Chicago-Indiana-Michigan, episode 3. In which Mari shares some favorites.

After my great southern migration to deep South Texas in August 1989 and four subsequent summer sessions of graduate school back on campus, there wasn't another Midwest visit for nearly a decade.
As you might guess, a lot can and does change in a decade (just look in my mirror if you don't believe me).  A few of our favorites were gone without a trace when Mari and I returned to South Bend in August 2011.  Fortunately, Barnaby's was still around.

barnabys-pizza.com

It's comforting to return to a favorite location after a long absence to find some things haven't changed and Barnaby's was still able to support my need to be welcomed by hearty comfort food.  Along with its well-worn wooden tables and chairs, the always comfortably casual atmosphere wears a rich patina of Midwest friendliness as well.  It was a favorite place when Mari and I "dated" (in intentional quotes because we never really dated) and is on our travel list when we now visit.  Sadly, the romantic Italian restaurant (including poetically perfect table in front of the fireplace) we enjoyed on Valentine's Day 1989 (the night of my surprise proposal) is no longer there, among other lost favorites, but we do nothing if not roll with the times and look for new old favorites at every travel opportunity.  Besides, even without golden Mojo potatoes from Shakey's, a very cherry shake from Bob's Big Boy, or a super stuffed pizza from the Rathskeller, we will always have Picker's.

Collectors and casual shoppers alike will find everything at Picker's from old Avon pressed glass vases to slightly used slide-rules (and everything in between like what Mari has displayed below).  There are seemingly endless small, easily bubble-wrapable and packable collectibles from across the decades, great vintage jewelry and books, even a wide variety of furniture including desks, dining tables, and always a few lovingly crafted and gently used Hoosiers (tall kitchen cabinets with built-in flour bin and pull-out metal counter for kneading).  My mom was a baker and I am a baker with wonderful childhood kitchen memories and a passion for putting things in their place.  The Hoosier was invented for someone like me!  To this day the best I can do is admire, sigh, and walk away, but one of these days...

view a wonderful online exhibit of original Hoosiers at

amishacres.com/history/cabinet_collection.php

When I first shared Picker's Paradise with Mari she was probably as overwhelmed as I was on that first impromptu visit, but equally excited, too.  It's challenging to know where to begin in such a huge place, but we try to follow our general fleamarketing plan as much as possible and a temptingly titan antique mall is no exception.  We like to make our way to a corner and start methodically (there's always a method to everything wonderful).  In the case of Picker's, which is organized into booths (each with a different consignor), we will peruse one booth at a time then move methodically on to the next, going up one side of the aisle until we reach the end, then doubling back and perusing the opposite side of the aisle.  You can also walk the mall, staying on the central path and browse from side to side, if you are limited for time, but that's no fun.  Besides, you will probably miss that can't miss collectible playing hide-and-seek with your collector's eye in a booth corner or sitting whimsically on a shelf inside my future Hoosier cabinet.  It will still take you a good hour to get through every corridor, just looking from side to side, but that's still no fun.
More fun to stay home and read a good (collectible) book for an hour than to rush through Paradise.

When I asked Mari a few days ago to think about some of her prized Picker's picks, she took a deep breath and sighed (not always a good sign when I ask her a question) because that was kind of a loaded question.  As she pointed out, there are many picked at Picker's items currently in our home (museum) and some that have been passed on to other local collectors (including a beautiful leather-topped kidney-shaped lady's writing desk that was picked by a very excited young couple new to our neighborhood when we sadly just couldn't make it work in our home any longer).  Like her sentimental old husband, though, Mari has some treasured favorites and she's willing to share.

Above right is Mari's very first 
head vase.  She wasn't looking for a head vase nor was she looking to start a collection, but she found one and she did and she didn't even know these little ladies were collectible.  At the time (late 80s) we didn't realize these former florists' freebies from the 1940s and 1950s would become as highly collectible and as eventually difficult to find as they have become.  Like any discriminating collector, Mari is very particular about the 4-5" tall ladies she allows onto her two small shiny white shelves (perhaps she will allow the entire collection to make an appearance here some day).

I also managed to isolate one of Mari's first brooches collected from Picker's Paradise.  This jeweled Maltese cross was one of the first items that met Mari's gaze after I introduced her to the pleasures of a luxuriously leisurely afternoon at Picker's (a great place for a date--especially if you're not really dating!). I always find it amusing to reflect on how a single 2" diameter bauble will catch a collector's eye amidst the nearly infinite variety and number of items at such a gargantuan antique mall.  But caught it did and now it hangs at the bustling bright and twinkling center of Mari's brooch display.  It's one of my favorites, too, partly because, like me, it is one of the oldest pieces in my wife's collection, but also because of the majestically royal countenance of the jewel-toned jewels set symmetrically amongst the elaborately looped whorls of delicately-fashioned metal.

We linger lovingly at another Niles treasure trove next time.