Antique Dealers are the Same Abroad--But the Shops are Not

Dear Husbola and I just returned from a two week trip to London and Paris.  The trip celebrated our 25 year marriage and gave us a jump start after a weird medical few months.  Nothing pops you out of the doldrums like full throttle blooming cherry trees in Paris and smiling daffodils and primroses in London.

For us antiquers--a little antique hunting in spring time can fight away the winter blues pretty well too.  In a previous post--I mentioned that shipping and cost has made Europe antique buying a tough occupation these days.  While in London, Husbola and I did plan a few days out of London to visit old antique haunts--and had reserved a bit of room in the suitcases--as well as had our tape ready if we would find a treasure to send back via a shipper.  But--this was a vacation trip--not like the non stop antique hunts of previous years.

Stop Number One--We go to a "fall off the train into the shop town" with four large shops and have always come away with bags and bags.  This trip--the best part was a great strong coffee from a new coffee house nearby.  We combed the shops--where are the great paintings-sporting items-victorian decoratives that we have bought in the past?  Not there.  We did buy a large collection of great old brass sprinkling can nozzles--the buyers at our next show at Blumen Gardens in Sycamore will love them--but that was it.  That was it.

Stop Number Two--Brocante Fair in small town.  The day was sunny, crisp and anticipation was high.  Best to say we bought some french enamelware from one dealer and spent 15 minutes at the fair.  Maybe 16 minutes.  Bad lunch.  Nice view of the sea.   Better move on to Stop Number Three.

Stop Number Three-We saved the best for last.  Our favourite Sussex town.  We were to start the day with a small auction, move on to pub lunch and then hit four or five true blue shops.   This auction house is filled with gritty dealers from London and afar--the smell of bacon rolls and coffee hits the nose as you peruse the inventory.  Auction report?--everything was broken, chipped, dirty, incomplete or reproduction. WHAT???  You could have found silver bits and bobs--but we don't "do" silver.  We left before the auction started.  We went to a true blue shop--and FINALLY-- did find some things.  We were met by the smiling faces of the owner Simon and dealer Stephen who remembered us from years past.  We came away with quite a few french decoratives--you will see those at our spring shows too.

I can report the pub lunch was great.  Husbola had his once a year glass of  bitter so he did not grumble the rest of the day.  The rest of the shops proved unfruitful.  One was filled with second hand and repro.  We did find a couple of small tables and  other larger pieces--but we were not shipping this time.  We returned to London with a single carrier bag of loot.

It was good to catch up with Simon and Stephen--they report that they still get American dealers--but I sensed they were quite subdued in their reports.  I did notice several empty cabinets--waiting for new dealers to move in.  Nothing different from the US--being an antique dealer today means you have to negotiate rough waters.

More soon on our Paris part of the adventure...

Antiquing in England

Dear Husbola and I are eagerly anticipating a trip "across the pond" this early spring.  We will spend a week-ish in London before we head to Paris with a petite group of new and old friends.  The purpose of the trip is to celebrate 25 years of marriage and celebrate current good health and the ability to travel.  The purpose of the trip is NOT  business and not antiquing.

For nearly 24 years--each March we made the trek to England to spend several weeks in the exciting and mad hunt for treasures to sell in our antique shop and show venues.  We would rent a flat in London, purchase Britrail tickets--and pack not clothes for the theatre or dining out--but collapsible carts, huge canvas bags, bungee cords, rolls upon rolls of packing tape (UK cello tape just is not great!) and inventory stickers and take on the antiques trade by storm.


Each day we would head out by train, visit a fair or a town with shops and buy items, load them up and carry them back to our rented flat.  Our flat turned into a packing warehouse--with large cartons and bubble wrap rolls the size of truck wheels.  We would pack all the items--and then our trusty Shipper Eric would come by a couple of times during the visit to haul the boxes away and prepare them for shipping.  I know Husbola remembers fondly all the items I purchased over the years that would not fit into a standard shipping box--and he would have to make "a special box".  This task was not all that easy as he was working with a Swiss army knife. 

Nope--not this time--our trip is NOT for antiquing.  No--NOT this time.  Really.  Shipping costs have skyrocketed. There is no economical way to get stuff from there over here. We do not do huge containers of brown furniture.  Brown furniture is cheap over there--and no one wants it over here.  Towns that used to be stuffed with great little shops have dwindled--and great towns like Arundel, Hungerford, Long Melford and Honiton barely have shops anymore.  At least not shops with interesting decorative smalls with room for us to make a profit.

Antique fairs in England are still bustling.  But let's face it--dealers used to deal more.  UK dealers had it right for many years--their turnover was great.  They would buy something in the morning from another dealer--take it to a fair that weekend and sell it and turn it over -make a few quid and constantly keep their inventory moving.  No more.  Their discounts are not great anymore.  Auction house have gotten as greedy at USA ones.  20% commissions are the killer for a dealer buying for resale.

Nope--we are NOT going to antique this trip.  We are staying in a hotel--not a flat.  A nice hotel where we cannot be lugging a cart through the lobby to our room.  Husbola has to pack a jacket and tie--not blue jeans and packing tape.  We are going to some art exhibits and do lots of walking around the beautiful parks stuffed with primroses and daffodils.  We are going to bookshops and have tea at Fortum and Mason.

Well--there is that little auction house in Sussex we like--and they have a Monday auction.  And then there is that fall off the train and into a shop that we like up north.  It has been a few years since we scoped out Portobello Road--if just for the atmosphere.

Shhhhh.  Don't tell Husbola.  I just swapped a pair or trousers for a couple of rolls of packing tape in my suitcase...

Where Have All the Clotheslines Gone?

Husbola and I live in a part of the world that does not have clotheslines.  When have you last seen one?  I mean the real outdoor kind--with two large metal posts and several lines strung between them.  I don't see the lines in our area--let alone lines filled with freshly washed sheets towels and "unmentionables".  They seem to have disappeared from the suburban Chicago landscape.

Well I know where to find some--Husbola and I found them last weekend while attending a couple of antiques shows  in central Illinois Amish country near Arcola.  Each spring we attend two shows in the tiny town of Arthur--which prides itself on being the largest Amish settlement in Illinois.

It was a dismal blustery gray weekend--but we enjoy going to this part of the state because it is so different from where we come from.  I promise I will not be patronizing and use the "quaint" word when describing the settlement.  The Amish in Arthur run a  great antique store, rent out their large community center for one of the antique shows and have a fabulous grocery store lit by gas lamps.  We loaded up on a fabulous cinnamon friendship bread, organic soup mixes and Husbola sneaked in some homemade nut candy.  Did I mention the locally made mustards and brown eggs?  Oh my!  You find this store off the beaten path--way down a road that is not much larger than a driveway.

And the clotheslines!!  Yup--it is gray and dark and dismal day--but house after house had a large line out back and on  Friday most of the lines were covered in laundry.  Nothing too brightly colored--but it was terrific to see the wash flapping in the stiff wind.  Can't you just smell that fresh air on the sheets when they were brought in the house?  Friday must be the traditional washday in this settlement.  What discipline in housework.  Heck-at our house--sometimes there is no washday until we run out of clean underwear!

Another highlight was finding a fabulous hole in the wall BBQ rib joint for supper one night.  We knew it had promise as there was a HUGE smoking smoker outback.  Dry rub ribs at Pauly's--with a variety of sauces to put on them--and one with a great "kick".

I am still thinking about those clotheslines.  I grew up in houses with them.  I love the smell of sheets and towels after flapping in the breeze.  Our house actually has a big umbrella like thing in the garage.  There is a sunken pipe in the yard and the thing can be set up--with great effort--actually a two person job.  But it puts it right in the front yard.  I wonder what the neighbors would think?  Do I care?  Naahhh.

Drive by sometime this spring--and check out our "unmentionables.

What Made Me Think of This Story?

Something about this time of year makes me really eager for warmer weather and the antique events that accompany it.  Nobody has auctions outside this time of year. I am not eager to sit in my cold car waiting for an estate sale to open.  There are no outside markets or sales venues--so what is left?  A midwinter antique show or two.

This past weekend--Husbola and I were set up at an antique show--and as is always the case--there are ebbs and flows in the crowd and sales.  It was during one of these ebbs that I started thinking about my antiquing beginnings--and one particular event--about 40 years ago.

Antique auctions were a several times a summer past time while vacationing as a child in central Wisconsin.  My Grandma in particular loved to go to a good farm auction--and she would buy things to use in the cottage--she was not selling them on.

One particular August, several family members and I attended a huge estate auction.  One of those auctions that I would give my eye teeth to freeze in time and attend that same auction today.  The treasures that were not evident to a young 11 year old--that would be candy to this 51 year old today.  I remember seeing a huge mayonnaise jar filled to the brim with marbles.  Grandma bid on that jar for me--but it went too high for her at 5 dollars.  So instead--I got a huge mayonnaise jar of crayons.  I think it was a dollar.

My grandma and mother were both interested in a singer treadle sewing machine.  It was a fabulous example in a wooden case--and the machine was beautifully painted and it was a in super condition.  In addition--this was when the craze of copper wash boilers and milk cans were also big--there was one of each of those.  So we all waited patiently for these items of interest to come up for bid.

All of a sudden--there was a huge crash on the street next to  the farm yard.  Many people started running to the road to see what the commotion was.  A woman's car had run out of control and crashed headlong into a parked car.  My dad was one of the people who ran to the noise to see what had happened.  Just as quickly he was running back to us to inform us that the car that was "run into" was ours.

OH NO!! said we women as we all ran to the car to survey the damage.  Now what?  How will we get home?  How will dad be able to get back to the city to his job tomorrow?  Do they even have tow trucks in this part of the country?

"Wait," says Grandma. "Is the auction still going on?  "All the crowd is down here, looking at your Daddy's car," she added. "There is no one up there to bid--quick--let's GO!"

Grandma grabbed me and grabbed my mother--and off we ran --AWAY from the wreck, back to the auction site.

I bet you can figure out the rest of the story.  Copper wash tub--$3.00.  Milk Can-$1.00.  Sewing Machine-$6.00.  Car repairs?  Who knows.  It was a great day.

Northern Illinois Antique Dealer's Association Show --A Gem of a Show

For many years, Husbola and I have attended this show as customers not dealers.  It is held in February--at the perfect time for antique lovers and decorators to start getting serious cabin fever.  Christmas is way back in the rear view mirror--any thought of serious spring is not even in focus yet--but most people are ready to be seeing fresh merchandise and start the spring summer cycle of the antique hunt.

The show is held at the Forest Hills Lodge Feb. 19-20--which is north of Rockford and on Hwy 173.  It now is very accessible as there is an exit off I-90/39.  The show is the perfect size--with 40 or so dealers--and I am happy to say that we are one of them this year.

Shows are changing and disappearing at a very rapid pace these days.  We have had to edit out a few shows in the past few years.  The customer base is changing--tastes are changing-discretionary income has changed--and it seema that shows and show management is frequently too slow in adapting.  The NIADA show is more than 50 years old.  Over the years that we have attended--there is some turn over in dealers--but there always seems to be a good balance of furniture-smalls-quirky-traditional-career dealers and fresh faces.

We have been taking time and care in planning our booth--We like to present a very fresh, new to market look.  We want to put out new finds and items we have bought especially for the show--not stale merchandise that we refer to as "old friends."  This show brings out a large crowd--"like the good old days" of shows in the 1980s and 90s--remember--I think it is the cabin fever thing and the good mix of stock.  It is not a "snobby" show--and one that is popular with the public and dealers alike.

Maybe as you feel the weekends roll around these days--you have this agitation that you just can't put your finger on.  That discomfort that a trip to a shopping mall or movie theater just won't remove.  Trust me--try a mid winter antiques show--it is a cure for many ills.

Antiques are Antiques at 100 Years Old--Gall Bladders are Antique at 51 Years

I think the medical Black Cloud has finally passed over Lady Antique Dealer's house--and we are looking forward to a good and profitable 2011 with no more medical nonsense..  Another delay in this blog writing was due to a week in the hospital and the return home without a very dreadful gall bladder.

So now we are readying ourselves to get installed in our next antique adventure--a new booth at the Odana Antique Mall in Madison Wisconsin.  We had been on a waiting list for sometime--but space does not open often at this shop.  If you visit it--you will know why--it simply is the best shop you will see in Wisconsin--and maybe a much wider area than that.  It is housed in a former furniture store--and has excellent lighting.  The owner and management are commited to presenting a good shop--they care about the shop--what it looks like--and the booths must be tended and freshened regularly.  I have yet to find a dusty stale booth.  In this economic climate--dusty and stale sits and does not sell.  Period.

Now Husbola and I have loaded the truck with treasures--well priced we hope.  When you are in a large good quality shop--price point and condition are most important.  There is good competition from other dealers.  We like that--it keeps us on our toes to find good items--and we don't become complacent and just let our stuff sit and rot in our space.

We will try a little bit of this and a little bit of that.  Some furniture-paintings-small decorative items.  Our space is small--and we will not overstuff it.  Haven't you been in a shop that is so stuffed you cannot see individual things and your eyes glaze over with disinterest?

Husbola and I try something new each year-to keep our business fresh.  We look forward to 2011--a couple new shows and a fresh shop to try.  We are even throwing in a trip to the UK--and might pick up a treasure or two. We promise our customers some interesting and fresh to market decorative items--and much more regular blog postings!

As Simple at That

This past autumn-before I fell and broke my arm and had to take a two month hiatus from active antiquing--Husbola and I took a trip out west.  This kind of rambling car trip always involves stopping at any antique shop we pass.  We use the excuse that it is to stretch our legs, "or visit the washroom" but in reality--we can't help ourselves.  We love to poke around and maybe find some neat old stuff.

It is as simple as we always hope to find something  in a regional that is a sleeper item-- one that will be reasonably priced and will strike the fancy of our midwestern clients.

There is one little shop--in one little town slightly off the interstate in South Dakota that has become an entertaining stop.  After miles and miles of tumbleweeds and Wall Drug Store signs, it is time for a break in a town where the speed limit on Main Street is 20 mph and you pass five churches to get to the store.  In previous years--the shop was on the opposite side of the street and now it has expanded to the other side.  Other times we have stopped and it has been closed for the day.  But this particular day, the shop was open and we ventured in.

We were greeted this time by an elderly lady (roughly defined as anyone 40 years older than me!) sitting in the front window.  When we stepped in we were immediately spoken to and we all made bright conversation about the incredible high winds that day and  the generally dismal weather.  It became quickly clear that this woman was not the shop owner--but a local gal who came in everyday to pass the time.  This was her seat and her role was to chat up the customers.  The shop owner spoke to us from the register and continued her business.  The elderly woman continued talking.  And talking.

The shop had expanded and was full of items that one would find in South Dakota-mostly farm primitives and useful household items.  You don't  antique shop in SD to find decorative items--the practical nature of life there over the years allows for items actually used and pretty standard collectibles.  We focus on advertising and primitives and usually find something to take back with us.

We were watched and followed quite closely by the aged woman.  In fact, she followed me around the shop and commented on most of the items I picked up.  Now--I just really dislike that.  I am a shopper that likes to be greeted--but then left alone to browse.  This is a practice Husbola and I follow with our clients--greet them and let them wander--don't mug the customers.

After a while, I sort of ignored her--I would throw in a "hmmm" or "uh huh" every once in awhile but I was able to shop around.   She did periodically pick something up and ask me if I knew what it was or tell me that her mother had had "one" and explain what it was used for.  She actually became quite entertaining.  I ended up picking some items called miner's tags.  These are very decorative brass tags that had the names and number of a particular miner stamped on them--and she explained that when the man went underground, the tag would be hung on a board--so the company would know who was underground.  This was particularly interesting to me as the miner's in Chile were still stuck underground.

We found a few other things and eventually checked out.  As we were walking out the door, the older woman asked," You're not from around here are you?"  We replied that no we lived in northern Illinois and were just tourists. "Do you live on a farm or in town?' she asked.  Startled by that question--we hesitantly said "in town" although that is really not the right answer.--but we know we do not live on a farm.  "I thought so" she replied.  Out the door we went.

As we headed back to the tumbleweeds and the interstate--I started thinking about this older woman.  So many times when Husbola and I stop in shops--NO ONE speaks up as you enter.  In one shop we know, a newspaper is more important to the clerk than customer service.  Certainly talk about the weather or discussion about certain antiques is never on the menu in many shops.  Heck--sometimes a "thank you" after a purchase is not on the menu.  This old gal has found a shop owner friend who is willing to let her hang out in her store.  Being elderly in small town South Dakota could be mighty isolating and lonely--this lady goes home each night with stories from the shop and a reason to get up the next day.

Sometimes she even gets to educate visiting city folks about farm primitives and miner's tags.