When I was growing up, at least one of my weekend days was spent riding around in the Isuzu Trooper with my dad while he hunted for antiques.  If you’re thinking I was a young antiques enthusiast, you’re kindly and optimistically totally wrong.  It was something we did as a family, and that meant that I was along for the ride.  I would daydream as we drove around in the car until we arrived at an antique store, at which point I would walk around the familiarly dank, dusty, musty space inspecting every item with an interested but jaundiced eye, purely as a way to keep myself from dieing of boredom.  On these days I’d wish that my parents loved Bob’s Discount Furniture or some place “normal” rather than the odd places we frequented.  My brother and I used to joke that if we had to buy a new piece of furniture to save our lives, neither one of us would have any idea where to go to get it because my parents only bought antiques.  Ironically– or maybe it’s more like obviously– I became a prop stylist and now I pretty much spend my working days in some strange repeat, adult version of that childhood weekend day.  Having spent all of those weekends with my dad, I did unwittingly absorb and file away quite a treasure trove of knowledge.  I know where to find stuff… I’m good at the hunt!

My dad’s love of collecting antiques started as a hobby of scavenging and dumpster diving on the streets of New York in the late Sixties and Seventies.  He’d keep some stuff for himself, and hawk the other stuff to antique dealers around the city.  Sound sketchy?  Don’t be fooled– you haven’t met my dad!  “Anything to make a buck”, as he’d say.  These days, I wouldn’t put a little street picking past him, but he generally buys his antiques at actual stores or from legit dealers.  He has a great, dynamic eye and he really knows his stuff when it comes to “junk” (another thing he’d say, although his stuff is far from junk).  He has amassed quite a respectable collection and in his retirement has begun dealing antiques under the name Period Investments of Savannah. One of his biggest shows every year being Brimfield.

Brimfield.  A name that once spawned dread in the deepest parts of my young being.  As a kid, spending the day at Brimfield was like a slow death by torture.  Of course, now that I am an adult I have grown to really enjoy it, I even look forward to it. People in my world talk about Brimfield as a chic weekend trip to an amazing antique market in the country and it gives me such a kick because it’s sort of like someone telling you how amazing and interesting your annoying and gawky younger sibling is.  Anyhow, this year I had a little time off and decided to go help my dad at his booth at Brimfield.

Up at 7am, out of the driveway at 8am, and up to Massachusettes we drove.  We had a great busy day at the show topped off with a torrential downpour of rain just as we started packing up… what would life be without a little challenge thrown at you?!  We packed the car up tight though, and drove the hour and a half back soaking wet where we were welcomed home with a delicious salmon dinner cooked by my mom.  Thanks mom!

We had a busy day but I did get to walk around a tiny bit.  I’ve posted a few pictures from the booth as well as some pictures of things I saw that captured my imagination.  Enjoy!