FLEA MARKETS

These are fun to browse, but the prices of professional dealers are usually too high for me. If I do go to a flea market, I try to get there for the last hour. That’s when the vendors are ready to make deals and clear out the inventory. By the way, I often see those same vendors picking through the goods at yard sales. And they can sometimes be a little arrogant.

Quite a while ago, I fell in love with Bakelite jewelry and started buying it cheaply on country weekends. I wandered into a fancy-dancy shop off Madison Avenue and saw that they had duplicates of my pieces, so I offered to sell the owner some of my collection. He sneered at me like I was some kind of filthy rag peddler, “Sorry. I do not buy from the STREET!” I held on to my Bakelite, which is worth a lot more now than it was then. A little while ago, I sold a few pieces to a dealer, who told me that she is a “picker” for that very same shop. I was tempted to include a note, “Regards from the street!”