Gypsy Caravan

(Donna and Joanie, ready to shop.)

Sometimes a yardsaler has to open her mind to new things.

While I love the research, the strategy, and the hunt of a really busy yardsale day, I was persuaded by my friend, Donna, to try something different. It was Gypsy Caravan in St. Louis. Gypsy Caravan somehow benefits the St. Louis Symphony but since I lost the brochure they gave me at the gate, we will all just have to Google it to figure out who was in charge and how they use our money. What I DO know is that there was an entry fee: $5 per person for most of the day. But early birds had to pay EXTRA! We forked over $20 apiece for entry prior to 9 AM. (This is a concept I think we yardsalers could apply to our own trade. Those people who show up before dawn to poke through your stuff and get first dibs? Charge them a buck to shop! I seriously think they'd pay it. They are mostly dealers and hard core shoppers. Somebody try it next weekend!!)

Anywho, with a $20 entry fee, we were among some very elite shoppers, yet there was still an enormous line of people waiting to get in.

Some of these folks are obviously experienced with Gypsy Caravan. Many had carts and totes for hauling their anticipated treasures. Some vendors sold these carts at ten dollars a pop.

So what can one buy at a Gypsy Caravan? It was part flea market, part antique store, part art fair. The first vendor I saw, with a choice location adjacent to the entry gate, was this purse and sunglasses salesman.

I needed sunglasses.

(An aside: yesterday on my morning run I almost literally ran into Donna on her morning run, in the middle of our street. She panted, "Tomorrow! Gypsy Caravan!" I honestly never know what the hell she is talking about. Is she serious? Is she kidding? Is she making some sort of cultural reference I know nothing about? So I said, "What?!" She said, "It's a flea market!" So I said, "Will you drive me?!" She said, "Yes!" I said, "Sweet!" And we both kept running, in different directions. That was about it. So I went about my business all day long. I went to a party at night with my husband and called Donna's cell on the way: "So... um... Donna... what's the deal? Are you, like, picking me up or something? What time should I be ready? Call me back." That was the message I left on her voicemail. I never heard back. We were out until ten. Thank God I was the DD and didn't drink much. Because at 6:15 AM I get a phone call: "It's Donna! I'm picking you up in ten minutes!" I jump out of bed, take the meds, brush the teeth, put on last night's outfit, add some more deodorant to the paste already in my pits, brush some mascara on the lashes, and I'm out the door. All I needed was coffee and cash which we got at the mini mart.)

So, yeah, I forgot my sunglasses. This guy was selling them for ten bucks. If you bought one of his counterfeit purses you could get a pair of shades for five.

But this lady, immediately across the aisle from ten-dollar-shade-man, was selling for five bucks with no required purchase of an illegal handbag. The choice was obvious.

As a photojournalist I felt a little intimidated when I saw an actual news crew from channel 2 reporting on the weird stuff for sale at the Gypsy Caravan. I'll admit I considered approaching them with my business card but didn't have the cojones. (Kids -- that's "balls" in Spanish!)

(This blog business is becoming rather important to me. I don't actually think I'll get rich or famous from it, but as a housewife-and-mother-of-five I feel like this may be the closest I get to a J-O-B. I talked it up so much last night at the party we attended, I was certain we would have followers in the double digits this morning! Alas. We are stuck at nine. So many of them are related to me. Sigh.)

Back to the Gypsy Caravan. Some of the many vendors were junquers. They had antiques and old stuff. I'm not really sure what the difference is between "antiques" and "old stuff". It seems to be the price. I kept thinking about Laura and Samantha, my original yardsale team. Sam would have loved this collection of rolling pins:

Glass, wood, ceramic, textured, smooth... all displayed on a wine rack. I recall a magazine spread in which twenty or so rolling pins were displayed on a kitchen wall. I think this is a worthy item to collect, and Samantha should be encouraged to collect them.

Laura (our blogger with the most excellent vocabulary EVER!) always searches for old card catalog files. AND she loves wood. When I saw this, I knew she would love it. (Except it was over $100 and there was that $20 entry fee! She would have passed out from the shock!)

Then I thought about Cyndi, my friend who loves fabric. She makes all of her home decor from gorgeous, expensive fabrics from Calico Corners. Then, with the remnants, she makes tote bags, aprons, whatever she can think of, for her friends and loved ones. These were some magnet boards which she can easily add to her repertoire. I'm sure they are just steel plates wrapped in fabric. She will do it better and market them more skillfully, I am certain.

Now... please recall the fez from last weekend.

Give yourself a moment to scroll down and read about Soulard and the Pez-fez adventure.

Are you up-to-date? Good. Because look what we found today:

This is an authentic fez, bejeweled with Moolah rhinestones, in a special box, mounted on a satin fez-form...

But wait!

Under the fez is the satin fez-form. Under the satin fez-form is...

a flask!

Is that brilliant?! Does that not encompass all that Fred Flintstone represents?! It was the highlight of our day, Readers, finding this hidden fez-flask. I think we all need to take a moment to scroll down to the post in which Jessica affirms her joy for the world and include the phrase:

"I LOVE MY FEZ-FLASK!"

Do it.

Right now.

Thank you.

Don't you feel invigorated?!

Now. On to the bust...

The bust is something I actually bought. It was only ten dollars, I think I paid nine, and I will use it to display the weird jewelry I buy at future yardsales. But here is the story Joanie relayed about the bust:

Joanie and Donna were looking at the wares in the booth which included the bust. There was a woman, crouched down near the bust, talking on her cell phone:

"Do you want a bust?"

Shouting now, "A BUST! A BUST!"

Now really loud, "A BUST!! B-U-S-T!"

She's not getting through. So she changes her approach:

"A BUST! You know... BOOBS!!!"

I bought the boobs, Reader.

They were unusual and interesting. I harbor no shame.

There were things at the Gypsy Caravan that I wanted but did not buy. I put these in the "Art Fair" category. They were things-made-out-of-other-things and they were clever. In general, I think we should all buy such things to encourage creative thinking and creativity in general.

Here are a variety of birds made from weird metal objects including golf clubs and silverware:

After a few hours of gypsy caravanning (for which we all wore gypsy-style hoop earrings, I must note) we stopped at Uncle Bill's in The Grove for some delicious breakfast and jaded gossip. (Haha. Not really jaded gossip. Just regular gossip.) I had the "Supreme2x2x2x2". Which offered two pancakes, two eggs, two bacons, two sausages, and some hash browns (which probably represent two potatoes!) That's a day's worth of calories, don't you think? Yum.

It was well worth the early wake up. I think Donna and Joanie should be included in future yardsale adventures and might offer unique insight as guest-bloggers. Stay tuned.

Memorial Day Madness

Thank God for Thursday. More specifically, thank God for the lady on Carson who broke with Belleville tradition and held a sale on Thursday. Just when I thought I couldn't wait another minute for the weekend, the weekend came to me! She sold me some beautiful shoes and a few shirts. What is your name, Carson Lady? You deserve individual recognition on the yardsale blog!

Then Friday arrived. It was the last day of school, only an hour of activity, followed by a grand second grade pool party at a friend's house. Desperate freak that I am, I farmed all my kids out, passed on the pool party, and tried to hit about 9 sales on my garage sale map.

I was duly punished by the yardsale gods for this demonstration of screwed up priorities. They smote me with a horribly bad attitude. I could not find one single item to buy. No proprietors excited me with yardsale enthusiasm. My spirits were so badly dampened that even stuff which normally would have caused me to pull out my wallet just left me cold. A bucket of giant pine cones, for instance? That has some kind of craft potential. But all I could do was sigh and slump back to my van. The morning was a total waste of gasoline. I must remember that sometimes - sometimes- there is something better to do than yardsale. In those instances I must choose the correct path.

But, Readers, I am resilient! Saturday dawned fresh and new! My faith in yardsaling had been restored in the night. I had a wallet bursting with singles. I had Sam and Henry, two twelve year old yardsalers-in-training who were ready to play Louise to my Thelma!

Henry tried to bring our adventure into the tech age with his iPad. He downloaded the lists of sales from the News-Democrat's website and froze it on the iPad for reference while

driving. But his iPad is (sadly) only WiFi, not 3G, so we didn't have access to Google Maps or anything so his list was just a list. It wasn't very helpful.

But he does have some excellent music on that thing which he played for us as we sped along country roads, searching for sales which I had plotted on this paper using the tried-and-true method of pen on paper.

The first sale of the day... BAM! Success! I found this wooden giraffe for 50 cents.

(A note on what I buy and why:

Some things I buy because they are a bargain. Nice shoes, for example, or a beautiful pair of pants in just my size.

Some things I buy because I need them anyway. Today I bought two laundry baskets, for example. I often need new laundry baskets and paying $3 at a yardsale is better than paying $12.99 at Target.

Some things I buy because they are funny and the act of buying them brings me joy. The Moolah fez from last week, for example, has no purpose other than to bring joy and laughter into my life. It is entertainment in tangible form. And at $6, I think the fez has brought me more entertainment than I could get from an evening at the average movie or an afternoon at the mini-golf course. The wooden giraffe falls into this category.)

Next we found Bettina Dr., in Swansea. They had a street-long sale, one sale after another, each one revealing itself gradually, like fireflies on a summer evening. Just when we thought there were no more, another one would peek out at us from around the next parked car.

The neighborhood motto on Bettina appears to be "Buy in Bulk". Almost every sale in this neighborhood had a large quantity of some unusual product for sale. One sale offered a box of 50 t-shirts for $1 each which sported the "College" logo from John Belushi's Animal House.

The next offered this pile of many nail clippers: 25 cents each.

Then a table full of Croc-like shoes...

many many kitten collars...

a large selection of new-in-box pocket knives...

a dozen sheathed daggers...

and finally, hundreds of rolls of outdoor fabric, $1 per yard. These are mostly the ends of rolls but as you can see there are quite a few with multiple yards left on the roll. These were only two of the three huge bays holding the fabric. I was so overwhelmed by the bounty, I didn't buy any but filed away the address for the next time I take on an outdoor sewing project.

Bettina Dr. made us hungry so I thought we should stop at my favorite oasis... the QT!

Here are Sam and Henry just moments before their first experiences with the clean bathrooms, ample drink choices, and tasty taquito-ness that make up the QT experience.

(Note: I gave my card to the QT worker in the hopes that he will become a regular reader and thus will begin my advertising-for-taquitos strategy. What say you, fine sir? Does regular, favorable advertising on the yardsale blog merit a free taquito now and then?)

Sam and Henry, of course, enjoyed their taquitos and were rejuvenated by the refreshing fountain beverages they selected from the plentiful offerings at the soda bar.

As we headed for home we skivved this sale in Olde Belleville. They were a lively bunch, very enthusiastic about yardsaling and the prospect of blog-fame. They were so desperate to unload this chair and stuffed animal that they were offered "Free with purchase of anything!" Technically, I had license to take both these things after I bought the 10 cent Jesus statue for my friend Kit. But I don't need a desk chair and the bunny was rather disturbing: squeeze his feet in the right place and he plays a tinny, eerie rendition of the classical tune of your choice. The effect was not as soothing as this toy's designer likely intended.

Last, but in no way least, was this compelling wooden sculpture of a woman. She lies in repose until you spread her legs. Then you place a walnut between her smooth thighs and leverage her ankles to crack the nut into smithereens. Honestly. I can't say any more about her. But if you desire her fiercely and feel $1 is a fair price, then comment to this post and I will direct you to her current owner. I suspect she lies there still, waiting for you and your nuts.

Over and out.

Nancy

Boots have feelings too

Recall a sale from a month or so ago at which I bought 200 empty, clean peanut butter jars for a dollar? It was the same sale where I bought the orange juice concentrate lids. Since then I have used a few jars to hold little stuff: nails, thread, craft supplies, whatever.

Stay with me, Readers!

And remember the kickin' cowgirl boots from a few days ago? Those boots brought my boot collection to a critical mass... I needed to rethink the storage of the boots. They were all just piled haphazardly on the floor of my closet, and frankly, such wonderful footwear deserves more respect.

So I displayed all the boots on the deep ledge above my closet. But look how floppy they are? They are limp and sad.

Concentrate... here is the genius part.

My mom, Betty, had a stroke of brilliance. Here is what it looked like:

Her idea: use the empty peanut butter jars inside the boots to keep them upright!

Here is the result -- erect, perky, proud footwear, standing tall, ready for action!

Campbell wants a different Pez Dispenser

Yes, Readers, there were low points in the day. Don't think our job is all fun and games.

Brendan the Juggler!

I forgot to tell you about our talent scouting adventure!

As we canvased The Hill for yardsales, we stumbled upon this fine street performer luring shoppers into his yardsale by mesmerizing them with his talents.

Keep practicing, Brendan! Next year we want to see you juggling three balls while jumping on the trampoline!

The fez and Pez

This lovely Italian woman from the Hill spoke just like my great grandmother. She was delightful. If you have never been to the Hill, you simply must drop everything and go there. Especially if you are Italian. You will fit in like garlic on bread.

I love Soulard. Really, I do. The old homes, the green consciousness. But sometimes in quirky old neighborhoods, you have quirky personalities. Here, someone has cleverly nestled a strikingly non-lifelike owl in an old tree. To ward off nesting songbirds? Maybe. To draw more owls? Perhaps. To freak out yard salers innocently walking past? Definitely.

Here we are, crammed in the sweet Odyessy, which we decided today has not merely an adequate trunk, but a cavernous one.

Here is another intersting thing spotted in Soulard. The quality is poor, but there is a fake, howling cat with a vividly red mouth snarling in a window, along with a Brinks home security sticker and video camera.

Here, in the same building but another window, is a fake dog with a video camera. Why, Soulardian? Why do you do this to the sidewalkers?

I can not take credit for the rhyming title of this post. That credit belongs of course to Nancy and Donnie, seen here with their ryhyming treasures. This was taken in Soulard.

When you take a 3 year old and 6 year old yardsaling from 6:40am-2pm, you get a little desperate to keep them entertained. So you give them your camera. Here is Campbell taking a picture of Hudson in Soulard.

Here is someone taking a picture of a sideways house as we rapidly drove by. I am assuming it is one of my children.

Here is Campbell taking a picture of himself. I realize you may be thinking, "But, Laura, I do not read your blog to see pictures that your kids took." It was a long day, and as Nancy so astutley pointed out, I was wilting, and wilting fast. This is the best I've got, and really, he is adorable, isn't he?

Here is a delightful picture of Nancy that one of my cherubs took. See? Do you see how her mid-yardsale nap perked her right up? And how she was all yardsaley-Viagara?

I drove and brought along bookoos (sp.?) of food for the children and adults. It really is amazing how poorly you eat on yardsaling day. And how non-existant hygiene becomes. The soiled underpants, which you will read about below, really is the epitome of how desperate things can get on any given Saturday.

Sadly, good readers (and followers! Hi, all 9 of you!), may be my last post for awhile. I am starting school on Monday and will be spending Saturdays with my family, so you may not hear from me. But never fear, as Viagra Nancy is more than capable of helming this mother of a yardsaling blogship.

Soulard -- Take Two!

We left Signal Hill at 6:40 this morning to get to Soulard by 7. We wanted to GET THE GOOD STUFF, MAN!

But many of the Soulardians were not ready for us at 7. It took them a little while to prepare their sales. Usually you say 8-12 and you are ready at 7, right? Well, these folks said 7-12 and meant it.

Our very first sale of the day was the Mother-Daughter-Extravaganza. They had some excellent clothes and one very wonderful Letter K Beaded Change Purse. Betty was thrilled with it. She bought it for Auntie Karen, who should be reading this blog regularly by the way, because she loves to shop and appreciates special things.

The mothers and daughters pictured below are: Betty and Nancy, Angie and Laura, Debbie and Abigail. (We don't really know if their names were Debbie and Abigail but we THINK that's what their names were. It was our first sale of the day and we didn't write down their names. Sorry!)

Here we are at the Mother-Daughter-Extravaganza. I am wearing the dress I bought. "Wearing" means I put the hanger over my head and made it look like the dress was draped on my body. Betty is wearing the pink crinkly shirt she bought. The other people are just wearing regular old clothes.

Then we followed our map to this sale:

For me, this was the highlight of the day. I found The Fez, the highlight of my shopping day. What's up with The Fez? Is it Turkish or Mideastern or American or what? The shiners wear them. Fred Flintstone wore one. And the Grand Moolah is a big deal, right? Here we go:

The fez people had a shop-full of merchandise. I think they have a regular store or a repeated sale or something. They had a lot of good stuff. They had a doll graveyard:

And a collection of Ken heads which disturbed me:

Here is Rich , the previous owner of The Fez. Six dollars later, now I am the owner of The Fez.

I KNOW he looks better in The Fez than I do. You don't have to say so. But the tassel was so luxurious and silky. It felt really good on my face. I think I might keep The Fez, even though it was intended to be a gift for my brother.

More Soulard: There was a fine sale on 12th. They had a giant wooden parrot and some excellent 25cent snacks. I don't think we bought anything but it was only because we had to PEE SO BAD!

We finally found a sale with an open bathroom. But, BAD NEWS, there was a nasty pair of underwear on the floor and NO TOILET PAPER! Thank GOD Betty had procured some bleachy sanitary wipes at a prior sale so we could not only dry our bottoms but sanitize them as well.

What are the circumstances which led to the nasty underpants on the floor of this bathroom? Somebody had diarrhea and left his pants? Somebody had a juicy fart and couldn't live with the shame? Why has no one placed these underpants in a trash receptacle? I can't stand in judgement because we were SO THANKFUL to have a potty when we needed one. But, seriously, what is going on here?

On to The Hill!

The Hill is a predominantly Italian neighborhood in St. Louis with many fine restaurants. Laura and Angie are in touch with their Italian roots, so they felt very comfortable and at home on The Hill. We found a sale with an enormous collection of quality clothes for one dollar a piece. I couldn't even appreciate the clothing adequately because there was so much of it. I only bought 5 things and I could have bought 20.

We needed a snack. Fellow shoppers insisted we try Missouri Baking Co.

YUM. Go there. Today. Right now.

Close to the baking company we found a pretty little house with a pretty little garage. See how the garage has every other brick or so painted a pretty little color?

The proprietress of this sale was a lovely Italian Nana. Laura wanted to cuddle her on the spot. From Nana we bought a set of 5 Smurf glasses. (4 Smurfs and 1 Smurfette) I think this was my second favorite purchase of the day, after the fez. The Italian Nana had a few duds as well. Here is Betty modeling some cwazy pants:

On The Hill, we met Diane and Abigail. They had a plethora of girlie items including a purse made out of seat belts and some pink, furry leg warmers.

As we tried to find the highway we skivved a sale by the Botanical Gardens. The proprietor was SUPER CRABBY! He didn't take our card when offered and did not appreciate our yardsale enthusiasm. Here is Laura with his test tubes:

And Laura with his Gun Cleaning Kit:

And me trying to make a sound on his wacky African flute thing which I think I was probably playing improperly:

Boo on you, Mister gun-cleaning-test-tube-using-flute-playing-man. You were pretty cute but not at all enthusiastic about the yardsaleblog and its editors.

From The Hill we drove back to Illinois. There was a city-wide sale in Caseyville.

Readers. Caseyville, from my experience, is sad and economically depressed. We shopped their sale way past the prime yardsale hours and found very little to get excited about. Maybe they had excellent stuff prior to 11:30. Probably they did. Their sales were prolific. But we couldn't find anything to buy. We were getting tired. Laura was wilting. I was on some sort of Yardsale-Viagra, but I think that was because I took a tiny nap between The Hill and Caseyville.

The best sale in Caseyville involved this artist and his pens:

He makes beautiful pens from unusual woods. Look for them at the next art fair you attend.

Here is the saddest thing we saw in Caseyville. There's not even an apostrophe. Does this person not actually know how to spell "garage"? This makes me feel sort of depressed.

We finished the day with some delicious ice cream from Dairy Haven in Caseyville.

DAIRY HAVEN. You should go there. Right now. It was delicious and affordable. It is the best thing Caseyville has to offer.

Click on the "FOLLOW" link!

See you next week!

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