The Sale Groupies. By Suzy Ince

The estate sale world like many popular cultural events, have groupies. Yes, groupies, like Queen or The Eagles have groupies. 

Not the screaming crying groupies of the Beatles, which fainted with every shake of a mop top. Not that we haven't experienced screaming, crying and fainting at estate sales, but those usually come in the form of a wee toddler who knows how to work a room.

I'm talking about the faithful.

The people who will crawl out of bed at the butt crack of dawn and venture bleary eyed, through a snowpocalypse, driving one handed, while the other wipes the fog off the window, and the other balances a steaming cup of coffee, (Driving, wiping, balancing, oops too many hands, or are there?) all because The Brass Keys Estate Sale Company is having a showing. (Showing the new term for a sale in the estate sale community.) 

Like Grandma always said, "If your on time to an estate sale, you're already late."

They come in one, two, threes or more, but they come and wait quietly outside for the doors to open, so they can be the first ones in the doors.

They wait in the rain. 

They wait in the snow.

But they wait, and wait, and just as the doors open some jerk pops to the front of the line and says, "This rock, is my line holder. I placed it here this morning. See, I was waiting in my car over there." And you will stare dumbfounded as he is the first one to walk in the door. You want to kick him, punch him, hit him with your thermos of hot coffee, or pour your hot coffee on him. I personally would go with all of the above. It's not right that you stood there for hours to be the first one in the door and yet this jerk just plopped his keys, shoe, rock, or toenail clippings, in front stoop and then took a nap in his car. Some estate sale companies allow line holders and you should check their websites before you show up early. Fore warned is fore armed. Knowing a company does NOT allow line holding, gives you the freedom to pick up any keys, rocks or shoes, (Don't touch the toenails.) and fling them into the street. It might cause a stir with the one who put them there, but you have right on your side.

Okay, enough said. Back to the wonderful world of groupies.

Groupies are the life blood of the estate sale world. I myself have sorted these into the following classifications.

First you have the Pickers.

These are the pushy guys who put out line holders at several sales at one time. They are bullies and try to push the cashiers into giving them a deal on the first day. Deals as we all know are reserved for the last day of the sale. They are usually loud and talk bad about the sale even as they are seeing it for the first time. Disregard anyone you see talking down a sale or a company. You're an adult, make up your own mind.

Next there is the Interior Designers.

Usually a woman, but there are men out there. They know quality when they see it and are not afraid to pay the price for it. They are gentle beings out to help a customer of their own. They are often seen with a measuring tape or swatches of material. If you are in the market for an interior designer of your own don't be afraid to approach them and ask them for a card. Then watch them carefully as they fret over several items. If you feel they have good taste give them a call.

Which brings me to restaurant owners.

Looking to enhance the atmosphere of their Bistro, they too are seen with measuring tape in hand. One of our groupies actually comes in his Chef's coat. This helps him advertise his establishment, while he is looking for just the right piece that will welcome you into his world.

My last classification of Groupie is,

The Girls Day Out.

I say girls, but I've seen just as many guys come through the doors with their buds. These are people out having fun for the day. They may have a certain item they are looking for, or they don't know what they're looking for until they stumble across it. They've been together forever and you can watch them motion to each other when they see something they feel the others would like. A cheer can usually be heard when they've struck gold. It's a fun day out and there's no stress to anything they do. After a few sales, it's off to lunch, to plot out which set of sales they will tackle next. Suffice it to say this group is my favorite.

Which ever classification you fit into, and you know which one you are, remember that estate sale companies are working, not only for themselves, but for a client. So if you can't get that Faberge egg for a buck-fifty remember it's not up to the sales person to change the price and if you want to play the odds make sure you are the first one in line on the last day, which is when you can get the deal you were hoping for.

Happy  Sale-ing.

Age is Just a Number. By Katie Kucharski

Estate sales. Vintage shops. Antique stores. Oh My! No matter how many of these I attend I will still walk around feeling odd. But why? Just because I am usually the only one under the age of 30 walking around and actually interested, not just dragged.

This is my Mom, Sister, and Me. Yes we enjoy vintage hats. And we look good!

But lets back up for a minute...
I was the kid who accompanied everyone to these places as a kid, and sure sometimes I would be that  kid who was throwing a tantrum. But for the most part I love to be there with the older members of my family, listening to their stories of memories of similar objects, and imagining the stories of the items that were unique and sometimes just odd. I learned so many things about my family and just history in general that I almost always was excited to jump in the car and have an adventure.

And so I grew up appreciating the amazing things that one can find at an estate sale or antique store. I still go as a semi-independent young adult and just look at the past through a modern lens. I knew from a young age that music sounds way better on vinyl (still think so), furniture should be made of actual wood and built to last, and some of the best treasures are found when and where no one is looking.

This is my record player, I love it and have a wide variety of records to play on it. 

So... Now that you know way more about me than I thought I would ever share on my love of the past and its objects, I will move forward to the present. After I grew up roaming the past for objects that tell a story, I find myself still going on Saturday mornings just to see if anything has a story to tell. I often find myself walking around with people twice my age or more, and while this isn't as strange as it used to be (Thank you hipsters!) I still find the looks to be interesting. There is nothing inherently good, bad, or judgmental about a look in anyway. I can just always tell when I am getting a look that questions why "This young lady is walking around alone looking at things that were made well before her time."

I don't mind the look, I really don't. But just know that the next time you see me at a sale and look over with the look, I know you what you are thinking. And maybe next time you will engage in a conversation to see what I am on the hunt for that day, because you may just have the story that I am looking for. Either way, look out because if I am hunting for something I will find it, but don't you want to be in on that story? I know I would.

Remember age is just a number. My outside number is 26, but inside... well my friends tell me it's like 80, but however you look at me I am just looking for an adventure and a story. So stop and talk, I would love to hear your story too.

Katie


And yeah... I am rocking a sweet vintage dress with flowers and my aviators. I'm killing it too!

The MONSTER under your sink. By Suzy Ince

After working for an estate sale company for a few months, I knew I needed to change a few things about my life. I am not a de-clutter you life guru, or an organization aficionado, but I don't want anyone to delving under my sink either.

NOT my sink. This looks much better than mine.

It's an unspoken horror that we all live with. If it doesn't go on the counter, or into a drawer, it disappears under the sink, never to be seen again. I know you can't believe this, but I, myself, was guilty of this horrible act. Then, I had the honor of getting several bathrooms ready for an estate sale, two weeks in a row. Not only did I feel the need to rush home and shower with scalding hot water, I also thought I should probably make an appointment for a tetanus booster. 

So lets talk about,

The monster under the sink

It's scary and sometimes it's hairy, but it's not insurmountable. We all have one and acknowledging it is the first step to taming it. Possibly I'm not the only one with this problem so I'm baring my soul and letting you in on my dirty little secret and letting you know what I found in the darkness below.

My big monster under my sink, was the dreaded used Toothbrushes.

I was saving them for...I don't know, but I had seven of them. Why, Suzy, why? I guess I thought I'd use them to clean stuff. You know get the nitty gritty out of those oh, so hard places to reach. When I purchased a new one the old one went into a Solo cup under the sink, where they sat long enough for several layers of dust to encase them before I found them again. I put on my disposable gloves,(because honestly people, those gloves you keep and reuse are disgusting, git rid of them,) and threw them out.

For some reason I had a lot of loose cotton balls stuck to bottles of hair spray, contact lens solution bottles and of course the toothbrushes.

I've never even seen cotton balls like these, but they are pretty cool.

I can't even tell you how many of these there were or why they were even there. Probably from the bottles of aspirin that had piled up under there. Seems like just as you throw one cotton ball away two more pop up to take its place. It's a mystery that even the universe doesn't understand. They were gross and I threw them away.

Sorry I had to address this problem

We all have gross sponges  stacked somewhere in our house. There's no excuse. Clorox has disposable wipes that you use once and throw away. They are cheap and smell nice, every time you use them. Go, buy, enjoy!

Halloween make up

Okay, the drink was not under the sink, but it would have made the experience much more enjoyable and I won't say I didn't have a few after I'd finished. Let's face it I needed one or three afterwards. Beyond the sponges I found a ton of old Halloween make up. 

We are big into Halloween, (I'm on the left, hubby on the right.) so, I pitched the crusty stuff and kept the stuff that hadn't expired. But Suzy, you said to get rid of those monsters. I know, but I couldn't. Next Halloween I'll be glad I didn't. I did consolidate it all into one large freezer zip lock bag.

Yes, the dreaded Permanent rods

I had several boxes of Perm rods stacked up in the back of the cabinet, and my hair is pretty curly. Go figure. If you've ever had a perm you know them for what they truly are, torture implements. Why we can't just be happy with what we have, I'll never know. They like the Toothbrushes had become encrusted with dust. I donated these to the poor straight haired people of the world. May they forgive me.

I took my bags of trash to the dumpster and transported the small bag of donations the the Disabled American Vets, DAV, for short. And after a quick shopping trip I returned to deal with what remained.

No matter what state your monster is under that sink there is hope. Not all your stuff needs to be disposed of, and there are many different ways to cage the monster that remains. Here a few suggestions for the things you really need to keep. These are of varying price ranges and I'm sure you can find something that you can live with.

 Quick note. If you have an electrician on hand a neat trick is to wire some lights that will come on when you open the doors. If you don't have an electrician on hand there are lights that you press to activate, most have double stick tape on the back for easy mounting. Giving yourself some light will stop you from throwing that plastic bag or old make up under there.

But I digress. Here are some examples of a tamed monster.

A final thought.

People please, for God's sake, take a weekend, a week or a month and tame your monsters. There's no reason anything needs to stay there in the moist darkness under the sink. For all you know your junk spawned little monsters of its own and one day they will grow up to wonder what's out there past that little square door beyond the water trap. They may sneak out and set up residence in your closet and start a new colony. Stamp it out now before they take over the world. I promise you'll feel better and God forbid, if something happens to you, someone else won't have to visit the doctor for their booster shots.

Happy cleaning.