Antique Critique

Per usual, my original plans of extensive thrift shopping last weekend did not come to full fruition--at least not as expected. The rain and a late Friday night had me feeling far too cozy to venture outside of Astoria. Luckily, I did make it out of my apartment for a brief stint to check out Mariola's thrift shop on Crescent Street, right off of 30th ave. I pass by every time I walk to Astoria Park, and am always attracted by the fringe of white Christmas lights on the awning, the dazzling pendants, and the ominous lamp shades displayed in the window.

Mariola's on Crescent Street.

It was an odd setting to walk into at first. There were a number of women in the very narrow front of the shop, one shining jewelry set in a glass case, the other two talking extensively in Spanish. A shortish man, clad totally in white--white pants, white tee-shirt, even a white hat--and black shoes walked up from the basement, smoking a cigarette and nearly knocking me over. The top of his ears were covered with a fine white powder. (Even with extensive googling I cannot figure out why this would be, the only plausible explanation is that he was an actor coming out of costume.) He was abrupt and talked loudly in Spanish and when another customer mentioned what nice things he had, he hastily answered, I don't know, my sister, she knows, with a Napoleonic march out the door.

One of the things that I have come to both love and sometimes hate about Astoria is this type of reality. I would not exactly call it rude overall, although there is plenty of rudeness going on in all the boroughs, but it's a lack of forced decorum, and dependent on my mood I often find it refreshing. I was reading a review of Mariola's, in which it received only one star based on the rudeness of the owners and a lack of clarity in pricing. Now if you're getting ripped off, understandable. But since I wasn't trying to negotiate any major pieces (nor would I even know how to negotiate any major pieces) and my interests were only in some weird-looking pendants, I was fine walking in on a seemingly passionate conversation (for some reason, all languages other than English seem so vibrant and dramatic to me) and being left to myself until I exerted some interest in the store merchandise. At that point, a tiny and quaintly sexy Spanish woman (possibly Mariola?) started telling me in a heavy accent the history of how she came across certain pieces of jewelry, what era they were from, how she inhereted part of her jewelry collection from and old man in Greece who had recently passed away. She pulled certain chains from the rack where they hung and delicately displayed them in her palm. She told me she had very, very nice things.

In terms of the store itself, it wasn't just second hand junk thrown into piles. There may have been a bit of that going on, but it definitely felt more "antique" than "thrift," enough so that I lingered nearly an hour with a slight hangover. I have a particular penchant for old things and am on a continual quest for objects that tell stories, whether it be filling my pockets with stones, scouring beaches for odd shells, or collecting antique photographs for their formality and eerieness. Here are a few from my small collection, below:

Slightly frightening. Children's very adult like faces from this period always fascinate me.

You may not find anything worthy of invoking the sublime; you may only stumble upon a tiny treasure-for-a-day, but I think many curious people at least enter antique stores under the same type of spell, looking for history and a story--at least that may be the appeal on the most basic level. Anyway, scoping out Mariola's was like walking through an attic, a cozy attic where as I kid I could have played all day and night, with chests and mirrors and hats and clocks. Oh, and German beer mugs.

Overall, my purchases were minor and old costume jewelry doesn't put much of a dent in one's wallet, but I can see how it may get a bit expensive. There are no prices on anything, which makes me a little wary, and when I went back with Colin, who hit up the antique books, the prices were high, although I am not sure what an 1877 book of fairy tales goes for these days. The two stores sell mostly house items and jewelry, with a variety of necklaces hanging in the smaller store. The shop next door, closer to 30th avenue, features much of the housewares and includes cases full of broaches, tea pots, figurines, and other oddities and collectables. There is a small selection of clothing, and I noticed some pretty cool hats, but in terms of forming a wardrobe, I think a trip to Beacon's is still in order.

Anyway, my search for exotic, quirky old pendants resulted in the following:

Coming up next...more Astoria rambles....