Vending "Machines"

Having a flea market booth is a way to justify my ever-changing collections, decor style, or whatever "phase" I may be going through at any given time.  My current rule is if I bring something new into the house, I need to take something out.  So far it seems to be working fairly well!

I have noticed that every vendor whether at a high-end antiques mall or at your average flea market have one thing in common - we are all different!  We use different methods of tagging, arranging, record keeping, and even shopping for inventory!

Since I began working full time at Picker's Paradise Flea Market I notice everything that goes in and out which has been somewhat of an eye-opener.  I am amazed that just because I think something is "super cute" that not everyone thinks that as well!  I guess that means not only are vendors different but the buyers are also different from one another.

The following is a photo of my booth.  I love shabby chic, rustic, chippy paint on old primitive furniture and wouldn't know what to do with a piece of fine European antique furniture, but I have had customers today that were looking for iron skillets, green depression glass, vegetable cookie jars, and vintage model cars.

I love hearing stories from other vendors that seem to be vending "machines", going from auction to auction and from yard sale to estate sale.  I have a friend who's van is full at all times and when he heard there was a cancellation at a local antique show at the last minute he registered for a booth and like a herd of clowns coming from a compact car (which terrifies me) he had a booth full of merchandise ready to go!  I am apparently NOT a vending "machine" if you go by those standards.  Some people could sell salt to a slug, to borrow a phrase from another vendor friend of mine (Hey Berni!).  I am more of the "sell a basket to an apple picker" type.  

My husband and I went on a weekend trip for our 24th anniversary and between walking downtown, eating, driving, and  - did I mention eating - we found time to stop at a couple of yard sales and several flea markets.  This is what the back of my SUV looked like (excuse the blurry photo) from the front seat.

On the way home, my husband quietly asked me where did I suppose we would put our daughter, who we had to retrieve before going back to the house.  In my excitement of finding bargains I had forgotten about having to pick her up!  Fortunately, I am a very good "packer of the goods".  So, after hearing my dear husband voice his doubts, shifting a few things and containing small pieces of junk inside larger pieces of junk, I made room for our dear daughter.  Every time he says that, I just tell him - "you don't know who you are dealing with.  I am a machine!"