I also definitely needed Gatorade, not only for energy, but because it was a glorious 70+ degrees here in NOVA this weekend.
A few weeks ago, a shopowner, who I love, was talking to me about a flea market that she'd been going to. She'd mentioned it before, but never *specifically* named it. I couldn't tell if she was being cagey about not revealing her source, or assumed I already knew about it. This time, she dropped the name, and I was determined to go. It's about 1.5 hours away, but with such a beautiful drive, who cares? And, I remembered that another vendor friend used to sell there.
Well, this is a TRUE flea market, with more DVDs, tube socks, fenced electronics, Matchbox cars, and yard sale crap than vintage stuff, but the vintage stuff was by and large cheap. Unfortunately, very little vintage furnitute.
At my very first vendor, I scored a trifecta of vintage horse-race photos (what's up with the HORSES lately with me?)*, as well as a sweet Wildflowers of Whittier book with great graphics. I then quickly segued to a table of $1 items, scoring some really awesome 100+-year-old bibles and religious items. I've been looking for champagne buckets, as I sold them ALL last holiday season, and dead violins and typewriters, which I can't keep in stock. I wasn't gonna buy this typewriter (and was only skeptically eyeballing it, since it was newer than I prefer) when the dealer told me it was mine for $5. Hell, I can sell it as a doorstop at that price!
Heading home, I found a teensy tiny antique shop and scored the keys and photos for a ridiculously low price. When they noticed that I bought ALL the photos, they told me to call before I come next time, and they'll bring in more for me. YAY!
Although I only bought smalls this weekend, it's what's paying the rent and keeping the booth vibrant. I'm dreading decorating the booth for the upcoming holidays, so am hoping I can minimize it if I have lots of great smalls.
As an aside, it's always astounding to me that I can travel a mere 1.5 hours and end up in some perpendicular universe (as opposed to a parallel one): I saw a dune buggy driving the highway, passed a dinosaur adventure park, and overheard a panicked mom asking every vendor: "Do you have any Godzilla figurines?!?" It's a good reminder that I don't live in a foofy vintage bubble.
Here's hoping your weekend merited a Gatorade!
*Seriously, I'm petrified of horses. I think I was 11 when I was invited to a birthday party. Once we arrived, we were transported (back then your mom didn't accompany you) to a horse farm, where we were all unexpectedly expected to go horseback riding (can you imagine the lawsuits these days if that happened?!?). I was PETRIFIED, and it showed. The hostess told the stablehands to give me the gentlest horse, but by the time they located it/him/her, everyone else had taken off. I was all alone on this big ole beast who clearly was unhappier than I was. It kept wriggling, trying (I thought) to get me off. It eventually laid down and I jumped off, sobbing to a degree that no amount of cupcakes could console. Never been NEAR a horse since. Shoppers: please buy my horse-y stuff so I can sleep at night.... please?
