I’m not usually the kind of person who assigns divine origins to ordinary things. I don’t think god, if she/he/it/they exist, gives a rat's ass about the outcomes of elections, baseball games, American Idol, or war, for that matter. Deities have better things to do than pay minute attention to the daily lives of their creations; anything more is just the narcissism of human beings.
Still, if it wasn’t fate that sent me to the Best. Garage. Sale. Ever, I don’t think fate exists. Because truly there never was a garage sale more tailored to me than the one across from the house of my friend, Kate Valleroy. She’s a crafty girl I know who happens to be due to pop out a young’un in two months’ time, so I was there to give her a bag of boys’ clothes that little Eddie has *sniff* outgrown. Also, I was there to gawk at her lovely house and wish that we, too, had had the sense to paint and fix our own before the baby came. But that's a whole ‘nother tale.
We were enjoying the atypically lovely St. Louis July weather out on her carport, while my son threw fish food and leaves to her thankful koi and we snarfed down some of the sweetest strawberries I’ve ever eaten. In between bites, she mentioned her neighbor was having a really cool garage sale, and we should go before we left. Since my kid was getting further away from feeding the fish and closer to joining them in the pond, I gathered him (and his father) up, and we moseyed across the street.
Holy flarking shnit.
First of all, there wasn’t a dud in the whole sale. Tons of retro religious kitsch (the seller is a lapsed catholic who alternates between loving religious art and being creeped out by it), ‘shabby chic’ vintage linens, vintage clothing in perfect condition, juice glass sets, retro paint by numbers pictures, 1950’s figurines, and a ton of space age ashtrays back when smoking was still considered classy and refined. I just about shit myself. Every piece was better than the last. It was the best combination of circumstances ever: on one hand, she was an antique dealer, so she knew her shit when acquiring pieces--none of her items were reproductions or poor representations of the era. On the other hand, she was trying to get rid of everything, and the items she was selling weren’t her particular taste, so the prices were low. The killer was that she knew she could get more money for the stuff, but she didn’t feel like it making the extra effort.
I bought less than $50 worth of stuff, but probably walked away with $250 worth of items, easy. She said she might be having another sale, and I’m considering going back and buying another $50 to sell on Ebay or etsy to pay for the first bunch. So to share my good luck with the world (of course, I’m not sharing the location, I’m not quite THAT nice.) I took photos of everything I bought and will let you in on the finds without further ado.
This lovely couple was one of the first things I saw, and I had to have them. For one thing, she was selling them for about a 1/3 of what they’re worth, and for another, I have inherited my grandmother’s tastes for 1950’s Asian kitsch as well as almost all of Gramma's items. These will go nicely in with the rest, as will these:
And these:
In addition to that, I picked up this adorable planter and vintage painted leather doll that are hanging in the catchall shadow box in our dining room. The doll in particular walks that line between cute and creepy that I love so much in my décor. If I’m not a little afraid it’ll come to life and strangle me in my bed, it doesn’t belong in my house.
All that stuff alone is worth what I paid for the whole lot, but then she added the holy grail by having not one, but two double tiered lampshades for sale. The second one she gave me for free. With the lamp attached. She didn’t want to sell it because it needed restringing on one side, but 5 minutes total work in front of the TV will fix that. She gave me a few items for free because I bought so much stuff; also, I think, just because I was so knocked out by everything.
Also free was the little horse statue that I looked at and then put back. The lady was nice enough to throw it in gratis, just because I liked it. Of course, because she did that, I bought an additional whale planter, crescent shaped candy dish, and 4 pieces of vintage jewelry. So maybe she's smarter than me. No, scratch that, she's definitely smarter than me.
But near and dear to my heart was the final purchase: a little vintage sewing basket with all kinds of antique notions inside, including some beautiful 1920's era needle cases. I love all kinds of vintage sewing gear, especially if it has the packaging intact. Some people collect baseball cards, but I'm not much for sports. I'm much happier risking tetanus with sharpened vintage steel.
So where does fate come in, you ask? Well, I was originally supposed to meet Kate on Monday at Cooperella Cafe, but due to my famously unreliable memory, I missed it until it was well over. When I rescheduled for Friday, I forgot that most places would be closed for July 4th, including--you guessed it--Cooperella. Kate was gracious enough to invite me, my erstwhile hubby, and our whirling dervish of a son into her adorable house, which happened to be across the way from this sale, and which she just happened to know about even though it wasn't officially open yet.
For anyone besides me who loves midcentury modern, slightly tacky antiques, you'll understand that having that many things in one place for THAT cheap takes an act of god, or several gods, for that matter. So score one for the big guy. I'm sure he's much more interested in this than the Superbowl anyway. ;)
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