Great Expectations

That’s what I had for the Brimfield Antique Show and it didn’t deliver for me, or my companions.  All 3 of us had waited our whole junkin’ and thriftin’ lives to attend this antique mecca, this patchwork of purveyors, the holy grail of thrifting…..only to hold back tears of disappointment.  Actually, it was sweat pouring down our faces from the 94° heat, but this is a tale of woe, so work with me here.

Luck is where preparation meets opportunity, right?  We were vacationing a 2 hour drive away from the market when we realized the summer show was going to be on during our stay.  We were prepared to do anything necessary within our means to have the opportunity to hit this market, even if only for one day.  After a little begging, pleading, and bribing of the appropriate males to entertain the Things and the other youngsters for the day, we were off.

I saw some wonderful things….

Can I tell you how much I wanted these?  Sonneman maybe?  Doesn’t matter.  At 11:45 am I am told the seller is done for the day and he’s just minding her stuff.  Nothing is marked of course, but I can bet it was out of my league.  I thought about them ALL DAY.  I even went back an hour later just to see if maybe she was there so I could talk to her about them…and she was gone daddy gone.  Just a patch of grass left.

 

By the end of the day, I felt like this guy….

 

I hear you…what’s the problem?   Looks like some pretty cool stuff, right?

Shall we discuss the pricing involved at this market?  It was RETAIL.  This is no longer a market for dealers, unless you’re a 1st Dibs dealer.  It became obvious early on I needn’t have spent so much time scouting out the UPS booth.  New England pricing did not fit into my frugal Nashville budget.

To quote my companion…”Do you hear that sound?  That’s the sound of my heart breaking.”

We adopted that as our mantra of the whole experience.  So we left, with a couple of tiny things, but nothing compared to our great expectations.

We were grateful to return to the cool breeze off the water at the end of such a long, hot, sad day.

Thrifting FAIL.