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Queen of the Fleas: How to Buy Beautiful Old Things

Flea markets are one step up from the street, but only one very small step. In Europe they’ve always been the back door of history. I remember a story (probably fictional) that claimed Marie Antoinette’s coronation gown had shown up after the revolution at a marché au puces in Paris, somewhat worse for wear after being darned and worn ragged by a common farmer’s wife. Even as a fabulous lie, this is the heart-stopping promise of a great market: that we’ll find diamonds in the dust or a YSL smoking jacket for forty bucks. This said, flea markets always have a whiff of death in the air. And it can make tidy types a bit squeamish. Everyone has their personal boundary for old things. Some people shudder at the idea of slipping on a musty old mink coat or a pair of secondhand mules, yet would readily plonk their heads on a starched nineteenth-century pillowcase. Your idea of trash, or treasure, is best revealed by where your superstitions dwell. I cannot live with old photographs, leather chairs, or vintage fur of any kind, but I’ll wear a dead man’s tuxedo and top hat to dinner the same night without flinching.

The beauty of a flea market is that it is purely creative foraging. You’ll never leave with what you came for. You have to imagine an old voile dress or a rattan sofa reborn because the reassuring trappings of an antique shop are not there to back up the investment. After over three decades of traipsing through the fleas from Arezzo to Paris to Fort Greene, Brooklyn, I have conjured some basic rules of thumb, both for finding treasures and paying a price that befits your intrepid quest.

How to Be Queen of the Fleas

CLOTHES

No matter how musty a piece of clothing looks, it’s critical to try it on before buying and treat it just as harshly as you would a brand-new item, turning in front of the mirror, analyzing the cut, the seams, the general condition.

I find the best buys in vintage clothing at flea markets are coats (as they were often treasured by their owners), evening dresses (as they were rarely worn), and separates such a skirts, jackets, and blouses (as you can blend them into a modern wardrobe without looking too costumed).

Old shoes (older than the 1980s) tend to be very narrow and can get too stiff with age to wear comfortably. And the same goes for belts and bags. Usually I’ll pay a little more at a stall that has a good edit (studied selection) and features items that actually look good together.

The most critical reason for buying a vintage piece is the knowledge that you will actually wear it. If not, an old dress or a kimono or a pair of opera gloves return to the realm of décor and you’ll only ever hang them on the wall.

OBJET

Taxidermy. Bell jars. Science beakers. Hunks of crystal. North African silver crosses and carved Chinese opera masks. None of this stuff is essential but most can be had for a song because it falls into the eternal category of “weird shit we love.” The French call these ineffable covetable things objets trouvés. I put these temptations far down the list of things to buy because I cannot wear them, eat off them, or sit on them. In terms of money a thing is rarely a bargain unless it means a great deal to you. Often a seductive oddity looks fabulous in the context of a well-presented market stand and then you get it home and it looks simply … odd.

FURNITURE

Decorating with flea market finds is a spontaneous joy, but you still want to invest in something that fits and functions in your pad. Carry a tape measure, a photo of the room you want to decorate, and some references (including textures, fabrics, and a color palette) if you need them. Large furniture such as four-poster beds, credenzas, and couches are actually really good buys at markets because the dealer wants to move the large stock. Other total bargains are frames and lighting. But do check the solidity of plaster frames (they get porous and crumbly with age) and the strength and wiring of a lamp.

ART

While it’s a bit unlikely you will find a genuine masterpiece in a flea market, you might very well find a modernist lithograph by a known artist (midcentury art magazines often featured these), an excellent quality nineteenth-century etching by an anonymous but gifted draftsman, or a hand-tinted engraved illustration plate from an old botanical or fashion magazine or book that is being sold by the page. Primitive or outsider art and plain kitsch paintings have become fashionable as décor lately. Over time you can easily build a themed collection of such whacky works (birds, clowns, vintage art)—and they look witty and warm on the wall. Limit your spend to under three hundred dollars as, these days, a lot of pretty excellent contemporary art by younger artists can be had on the Internet and at independent art fairs for competitive prices.

JEWELS

Costume jewelry is well documented for value on the Internet and in specialist books, and dealers usually know their stuff very well. If a dealer wants a hefty price for a known designer, demand to see the insignia or stamp on the piece. Matching sets of brooch, necklace, and bracelet (known as parures) add a shocking punch of glamour to a plain black dress and I think, season after season, have been staging a serious comeback. Time was when every woman, of every class, wore a hunk of glittering bangles or a big fat pair of clip-on earrings and, hence, good costume jewels are still plentiful. But often they are not cheap. Buy for love, then for pedigree. Plastic pearls cost almost nothing and go with almost everything. Collect them in different sizes, strand lengths, and tones (from pale white to yellowed sepia). I feel the slightly golden-looking vintage pearls have a real glow and patina of chic to them.

BARGAINING AND TIMING

The agony of the fleas is that the best deals come at two very different times. Early birds have the biggest choice, and this is when you see dealers, stylists, and style scouts for big designers swarming the stands. But the best prices also come just as dealers are packing up and they are exasperated and looking to make a few dollars more. My law for getting the best deal is based on love. If you really, really adore something, buy it on the spot and don’t dawdle. Usually an object of quality will go fast, and this is doubly true of vintage clothes that reflect this season’s trends (even in a subtle way).

Bargain with good sense. Usually I bring the price down to a round figure and use the physical act of wagging a fresh note (or notes) around to tempt the dealer. For example, if the price tag is twenty-five dollars and I am wafting a twenty through the air, chances are that the deal’s sealed. As in any shopping trip, I set a cash budget and then circle the entire market before spending a dime. Often in that preliminary trawl I might lose a thing or two to someone faster (or richer!), but if the shopping is done with purpose (concentrating on décor or fashion or crockery alone), I’ll make a satisfying haul.

P.S. With regard to bargaining: a dealer is often self-employed, paying a fee to rent their stall, and not making a huge profit margin. Accept that a flea market find is about fifty-percent cheaper than something bought in a store—and haggle but don’t make the conquest of a bargain the whole point. The value of a flea market find dwells in its rarity as much as the price.