Flea market is an enterprise in creativity. I believe it exists as a reminder of what an amazing amount of junk we possess. It encourages you to hoard.
However, despite this know-how, if you haven’t given this a try – do. It will change your perception of bargain hunting and cure you of many shopping-related maladies – read Oniomania or Compulsive Buying Disorder – at a very small price. It will also make you a flea-market maven, among other things.
I prefer flea markets over antique stores because of an experience at one that set me back few hundred Liras for a cezve (ibrik) from Ottoman era in Istanbul’s Cukurcuma area. I must have been taken in by the dealer’s tendency to take his hat to every object I admired for it appeared that everything in the store was connected to the Ottomans. This information did spark my interest and sort of bridged my connection with my ancestors but the memory of being swindled still rankles.
Now I rely on flea markets. If I have to be conned, I’d much rather it be for a few dollars. I can cry once and move on.
The soothing sounds of bargain
The sound of a bargain is especially endearing, like “everything for two dirhams,” or “five books for ten,” because it tricks my mind into forgetting I have three copies of the book in question. The outcome of my flea market visits can be seen in my constantly shrinking storage room.
But you will agree that in flea markets you buy individuality. It is another thing that in Dubai that ‘individuality’ is shared by a thousand others who shop at the same store. That is why Dubai flea markets are fun. It also rings in a sense of familiarity and is an assurance of fine taste.
Now that the weather is changing, it’s time for the flea market season and I am looking forward to acquiring DIY letter boxes, street signs, terra cotta sculptures and a dartboard.
Exciting times.
Best buys I regret
You know when you cannot stop shopping? That is when I buy things I don’t need. Like that bar-cart (so perfect for entertaining in an apartment, right? Cheeses on top and chilled beverage at the bottom) and an antique painting with fancy European-style castle on an outcrop with sailboats in the distance.
Irresistible.
Until I saw it in a market in Dubai, I didn’t even know I wanted it. It was selling for AED60 making it impossible to walk away from a deal like that for something I realized I couldn’t live without.
I even love going to flea markets when traveling, because there is that off-chance of seeing the stuff of other cultures with historical content. The “historical” reference has a nice ring to it too, but the reality is that I love markets because I also like stuff not always screaming history – like a snow ball here and a porcelain pitcher there which fits into my backpack.
But I once lost my head in Vienna and secured a classic vintage chair of blue and gold for forty euro. This chair had a remarkable resemblance to one belonging Empress Sisi. I reveled in my bargaining skills for a full two hours, smiling all the while before the more practical issues dawned. I promptly headed to the shipping office to conduct business. In no uncertain terms I was told that shipping a chair would cost me Euro 200 (and a month or two by sea or double that cost by air). A fine dilemma.
But over a flea-market slip-up, you only cry once and set about correcting the situation. I tried selling them the vintage chair instead. Sadly, they had six of similar make. They assured me that “antique chairs are mass produced in the countryside near Salzburg.”
So, no thank you.
The flea market, you see, is the breeding ground of entrepreneurial spirit – take that man who sold me a chair, for example. I swore never to visit a flea market in Salzburg.
That’s the thing about books…
I have a weakness for books, particularly crime, legal, action and political thrillers. My biggest fear is losing a book from my collection, so I buy multiple copies of the same to safeguard myself against pilfering or book-drought. For this reason alone, I have two complete collection of Agatha Christie, John Grisham, Jeffrey Archer, Ken Follet, Mary Higgins Clark and Ruth Rendall, the source of which can be traced to various flea markets.
My heart races at the sight of coffee mugs and soup bowls too because they trigger memories which are special, but I admit I can’t remember what. Coffee mugs make me emotional and thus conversational and I find myself imagining spending cold winter with it.
I believe that certain objects not only spark emotions, but also open up new worlds, sometimes imaginary – of a happy past or a hopeful future, like the buying of that bar-cart. The fact that objects from the past have a story and lived many lives makes it intriguing. I love dreaming how it was used and I love the idea of giving that same object a new avatar.
And if it stirs my emotions, I believe I have made a good purchase.
I can’t explain the soup bowls though. I’ll put it down to CBD.
Truth is, every trip to a flea market is a sentimental journey. I love discovering objects like those that had a mention in a favourite book or items that remind me of my favourite dog Simba.
One thing I like to do before I leave the flea market, is one final spin around, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything.
American author Mitch Albom said – “nothing haunts us like the things we didn’t buy.”
I am glad I bought a chair I never sat on because it taught me lesson and that is pretty priceless.
Flea markets and its universal appeal
Flea markets have a long and interesting history and I seek comfort in the knowledge that bargain hunters existed before I was born. The French got there first, around 1860 and even gave a name for it. They probably didn’t mean it kindly when they called it marché aux puces – a literal description of the open market that sold flea-infested goods, but what’s in a name?
There are too many empty walls and shelves to fill. And too many future events to dream of.
And no one ever complained about an extra colander or candle holder.
