28 September 2008

flea markets: manhattan, queens

Union Square, Manhattan.

"Those are pins," a small boy explained.

"Ouch, I learned that the hard way. I wonder when the last time I had a tetanus shot was..."

The boy chuckled a bit, and pressed his teeth onto an earring, "These pearls are fake. Four dollars."

A woman adjacent to him raised a brow, she briefly considered, then declined.




"Do you want to go on a mission?" suggested Julia.

"Of course."

"We're going to Elmhurst."

"I'm afraid to ask where that is."


"QUEENS".


Young Asian in girls in quasi trendy boots, flea markets in old Roman Catholic churches, and Italian-American social centers: we negotiated for twenty-plus year-old bobbles with Russian, Chinese and Italian immigrants.
Julia selected a pair of gold cuff-links, an Egyptian inspired plated gold necklace and a distressed white leather clutch with gold trim. While rifling through belts, I selected a red leather one, "How much?"

The woman paused, "One dollar."

I pulled a twenty from my satchel.

She shook her head at me, "Rich girl, you don't have anything smaller? Spare change?"

I rifled through my things, extracting some quarters.

"Ah, pretty girl, are you a model?"

I shook my head and dropped the coins in her hand. Her voice drifted about me as I walked away-

Turning to Julia, "Refreshing to be called 'rich girl,' when you pull out a Jackson, no?"


Energized by our lovely finds at the Italian Charities of America Center, we opted to head out to Jamaica for another market featured in New York magazine. A word to the wise (and unadventurous) the market at Parsons and Union Pike is quite a hike from the subway and is canceled when it rains. We learned this the hard way. Let's just say we earned our sangria and tapas at Boqueria.

It wasn't a complete loss, we did come across a boutique flea market at an Italian Senior Center on Parsons street where I snagged an absolutely delightful dove gray pocket book. Julia had her eye on a hand embroidered pillow that caused quite a stir amongst the elderly women with scarves on their heads, and black dresses squeezing their curves, as they bickered in Italian.

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