The Brimfield Antiques Show has been on my radar for a couple of years. I think I saw a special on the Travel Channel ages ago and thought it sounded right up my alley, then it started popping up on blogs I read and I was even more convinced, and when we moved to New York I started plotting to actually go, now that it was kinda sorta near, but something always came up on the weekends of the event. Until this weekend. Finally, finally. Brimfield!
I love this kind of antique shopping. When I go into an antiques store I always find myself nervous and wanting to leave. Nervous because inevitably I have a child with me who would rather dance and spin than remember to be careful and not touch and leave because I always feel like browsing for a long time wihtouth buying, or without buying something expensive, is frowned on. But when you have acres and acres of tables and bins and baskets and pile and too many fellow browsers for the stall holders to care much what you do (as long as you don't break thing, of course), well, that's a little heavenly. We wandered and wandered and wandered. We didnt' see everything, in fact, I wonder if we even got halfway. There is so much to see. SO MUCH. And also there was only so much walking we could coax out of the kids. But we got our fill. Not that I wouldn't like to go back. Now that I've been and I know what's there...
Endless cool things. And also strange things. One of a kind, one of a hundred to choose from. Briton kept asking "where do they get all this stuff" and I wonder myself. It's beyond a flea market or a antique warehouse. So beyond. So huge. So much fun.
We brought home a few little things. A set of silver bread knives, a few odds and ends, marbles and a pretty compact and a tiny measuring tape, hooks and hinges and a bottle opener, little things. I found a Catherineholm pot, I've been wanting one for so long. It was a hard choice between a tall yellow Dansk and a short, fat, patterned Catherineholm, but I haggled and got a good deal on the Catherineholm.
And then Will spotted a pile of old factory carts, just the size and style and heartiness (no worries that the kids will break this) that we have been wanting in a coffee table. It's in rough shape but the wheels are so cool and the sides are stamped with the factory name. So far we've only scraped and sanded the worst of the paint so we don't have lead paint flakes all over, but eventually it will get some more attention and be something a little prettier. If a factory cart can be pretty.