Antique-aholics Anonymous

There’s something so exhilarating in rummaging through a pile of what my parents would call “junk,” and coming out with a treasure… and at a bargain, to match!  Sometimes I think I literally have an addiction to shopping in flea markets and thrift stores - I just KNOW when I’m going to find something (it’s like a sixth sense), my heart starts beating faster, and when I finally pull out the treasure, I get a surge of adrenaline that rushes through my body - it’s a serious high.  

Unfortunately, now, the deals are not as good as they were 15 years ago (before vintage and recycled clothing became a huge trend), and a lot of the merchandise has been picked over.  It’s still fun for me, though, and I never miss the opportunity to go to a flea market.  Lucky me - this weekend I got finally got to go to what has been called the best flea market in the US - Brimfield.

There were a lot of amazing items - I found some wonderful Victorian jet beaded trims:

a cut steel clasp:

cheap yet inspirational costume jewelry:

a pair of 1930s lace-up shoes:

a Vogue magazine from 1954:

I also found some vintage clothes (a 1940s sun dress, a 1960s Audrey Hepburn-like black linen shift, a green velour top from the 50s, and a silver lame belt from the 1920s) and two really amazing hats (one Victorian with a dramatic feather, the other a cute 1930s number).  I didn’t find the vintage mannequin bust I was searching for, but those are pretty hard to come by, so I’m not too upset about it.  

Overall, it was a good trip, and I’m glad I went.  It wasn’t nearly as scary as some of the flea markets I’ve been to in the South.  For example, I went to one in Virginia with my family, and my sister and dad got separated from my mother and me.  My sister sent me a text saying, “Where are you? We are near the guns, mullets, and confederate flags - come find us.” Surprisingly (or maybe not), that didn’t narrow down her location at all…