound editions from the 1920s (actually bound in the 20s so that the leather was cracking and the pages were yellowed). She bought one edition with July through December from 1925.

I wasn't looking for anything in particular because I have put my china tea cup collection out of sight for now and shouldn't add to it, but I still found interesting things. I am amazed at 1) what people make 2) what people keep 3) what people find to sell 4) what people spend money on.

Here are some treasures from our local antique mall.

A framed black cat.

Chickens—I'm considering buying the gold ones.

A Styrofoam model of something from
Easter Island—must be six feet high.

Among glassware, the kind of hair dryer
my mother used when I was a kid.

I really just don't know.

A Peggy Lee doll.

A huge wooden Punch.
Even the black cat is scared.

Comments

dive said…
Yay for creepy, kitsch heaven! What a fabulous place to browse and buy weirdness, Robyn. I wish we had something like that around here.

Popular posts from this blog

Long Live Anita Bowser

You know I occasionally check my hometown newspaper's website to scan the obituaries (morbid, I know, but I'm at that age). Over this past weekend, I read the obituary of Indiana State Senator Anita Bowser . She was a noted Democrat who championed causes protecting the neediest in the state's population. She was respected on both sides of the aisle for her intelligence and plain and outspoken approach to law making. The picture on her senate page is lovely. I remember none of those things about Anita Bowser . My first year or so in college was spent at a branch of Purdue University, and in the early 80s, Anita was a political science professor. She taught my American Government class my freshman year, and she was a mess. Somewhere in my old text book, I have a sketch of her drawn on a particularly dull day in class--her hose sagged at her ankles, her slip showed at least half an inch all the way around, her hair had been slept on but not brushed, and her bright red lip stic...

My Sitemeter is All Bloated and Not Quite Itself

I'm tempted to let it sit on the couch with its feet curled up under a blanket, a hot cup of coffee in hand, a block of cherry almond bark Chocolove within reach, and An Affair to Remember spinning in the DVD player. I'm one of those obsessive bloggers, the kind who checks her sitemeter as often as possible throughout the day, the kind who gauges the quality of her writing by the number of readers who regularly stop by. I've become less interested in the overall number of hits and more interested in the number of repeat hits. The return visitors are the ones I long for. When my sitemeter reads forty at the end of the day, and the majority of those hits are webpals who have conversed, I'm happy. Forty may seem low to many of you, but I've only been at this since August. To me, forty is a jackpot. A few days ago, I sat down at my laptop and discovered a number somewhere in the eighties. Eighties! Yippee! Yeeha ! Hoo-rah ! I've been discovered by the webworld , o...

Happy Birthday...

to me! Update: Since you have asked, I only got one actual packaged gift, a beautiful hand-made bracelet from a friend, but both girls were home for the weekend, and we had dinner at the lake and a relaxing weekend. Thanks to all of you for your lovely wishes!