NYC Markets, episode 8. In which the Brooklyn Flea drives me (pea)nuts.

For the past few weeks I have enjoyed reminiscing and sharing with you my New York fleamarketing experiences and revisiting some of my faves.  We are coming up on the last NYC Market that I'm going to share and, while looking back, I came across another fave.  A favorite movie, a favorite movie location, a favorite fountain... all faves easily accessible via a long walk, a subway stop, or a (frighteningly) fast New York taxi when Washington Square Park by NYU is your destination.  It's where Sally dropped off Harry, not realizing he would never again be truly absent from her life.  Miles and many magical memories away, New York is likewise omnipresent.  Like I said, a fave.

There are, of course, too many faves to squeeze into one visit, but squeeze we do.  We recently added a new favorite, the Brooklyn Flea at Fort Greene, to our fleamarketing travel list after seeing it featured on HGTV's Flea Market Flip.  When we caught a glimpse of the Brooklyn Flea on the crafty competition show hosted by our favorite GMA personality, Lara Spencer, we knew we needed to check it out.

visit hgtv.com to view full episodes

Here we are, checking it out one fine Saturday.  There are several Brooklyn Flea locations, depending on the season, and we are selfying (run with it--you have my full permission) here in the school yard at the Fort Greene location (open April through November on Saturdays from 10:00 AM to 5:00 PM).  A very detailed and colorfully-engaging site will help you explore the markets, locations, and all the tempting tidbits you need to know to plan the ultimate flea experience.

brooklynflea.com

I want you to step back from your screen a moment, close your eyes, inhale a deep breath, and recall that feeling that overwhelms you when you step into a new-to-you fleamarket for the first time.  The scents:  smokey grilled meats and vegetables wafting on crisp spring air or moving towards you languidly on heavier summer breezes; herbal and floral wafts checking in as well from nearby vendors with fresh flowers and smooth homemade balms.  The sounds:  children laughing, tinkling ice cubes shaken about in soft styrofoam cups intermingling with fresh fruit and slurpy straws, adults exclaiming and exchanging greetings of surprise with long-lost friends, energetic voices both loud and indistinct attempting to bargain a new collectible into a waiting (hopefully recycled!) shopping bag.  Open your eyes and enjoy the colors and textures:  clothing of all shapes, hues, and eras; artwork, books, and furniture waiting to be re-displayed, re-read, and re-imagined; jewels glistening their best tempting brilliance in poetically personified attempts to avoid being boxed up at the end of the day.  These secondhand temptations want to travel (safely enrobed in you-know-what) with you and find a new life in a new (your) home!

Okay, romantic reverie and sausages savored, let's move on to the enjoyable business of the Brooklyn Flea, only a few subway stops from the City, depending on where you start, and only a five or ten minute walk depending on whether you take the C or the G (G will drop you less than 2 blocks away) train.  A school courtyard loaded with fleamarketably tempting goods and over a hundred energetic vendors await your capable or casual browse and your savviest or most lackadaisical bargaining overtures.

When I first began fleamarketing I was simply happy to find an item in good condition that appealed to me so I never questioned the price, just counted out the amount requested.  Years of casual shopping with my fabulously frugal partner and years of hosting clutter-cleansing yard sales and market booths together have taught me a thing or two about that ugly word, "haggling."  I prefer "making a deal" (with a special appreciation for the humor, patience, and charm of Monty Hall, one of my favorite childhood deal-makers) because it offers both buyer and seller equal footing in the process of negotiation.  Respecting the seller is number one, however.  Some vendors rely on weekend markets to make a living and even if vending once a week is a hobby, it is a time-consuming and demanding pastime.

I have previously offered this nugget of advice in my fleamarket travels (remember the Vienna nativity?!), but it is important to remember, especially when faced with so much temptation as offered at the Brooklyn Flea.

If you want it, BUY IT!

...especially if you suspect you will live a life less enjoyable without it.  Pass it up if it's too costly (money and available space are equally important considerations). Not sure?  Walk around the market.  Have a bratwurst.  If you have a fleamarket wingman with you, use him or her as a sounding board.  What are the pros and cons?  Do you have the space for it?  Do you have the cash (not credit card)?  Still in doubt?  Don't leave the market before going back to see said collectible that is driving you crazy one more time.  (Maybe stop and have a piece of artisan cheese to help you decide.)  If the treasure that caused you to gasp at first glance is still there sitting at the table (or IS the table itself) after all this time and internal debate (and calories), and if it still makes you gasp, then you have your answer.  Remember, you can always step back, enjoy (photograph) it one more time, then walk away.

I've both walked away and succumbed countless times over the many enjoyable years I've been fleamarketing the world with Mari.  We've also enjoyed sharing formerly collected items with new collectors when we host our own sales.  It's all a part of the collecting and recollecting catch-and-release process.

I haven't even begun to list the variety of items you can find at Fort Greene, but you probably get the idea (everything).  I can't comment on the turnover from week to week because this was our only visit thus far, but our sunny spring Saturday was sufficiently satisfying for us to want a return trip.  I confess I let out a little gasp when I first discovered the perfect-for-poker-night Mr. Peanut bowl set (large metal bowl and four smaller matching bowls) and didn't even have the will to bargain with the friendly young dealer who seemed to have priced his entire booth about 50% below the prevailing market rate.  Mr. Peanut makes me THAT happy.

I'm also gleefully posing with one of Mari's finds, a smoothly aged wooden display for miniatures (of which there are many strewn about our home) that has yet to gather our collected knickknacks, but lies in wait to organize and show off tiny treasured trinkets.

I will attempt to squeeze in one last New York fave (or two) next time.

NYC Markets, episode 7. In which we flea indoors.

Not sure if you have noticed, but aside from being a collector-traveler I'm a traveler-foodie.  I've also been a "foodie" fan (of the expression) since its early 80s coinage.  When I am planning travel and compiling lists of sights to see and markets to flea, there are invariably lists of restaurants to sample and dishes to eat. Sometimes a dining location will be new to us:  something I've read about in a magazine or on a blog, some fine dining establishment I've seen in film or on TV, or a cafe or restaurant featured on a TV travel or food program.



In the case of my absolute favorite restaurant (that's saying a lot, believe me) it was based on a personal (still friends!) recommendation.  I have recommended Carmine's to everyone I knew headed in that direction since our first visit to the family style restaurant's theater district location on West 44th Street; we have shared hearty meals and equally enjoyable reunions with family, friends, and former students; and now I wholeheartedly recommend it to you, dear reader.  

Visit carminesnyc.com

for a no-calorie teaser.

Mari and I always start with the house salad (perfectly simple vinaigrette) and a delightful dip into the best varietal bread basket anywhere (the focaccia with tomato is my favorite).  Mari and I alternate deciding on a pasta dish to share.  On this visit it was rigatoni with meatballs--next time it will be my (lasagna) turn.  Just strap on your pedometer and be prepared to walk it off afterwards.  Most of your calories will melt away while you are fleamarketing the next day.

Just know you will not leave hungry.  (Evidence, stage right.)  I intended to photograph before we had served ourselves off the family platter, but you know how that goes.  Got a little too excited for my own foodie good.

Our sunny street art friend here spotted us as we found our way to sample a new location featured in the American Airlines seat-back magazine, another great source for travel recommendations.  I hope Sunny is still shining his psychedelically splashy smile today.  Here we are below at the Clinton Street Baking Company (all day brunch!) in our pre-blueberry-pancake pose.  Worth a visit if you are in the area (on Clinton Street between East Houston and Stanton) and willing to wait an (unfathomable?) hour for a table.

Visit clintonstreetbaking.com

to be tantalizingly tempted!

While you are fleamarketing at the GreenFlea on Sunday there will be plenty of tasty temptations to keep you nourished and bargain-alert as you wend your way through the well-organized school playground containing the tented tables and treasures you seek.  Make a plan and stick to it so you don't miss anything you've been missing.

Don't miss the mini quiche!

One of our tried-and-true flea- marketing strategies is to cover every market methodically.  You know we ain't about haphazardly wandering around, right?!  There's (always) a plan.  We always pick a corner and head there first, even if a market entrance plunks us awkwardly down mid-market.  Keep your blinders on and head to that first corner.  Now at your starting point, traverse each aisle, looking in one direction only, not from side-to-side. This (almost) ensures you don't miss anything that's been waiting to speak to you and join your collections. We'll survey the stock up and down the same aisle, looking first in one direction, then back down the same aisle in the other direction, then make our way to the next aisle and so forth until we've reached the opposite market end, then scan the perimeter tables.  It's a whole (obsessive-compulsive) thing, I know, but that's the way I fleamarket and I have to do it the same way every time.  I know there's a word for that...

It's the RIGHT way.

That's what it is.

Mari the Psych teacher can perhaps offer you a few other more descriptive terms from a textbook (or from the DSM-5), but let's stick with "right" shall we?

Once you have completely canvassed the courtyard, you will enter the school building itself and find vendors (and restrooms!) in the first floor hallway leading down to the cafeteria which is also lined with vendor tables.  The treasures you will find in the cafe might be categorized by some as a bit more precious (expensive) than the outdoor variety, but most of these items truly are vintage, antique, and more delicate in nature.  You'll find expert dealers with showcases and tables carefully laid out with jewelry, purses, coins, watches, china, and clothing.  One dealer has some beautiful vintage eyeglass frames which I am constantly admiring and telling myself "next time, next time" upon each visit.  Mari was tempted recently by a couture reseller's vintage Chanel buttons (long since detached from their posh apparel) that had now been fashioned into jewelry.  Can't argue with couture recycling!

I realize I recently shared this almost-too-adorable photo of our pampered pet, but Mamita wanted me to point out that she is modeling one of Mari's favorite GreenFleamarketed purchases.
A colorful necklace of hand carved and painted wooden beads that magically leaped out of a seemingly haphazard assemblage of household goods for sale by an itinerant vendor a few visits back. The right place at the right time.

It has been my intention these past few secondhand visits to impress upon you the great variety of greatness to be regularly and consistently found at the Sunday GreenFlea.  And there is something different and differently great every time (although the quiche is great EVERY time).  If there is a leisurely Sunday in your future, if your weekend to do list has been productively and efficiently checked off by bedtime Saturday (congratulations!), if you deserve or need a restorative break, or if you want a great place to meet friends, family, or have a pretty cool slash memorable date, then the GreenFlea is the place to be.  I believe it to be a great place for inspiration as well!  If you are in a "mood" or in a funk that isn't sufficiently electronic or "Uptown," then a GreenFlea Sunday full of friendly faces and collectible reminders of past amusements will do the trick.  Whether you are going organic with the tented green market or recycling the past in its marvelously varied collectible and colorful forms, this unique New York fleamarket is a social Sunday shopping experience eagerly awaiting your hungry browse.

We train to the Brooklyn Flea and I go a little nuts next time.

NYC Markets, episode 6. In which the genie is uncorked.

The first item I ever purchased at an antique mall...

Wait!  That's a whole other (future) fleamarketing adventure and another state (Michigan, in case you must know).  And another century!  One of my intentions when starting this blog slash writing experiment was to share some of the cool-to-me pieces and collections that have found me over the years.  I have waded through so many pictures (there are painstakingly-edited and precision-soundtracked iMovie videos and iPhoto slideshows of every trip, too--but you could probably figure that out) in the past few months that I found it easy to narrate the events of our fleamarket travels without revealing too many of our marketed discoveries.  I pledge to put a show-and-tell end to that today.

For the moment, let's get back to one of my favorite fleamarkets in one of my favorite cities with my most favorite travel companion in the world.

Mari and I are at the GreenFlea, remember?   It's a sunny, crisp Sunday although sometimes it's a little cloudy, but lucky for us it has never rained on our New York outings (remember, we have those lucky travel umbrellas to stave off the rain).  Remember, too, we're in the middle of an amalgam here (lots of trips, lots of souvenirs, lots of bubble wrap).  Since our first visit to the GreenFlea many moons ago, Mari and I have made it a permanent fixture on our New York getaway weekend agenda.  When we are in New York on a Sunday, we are at the GreenFlea.  Period.

My name is Lou and I am an old bottle collector (add it to the embarrassingly long collections list).

For my fellow grammarians, it is the bottles that are old.

Not just any old bottle, but bottles and jars with character, with history, with a purpose (whether that purpose still exists or not in the 21st century).

Here are some of my treasures.

This is my first.  (Okay, I'm returning to Michigan for a paragraph.)  What was it that made me stop and begin one of my first collections?  It was the texture of the ribbed glass which I ran my fingers over when I picked it up from that crowded shelf in that crowded booth in that crowded antique mall just seven miles from my college apartment back across the Indiana state line.  It was also the three classic fonts (each unique, but still harmonious in trio) imprinted on that metal emerald green lid that had seen much better days, but which had obviously been worn down from its former immaculate majesty by a once needy hand and follow-up years of indifference.  Neglected no longer, my antique-mall-rescued treasure found a new home among my pedestrian, college budget shaving items.  While no longer preserving its intended contents, this ribbed jar remains actively alert, a reminder of past artful form, amidst high-tech herbaceous salves that make me somewhat presentable in a more "advanced" era.

Can you say as much about your 99-cent can of Barbasol?

I didn't realize I was an old soul until I made that first six-dollar purchase over 25 years ago.

(More on my favorite antique mall just south of downtown Niles, Michigan, another wistful day.)

Today we are at the GreenFlea and one of my favorite vendors has provided me with a few more timeless beauties as well as several special items for Mari's own collections.  Below are some of the pieces of Scott Jordan's "artifact art" that I have re-collected from the regular GreenFlea vendor over the years.  Visit Scott's website for more photos, his story and inspiration, and to purchase his enjoyable book, Past Objects.  I was thrilled to have him sign my own copy on a recent visit.

scottjordanartifactart.com

I confess, with evidence freely proffered, that I am not a professional photographer and I humbly thank Scott for the opportunity to purchase these treasures which he continues to rescue from various construction sites.  Each of the four bottles above is about two to three inches in height, for some perspective, and each now sits on glass shelves in the bath amidst those lotions and potions that keep me stylish (but not too stylish) and suitably groomed.

Here are two more of my cherished favorites.

Lefty is nearly five inches tall and I knew he was mine as soon as I saw him.  Scott was unsure of its original purpose, but it stood out to me among his collection one Sunday morning and practically pouched itself in my waiting bubble wrap.  Until recently, glass-bottle man spied out at me from among the salves, filled with fragrant lavender buds brought home from an afternoon shore excursion in Provence a few summers ago.

Somehow, I knew that ol' Lefty's bold glass countenance wasn't originally suited to lavender buds, but I didn't hear any complaints and an open bottle of fragrant anything made sense in a bathroom.  It was only recently that I learned of my fleamarketed treasure's own humbly fragrant beginnings.

At an antiques show in Harlingen, Texas, a few months ago, I came across the little fiery guy on the right (with flaming red lid intact!) who had been rescued from an unknown location in Michigan by a Chicago collector-dealer who had brought the former mustard jar on a 1,500 mile journey where its caustic countenance met my browsing gaze across a crowded convention center.  This roving dealer had also brought along lavender-bud-man's twin (with battered metal cap announcing his own spicy origins)!  It's fun and rare when that happens:  both seeing your own unique collectible in a completely new location and discovering what that collectible originally collected (hot dog "sauce" from the 1940s in this case).

Solving the Lefty-lavender-bud-glass-bottle-mustard-man jar mystery has led to a reunion of sorts with both fleamarketed-across-the-miles treasures now securely (and more suitably) entrenched among a kitchen cookbook collection.

Before we detour back to fleamarketing the GreenFlea, Mari wanted to share some of the treasures she has liberated from Scott Jordan's collections via his creative partner, Dolhathai, a Thai artist who fashions found finds into one-of-a-kind jewelry art.

A patinaed brass tag, a porcelain lion's head, and a smoothed glass fragment have been lovingly crafted into wearable reminders of treasures long lost, but not forgotten.

Visit Dolhathai's beautiful site

pastobjectsart.com

for her story and to

browse her collections.

It is found objects, compelling stories, and collector-artists such as these that keep me fervently fleamarketing and that have me returning to favorite vendors and fleas over and over. You don't need to be as passionate (obsessed?) as I may be over old bottles or (insert name of collection here), but once that first piece of whatever winks at you from that crowded shelf, overstuffed booth, or under-a-garage-sale-table-cardboard-box, you'll (hopefully and joyfully) feel and embrace that collector's urge that will drive your own travels.

More treasures, tales, and trinkets next time.

NYC Markets, episode 5. In which I, too, do not enter the museum.

I'm headed uptown to the GreenFlea, I promise! Just wanted to share another fun photo.  Mari snapped this during one of our favorite outings in Chinatown.  Start with a leisurely and delightfully overwhelming morning at Pearl River Mart (on Broadway between Broome & Grand).  This well-organized, colorfully-jubilant Chinese department store proudly offers quality, imported products for the home and is a mecca for lovers of all things Chinese, especially crafts and decorative goods.  

After a leisurely morning visit, you will need (crave) some nourishment and one of our absolute favorite craveable stops is Jing Fong, about a 10-minute stroll away at Canal & Elizabeth Streets (near the Manhattan Bridge ramp).  Bright and festive any time of the day, any day of the week, Jing Fong offers picture-perfect, flavorfully-fresh, authentic dim sum throughout the day.  (I have not yet been dared to sample the ever-exotic chicken feet!)

Both sites are beautifully

and thoroughly laid out.

pearlriver.com

jingfongny.com

Definitely one of my favorite itineraries for a Friday in New York.

Spending Sunday fleamarketing the GreenFlea in New York is one of life's greatest pleasures (in my humble opinion).  One of my favorite days was spent a few years ago on a wonderfully crisp, sunny Sunday.  Taking a little break from the flea, Mari and I sat on a bench in front of the American Museum of Natural History (across from the GreenFlea on Columbus Avenue at 77th) next to a fellow marketer who was sitting with her little dog and a shopping bag.
Mari and I broke into our just-purchased warm mini quiches (mushroom my favorite, vegetable hers) and sat watching people and enjoying the sun with our savories.

Striking up a conversation with our benchmate, we were mistaken for locals ourselves (one of the best compliments I've ever received!).

With apologies to Fitzgerald

and Nick Carraway, she had

casually conferred on us the freedom of the neighborhood.

As soon as you walk into the GreenFlea from the 77th Street entrance, you will see the quiche, and the olives, and the pickles, and everything else you want to snap up and pack up and bubble wrap and luggage-ship home with your weekend laundry.  Needless to say, we look forward to a quiche treat on Sunday mornings.  But let's begin at the beginning.

The GreenFlea is a great NYC fleamarket even without the "green" aspect.  What makes it green is fresh produce and all matter of fresh-baked goods, organic eggs, artisan cheese, robust jams and jelly, lush herbs, succulent plants and flowers, and hand-crafted soaps and silky lotions and fragrant potions.

These pedestrian acres of the GreenFlea are tent-spread across several blocks in front of the museum and are so very tempting and colorful and fragrant, it makes me long to live in New York once again, but also makes me appreciate our brief visits all the more.

Visit the comprehensive site

greenfleamarkets.com

for loads of information.

Once you make it past the edible temptations at what Mari and I fondly call the "quiche entrance," you will find one of the best and most varied selections of fleamarketable items we have ever seen.  There is furniture (you know how I long to snap up a piece of fleamarketed furniture!) in its natural, vintage condition, as well as vintage furniture that has been refurbished, repainted, or otherwise refreshed.  You will also find troves of once-treasured books and collected magazines waiting to fill a home library or decorating void in a new home.

Here, Mari is mesmerized (as usual) by rows and rows of overflowingly browsable containers that can barely contain their contained contents.  In addition to costume jewelry, there are hand-crafted jewelry items fashioned from cleverly recycled buttons and trinkets with past lives not yet complete.  Mari loves breathing life into old jewelry pieces herself, often transforming little baggies of fleamarketed baubles into majestically brilliant necklaces, earrings, and bracelets with new findings and clasps and her own unique brand of unbridled creativity that magically resuscitates long-forgotten objets d'art.

Sorry to gush.
I'm still crazy in love.

(with thanks to Beyonce and Jay Z for coining a great phrase)

It is wonderfully easy to pass an enjoyably carefree Sunday fleamarketing and savoring (and sampling!) the temptations of The GreenFlea (open from 10:00 AM to 5:30 PM every Sunday).  It is just as easy for me to continue listing everything you will find, but perhaps it's time for a little show-and-tell.  Some special-to-me GreenFleamarketed collectibles rescued via urban archaeology next time.

NYC Markets, episode 4. In which I yada yada.

I feel comfortably at home in New York City although I was born and raised in a small community 30 miles north, along the Hudson.  The proximity of the City and the relative ease of my 1970s-1980s (my younger and more vulnerable years) childhood perspective always made me comfortable with New York.  During the summer between 7th and 8th grade, I commuted alone for eight Wednesdays to the Evelyn Wood Speed-Reading course offered at a since-forgotten location on 5th Avenue.  Walking from and to Grand Central Station (one of the great "musts" for any traveler, especially fans of 1991's The Fisher King), this 12-year-old speedily-avid reader crammed as much of midtown Manhattan into his brain as possible.  As a married adult, I cram as many experiences and sights as possible into a three (sometimes a luxurious four!) day weekend getaway.

Instead of rushing off to our next flea, I thought I would take a step back and be a tourist for a little blog bit.  Hope you don't mind.

It all started while watching Seinfeld reruns one afternoon... Okay, maybe we've seen the 1995 Soup Nazi episode more than twice, but here is the alleged inspiration on West 55th (between Broadway & 8th)!  For serious Seinfeldians (and lovers of good soup) this is a must.  Lobster bisque and clam chowder for me. (Don't worry:  no-fear ordering.)

It's always fun (and relatively easy) to track down film and TV locations when you are in New York.  In fact, it has become an industry.  There are entire websites and tours devoted to such fantasy-meets-reality experiences, but it's perhaps a little more fun to stumble upon familiar scenes on your own.  (Without Kramer or a hearty helping of Beefarino, why bother with a guided tour anyway?)

Tea at The Plaza still remains unchecked near the top of our list, but dinner at the Russian Tea Room was expunged a few visits back--followed by the very touristy (and TOTALLY AWESOME) Radio City Christmas Spectacular which I had not seen since I was a kid.

Don't be intimidated about visiting famous locations.  Just make a reservation and/or buy tickets in advance if you can, but what makes great cities great is great people and great tourists so go where you want, see what you want, and eat what you want.

Don't forget

the souvenirs!

All of that said (and mentally filed away), you can't do everything in one visit and you can't do everything from your list every time you go to New York (believe me).

When we are not fleamarketing on Saturdays and Sundays from 9:00 AM to 6:00 PM, we are walking and people-watching and eating and shopping and musical/play-watching and photographing and (obviously) not spending much time at all in our hotel room.  As my wife learned a long time ago, my (compulsive?) travel lists mean taking advantage of every opportunity when we make the effort to travel, especially for such a limited time as a weekend.  You can rest when you get home--Mamita or (insert name of pet here) will have kept the mattress lofty and warm while you were away.

Of course, you can also enjoy an "event" trip and New York City is always bustling with events.  One of my favorite journeys was to the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade, a quintessentially New York event I had watched on TV every year just like millions of kids across America had, but like most of them, I never attended in person despite my physical proximity.  Call it a bucket list (detestable term) item if you will, but it was something I had always wanted to do.  With Mari's enthusiastic encouragement, we decided to go for it back in 2008.

Visit Macy's own site for

excellent planning information.

social.macys.com/parade

That's Snoopy (my favorite!) floating past my frozen head up there.  I loved that Thanksgiving, but...  You know I'm a planner, right?  Look at the evidence.
I packed a scarf and head wrap even though it was probably 80 degrees back at home.  I plan. Here's my best advice for anyone planning to visit New York for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade: get up early (I mean EARLY) and good luck.  Did I say get up early?

I love New Yorkers but tourists are a whole other species.

Just good luck, that's all.

We had planned on hoofing it up to Sylvia's in Harlem for a hearty Thanksgiving meal slash biscuit festival just as Santa made his parade-ending appearance on the upper West side about 11:00 AM, but we somehow got corralled into Central Park and ended up standing in a serpentine line outside Tavern on the Green (an oft-listed but not-yet-visited trip destination that has itself appeared as a movie locale numerous times) and figured, "Why not?"  A later, sensible inspection of our MasterCard bill just before Christmas provided a clear answer to that query, but no matter how you say it (even if you detest the term as much as I do), bucket list is bucket list is bucket list.  (Yada yada yada.)

There I am smiling at Mari and smiling back across the table at me is the amazing (and surprisingly still in love with me?) wife whose ever-trusting response to my constant queries of "Shall we visit such and such?" or "Should we put such and such on our list?" is always, "I'll go where you go; just tell me what to pack."
Go figure.  Beautifully bedecked for forthcoming holidays, the iconic restaurant and its stunning Central Park views were well (well, maybe not "well") worth the touristy Thanksgiving tumult (and superfluous surcharges).

There was even a surcharge for the view!

We enjoy an occasional dallying detour from our tried-and-true comfort zone, but always return to our listed (sensible?) favorites.  Next time, we spend a fleamarketably perfect New York Sunday exploring the indoor/outdoor GreenFlea.

NYC Markets, episode 3. In which I miss the Garage.

As it so often happens, Mari and I were watching TV one evening...

This time it was PBS that put a spring into our fleamarketing step with a sadly short-lived series called Market Warriors (20 episodes aired from 2012-2013) in which four "experts" competitively scavenged flea markets across the country for items to resell at auction.  A most endearingly familiar premise for fans of BBC's Bargain Hunt (one of our faves, with host David Dickinson), but nevertheless an entertaining hour for shopper-travelers like us who occasionally resell fleamarketed items ourselves at auction, fleamarkets, or the occasional we're-bursting-at-the-seams garage sale purge.  Market Warriors visited some of our favorite locales including First Monday Trade Days in Canton, Texas and the Antiques Garage in New York, and introduced us to still others such as the Randolph Street Antique Market in Chicago (a future episode, I promise) and the Rose Bowl Flea Market in Pasadena (an enormously-awesome and awesomely-enormous market experience that still looms large near the top of our list of markets to market).

all episodes are still watchable at

pbs.org/wgbh/market-warriors

Sadly, the Antiques Garage was closed as a fleamarketing venue last summer (shortly after our Easter weekend visit) and the edifice ultimately torn down (progress, I suppose), but this also led to an improved (progress!) Chelsea Flea Market as well as more dealers at the Hell's Kitchen Flea.  It also made it easier for us to fit two (instead of three) markets into a fun-filled Saturday fleamarket sandwich (with an actual Schnipper's sloppy joes sandwich between markets).

That's Mari inside the now defunct Garage--her smile stems partly from the sighting (and ultimate capture) of a honey-hued bakelite pin from a favorite dealer from whom I also liberated a tawny bakelite-handled pie server. Unfortunately, it's the only photo I have of the interior, but I have wonderful memories of (as well as a few souvenirs from) the amazing collections on display.

There are always

a few souvenirs.

One of my favorite vendors, upstairs, sold beautifully delicate one-of-a-kind Chinese collectibles and I have three hand-carved marble hand stamps and a snuff bottle (add snuff bottle collection to the growing list) purchased on various visits from the very knowledgeable and friendly proprietor.  I am hoping to find him again at the new Chelsea Market on our next return trip.

To the left is the original Chelsea Flea as it appeared during our last visit, but it has since been over- hauled (as a result of the closing of the Garage) and apparently now bulges with additional vendors and more antiques between 6th Avenue and Broadway at West 25th.  Like the Hell's Kitchen Market, Chelsea is open on Saturdays and Sundays, but there is now a $1 admission to help defray the cost of improvements.

I hope to present an update

as well as new photos

after a forthcoming fall visit.

Instead of exchanging cameras with fellow tourists (remember my rule about not giving your camera to anyone on their way to a pawn shop!) for this photo at Madison Square Park in front of the Flatiron Building, we were delighted to exchange cameras with long-time friends who drove up from Philly to spend this sunny spring Saturday fleamarketing with us.  The City is always a great place to meet new people, but even more fun to reconnect with good friends and other familiar favorites.

While I'm feeling wistful (and maybe a little peckish), allow me to put in a good word for a few foodie favorites while I have your attention.

We always look forward to sharing a tuna sandwich (on rye with tomatoes and crisp iceberg lettuce) and a side of fries at the Carnegie Deli.  The pleasantly piquant basket of pickles and cup of slaw are another reason we look forward to revisiting this New York "institution" despite it being an obvious temptation for tourists.  That reputation has been earnestly earned and that's why Carnegie remains permanently etched on our New York travel list along with a shared (to assuage the guilt and magically eliminate half the calories) slice of the 5th Avenue (candy bar) pie.  You'll need to share everything unless you are REALLY hungry, but be prepared for the three dollar sharing "surcharge" (also a New York institution).

If you have an odd number (referring to the number of people, not necessarily their personality) in your party, be prepared also to be joined by a (hopefully) friendly single stranger at the community tables (no seat is left empty in such a popular meeting/eating place).

visit carnegiedeli.com

for a careful examination of

the menu before your first visit

As a native New Yorker, I often feel it is my responsibility to introduce others to the pleasures, joys, and excitement of this bright bustling city (those include "the sights" as well as the bites).  Now that Mari feels at home in the City herself, she has had the opportunity to travel there twice (without me!) and introduce some of life's simple pleasures (smoky street hot dogs & crustily-toasty pretzels) to a couple of the gals and to her totally awesome sister (at right enjoying a simple pleasure with mustard).

More street smarts, tasty treats, (and perspicacious parentheticals) next time as we move uptown to the Sunday GreenFlea.

NYC Markets, episode 2. In which Lou and Mari walk to Hell's Kitchen to see a view.

When you're looking for a peaceful weekend getaway, surrounded by nature, one of the last places on your list is likely to be midtown Manhattan, but that's exactly where this calmly colorful oasis and tranquil respite from the City is located.  I won't tell you exactly where because New Yorkers guard their secrets most ardently, clandestine waterfalls in particular.

New York is a pedestrian's paradise which means you'll walk more than you ever do at home or during any other vacation, but you won't really notice it.  Walking 15 or 20 blocks from your hotel to Hell's Kitchen will seem like a quick jaunt as you take in all the people, the cars, the people, the skyscrapers, the people, the shops, the people, and... did I mention the people?  New York is also a people-watching paradise (careful not to ogle or let your eyes become otherwise googly), but beware to also watch where you're going, especially crossing at intersections.  Don't stop too long and look at the tulips, either, because you might forget where you were headed in the first place. Street-smart-traveler rule number one:  don't make eye contact when crossing a busy intersection.  Look down or look up (looking through people is a skill only for the select few) and you'll make it safely across the road with the other chickens.
You will bump into people otherwise.  Trust me (or try it out then trust me after you've ruffled a few feathers).

On Saturday mornings we cross quite a few blocks headed down to the Hell's Kitchen flea market, which is also open on Sundays, but we have a pre-planned (of course!) reason for going on Saturdays.  It's part of a carefully crafted fleamarketing weekend strategy that involves going to the GreenFlea on Sundays (because the GreenFlea is only open on Sundays).  Vendors are eager, well-informed, and prepared for fleamarketers when the market opens at 9:00 AM.  You won't catch anyone setting up last minute.

annexmarkets.com

has thorough info on both

Hell's Kitchen and Chelsea Fleas

This first photo is the view from just inside the 9th Avenue entry to the flea market.  The market stretches from 9th to 10th Avenues with tables set up mostly on both sides of 39th, some in the middle, and still others in a large empty courtyard near the entrance.

Vendors have a great variety of goods which vary often.  While we have never had the good fortune to fleamarket two weekends in a row, we do notice that many of the Hell's Kitchen flea vendors are active collectors and not simply reselling the same goods from week to week.

While we enjoy scanning the "merch" primarily, meeting new people and learning about collectibles is always part of the plan.  Positive people make for a positive experience and most of the vendors with whom we have had an opportunity to speak are knowledgeable about their collections and are more than willing to share that knowledge and the provenance of the items they are selling.


Fleamarketing rule number one is to steer clear of vendors who either don't know about their own goods, or who won't disclose information.  Anyone adamantly unwilling to negotiate also makes for an unpleasant experience, but never let a single singularly sour vendor ruin your fabulous fleamarket adventure.

Recent visits have yielded expansions to my vintage camera & razor collections as well as a nice old book (or two), and some odd pieces of china.  A vendor last spring was offering exhausted equipment and supplies from a local school and we picked up a couple of worn Erlenmeyer flasks which we've recycled into eccentrically cool bud vases.  Depending on the booth and the collector, you'll sometimes spend a quick dollar or two and other times find yourself immersed in a lengthy transaction with a collector who isn't as willing to part with his rare Kodak British-racing-green leather accordion camera as he should be.

Mari has a favorite jewelry vendor at this market (and every market across two continents?) who always has something new/old to fill a missing void in my wife's sparkly collections.  A thoughtful (trained?) husband will learn to scan rows of jewelry cases for just the right color/shape Italian micro mosaic inlay pin to temporarily contain in a bubble-wrap jewelry pouch as it follows its protected trajectory to deep South Texas where it will find a new home among previously collected paisans.  Sometimes a new design or an intriguing new collectible or craft will find its way into our life (and into an existing collection) like earrings or cuff links (have I mentioned my cuff link collection?) fashioned from defunct but artfully-crafted vintage wristwatch movements.

Were I a local resident, I would enjoy the opportunity to liberate a lamp, end table, or chair from another era, but, alas, even my suitcase-within-a-suitcase trick would not allow for such bulky emancipation.

If there were ever something

I really wanted,

I'm sure I would find a way.

You can easily pass an enjoyable three hours (right up until sloppy-lunch-joes time) fleamarketing Hell's Kitchen.  The vendors are informed and friendly, the goods are vintage and diverse, and the view...

The priceless view is well worth the (no) admission charge.

Only five cross-town blocks away (just about a barely-noticeable-walkable mile), the Empire State building proudly radiates its majestic central location to fleamarketers, travelers, and collector-photographers afar, all in search of that elusive yet ultimately discoverable and surprisingly easy to negotiate good deal.

A healthy jaunt down to Madison Square Park and the Chelsea Flea next time.