On certain Sundays during the month, empty parking lots or warehouses are transformed into fantasy lands overflowing with treasures. And junk. In the early morning hours I love to enter these worlds of wonder and comb through the stands looking for beautiful objects, vintage linens, china services from the twenties, my beloved depression glass and any other object that captures my imagination and heart. It is such fun to discover a fine sterling bud vase mingling with Pez dispensers or musty old books. 

I grew up visiting flea markets with my Mother, and my eccentric, elderly neighbors. I learned the difference between salvageable and a dream that can’t come true. So many times I would drag home some sort of vanity table or spindly legged side table only to be told, ‘It’s junk” ….. all my dreams of elegance for my teen bedroom dashed. Over time and after many mistakes my eye was trained. I can now sail through a market spotting lovelys a mile away. I admit that I have come around to the shiny and new theory when it comes to certain furniture, my love of junk and special things has never left me. My home today is filled with the collections scavenged over time in America’s flea markets, swap meets, and tag sales. Old and new, old fashioned and thoroughly modern.

This entry was posted on Thursday, January 29th, 2009 at 5:16 pm and is filed under Collecting. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.