Thrift stores and antique shops: tapping into the memory vault once again

I’ve always been fascinated and intrigued by flea markets and thrift shops. And, I like antique shops. but mainly if they have old books and retro collectible stuff from the Fifties and Sixties. It’s amazing what manner of junk masquerades as “antiques” in some of these places. At times, I find myself gasping at the awful, overpriced stuff on sale. But that’s the fun part about these places. There’s always the off chance you’ll stumble in some item that you instantly have to have. It might immediately open the floodgates of childhood memories.

For instance, about 20 ago, I and some friends from work took a little road trip together upstate to one of the best barbecue buffets anywhere, bar none. And that is no exaggeration. Since I first went there 45 years ago, I’ve always thought of it as buffet nirvana: perfection in every way, from the fried chicken and pulled pork, to the potato salad and vegetables cooked in real Southern fatback, to the most delicious banana pudding ever for desert. Plus, of course unlimited sweet tea.

This eatery in a small town in South Carolina, located on a highway that’s the gateway to the mountains, was our principle goal of the trip, in addition to seeing a former go-worker who lived in the area and joined us.

Afterward we roamed the Main Street of the little town, and wandered in an antique store that had some truly amazing things. I bought an old framed print of a grist mill, which regrettably I don’t know what happened to, but the real prize was a cake holder that was identical to the one my mother had back in the Fifties and Sixties. I recognized it immediately, and, of course, bought it.

What a treasure house of memories from my childhood and even later! Mom made delicious birthday cakes from scratch for us kids, and my favorite was her famous “butter cake,” which had two layers of white cake covered with the most mouth-watering icing I’ve ever tasted. It consisted only of pure butter and sugar mixed together in a blender with maybe some vanilla or other flavoring. I’m not sure. It was too rich for my younger sister, and I think my brother and I loved it.

To be sure, the atmospherics and mood in a cluttered and musty antique shop in a 19th century storefront, on the Main Street of a small town, is more conducive to the kind of treasure hunting I occasionally indulge in. However, a Goodwill thrift store has its own virtues and appeal. There is little chance you’re going to find a valuable antique once you enter, but you will find an awesome collection of the most pitiable, tacky and forlorn castoff belongings to be had anywhere else. I’m not referring to clothes. You can find some really high quality items, as I’ve discovered buying shirts there. But the rest of the stuff is a feast of pure kitsch. It takes your breath away momentarily.

Also, it seems like everything in a thrift store has a story to tell, leaving it up to your imagination to guess at what could have possessed people to buy these things they later gave away to Goodwill. I’m always more astounded than turned off because it’s quite enjoyable trying to figure out why this sometimes sublimely ridiculous stuff exists in the first place. Endless possibilities. But then I remind myself that, as they say, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.” So true.

I couldn’t resist taking some photos of items on the shelves during a recent visit. Remember, every picture tells a story, no matter what it’s of. I managed to snag something I really liked, but don’t really know what it’s called or used for. It just struck me as very old-fashioned and something one would never see in a store today.

Anyway, from all this you can tell that, among other things, I’m a treasure hunter for artifacts of popular culture that directly tap into my memory vault. Also, I sometimes think I missed my calling — I should have been an academic and taught sociology (the topic of a future entry) and American studies/popular culture. Alas!

https://www.flickr.com/gp/camas/72N6d8

Latest purchase. I figure it to be something you’d see in the bedroom of a late 19th century Victorian house near downtown in a small town or city, or in a country farmhouse.