Hippy Chic and Naked Mannequins

The first local antique market of the season opened up today.

Considering the long, cold winter and

long, cold spring we've had here in Michigan,

I vowed that I was NOT going to go if it was cold....or rainy....or snowing for that matter.
No way, Jose.

The day dawned cold.

Like 40 degrees.

But it wasn't raining...or snowing.

So after rolling out of bed at 6am, 

I pulled on jeans, tee, heavy wool winter sweater,

woolly socks and tall boots,

grabbed a cup of hot, sweet coffee and headed out the door into the dark morning ~

leaving the Mister all snuggled up in bed with Maizie.

A half hour later after I pulled into a parking spot in the field and started walking toward the market,

it started to rain.
Not much, but enough to be irritating and turn a good hair day into a very bad one.

Oh....and did I mention it was blowing?
Really blowing.

Like blowing hard enough to flip my umbrella

(which had been tucked into my purse as an afterthought)

inside out?

Yeah.

It was blowing hard...and raining.

NIIIICE.

And the Mister was back home all cuddled in a nice warm bed...

You could have heard my moan of despair all the way to Wisconsin, I think.

So, there I was...battling not only my bad hair whipping around my head like a wild banshee,

but standing in the rain in midst of a wet, windblown crowd shaking my umbrella like a crazy woman trying to get it right side out again.

What FUN.

But...being the die hard shopper my momma brought me up to be,

I forged ahead with my shopping radar tuned on high.

The rain did stop after a while,
(thank you, Lord!)

but the winds screamed around the booths threatening to pick up the canopies
and swirl them away like Mary Poppins.
I really think I saw a cow blow by me at one point...
(or maybe it was one of those large metal sheep that one guy makes?).

I made my way past women wrapped tightly in a colorful quilts over their winter coats and hats,

and men with pink blankets around their shivering shoulders

attempting to stay warm however they could.
(Real men DO wear pink blankets, you know.)

I stared in disbelief at a crazy man in shorts (shorts....really?)

 taking photos of a bare naked mannequin

in all her cold, busty glory.
(Oh, I can just imagine the story HE was going to share with his buddies over Friday night beers.)

I sauntered slowly past the food trailers inhaling the spicy aroma of fried onions and sausages,

my stomach growling in dismay.
There was no way I was going to spend my money on food.
(Get over it, Stomach.)

My first purchase, appropriately enough,

was a queen quilt and sham set.

In perfect condition and softly worn.

 I hugged it to my chest 

and seriously considered becoming a blanket mummy like everyone else.
But at least the front of me was warm.

I continued walking...

a stuffed squirrel and deer antlers,

huge wooden vintage market signs,

wicker furniture galore,

rusty hinges and antique glassware,

painted and distressed cabinets and tables,

and garden trinkets

lined the aisles.

 Escaping the howling wind for a while, I ducked inside one of the buildings,

walking past walls of paintings, mounds of jewelry, and a pile of rugs.

A pile of rugs???
Whoa.

I stopped dead in my tracks when my eyes landed on this beauty

half falling off of a table.

It was small.  Only a 2'x3', but so beautifully worn with it's faded blues and pale pinks.
I knew instantly that it would make a beautiful pillow cover.
(Do they even make strong enough sewing machine needles to do that...?)

I also nabbed this rug off the same table for our kitchen ~

also wonderfully worn and threadbare in spots.

At a nearby booth manned by a cool, chic, hippy gal with carrot colored hair,

I spied this knife set, complete with cheese knife and cake slicer.

It was love at first sight when I touched those handles.

Beautiful, shabby chic, porcelain...

made in England nonetheless.

Hippy Chic gave me a great deal on them.
I could have hugged her!

I happily stuffed them in my bag.

I wandered through the throngs of half frozen blanketed people

(who were all mumbling about the miserable weather),

and almost stumbled over this sweet blue bench

sitting in the middle of the aisle.

All by itself.

It was destiny.

I picked it up and turned to find the booth owner

who seemingly appeared out of nowhere ~

which can be quite unnerving when shopping with an iced brain and contact lenses full of blowing dirt.

The tag on it said $15.

After squinting my eyes and asking my usual.... 
"Can you do any better on the price...?",

he replied, 
"How about $5?"

I think I shoved my $5 dollar bill down his shirt in utter joy

and danced away singing the "Hallelujah Chorus".

Yes, I was the crazy, wild haired banshee woman you saw singing her way down the windy road.

Three hours later,

I still couldn't feel my fingers or my nose, and I was ready to hit the road.
I was ready to leave the land of the frozen Blanket Mummies behind.

My sofa, cozy new quilt, and nice warm house were calling me.

So, I started back to the field where my SUV was parked.

Until.....

until....

until....

my radar zeroed in on THIS little treasure.

Oh. My. Gosh.

My feet were planted squarely in front of her.
I wasn't moving for anybody.
She was mine.

I swooned over the thin, worn, rose patterned fabric on her.

I loved her pink chippy legs.

I adored the way someone had tried to lovingly hand stitch the vintage fabric back together,
patching the holes with muslin.

I stared.
Mesmerized.
In love.

I touched the stitches and ran my hand over the thin, lineny fabric.
There was definitely horse hair under there,
which in my mind, made this little beauty quite old ~
and I loved the thought of having a little horse hair in the house.
(Strange, but true.)

But.....where to put her??
What room?
What corner?
What place....?
There had to be SOMEPLACE for her to fit in my house.

"That fabric is very vintage and very rare.
I can't remember the name of it, but Google it and you'll see.
Oh....and I can do better on the price, you know."

I looked up to see Cool Hippy Chic smiling in front of me.

"How much better....?", I tentatively asked,
not taking my eyes off of her
{the bench, not the Chic}.
The price had originally been $48,
cut to $35.

"Oh.....how does $20 sound?"

For 20 bucks, I'd wear her around my neck if I had to
{the bench, not the Chic}.

I quickly paid Hippy Chic before she changed her mind and went on my merry way.

And wouldn't you know it,
by the time I got home....
the sun was shining.

Go figure.

So, Rare Vintage Rose Bench is now happily living in our vintage farmhouse,
(which room however, remains to be seen)
and I'll be looking for more of Cool Hippy Chic's wonderful treasures next month.

Now...where to put her......?
{the bench, not the Chic}

Thus ends the first seasonal installment of "Blanket Mummies of Allegan".
Stay tuned for next month when I may bring you
"Drowned Banshee Rats Raid Allegan"
or maybe even
"Sweaty Banshee Poses With Naked Mannequins in Allegan".

In Michigan,
 you never can tell.


~  Eucharisteo  ~

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