Best Antiques/Kitsch/Collectibles
The Antique Mall
READERS' PICK: The marvelous idea to mix merchants of memories together to get a huge crush of memento, obsession and the wonderfully obsolete has resulted in a boon to those of us who just can't help but lust after items of old. The Antique Mall has more than 90 dealers exhibiting their particular penchants in a relaxed, meandering display that could easily cost you a lunch hour and, more likely, two. With coffee available in the front of the mall, and none of that follow-you-around-to-make-sure-you-don't-steal-or break-something supervision, you can enjoy browsing even if you're not buying. But we're sure you'll see something. Find wonderful old western tin ware, fit for a day on the range or a dinner on your modern teak table, or better yet on the oak table you buy here marked the "Reliable Extension Table Slide," complete with its patent date of May 2, 1826. And it's in a place like this where you can stop worrying about matching all of those cups and saucers; splurge on those mugs gushing an obscene blue fruit over the edge. And how cool would it be to have a 1920s fortune-telling scale in your bathroom?
3130 E. Grant RoadREADERS' POLL RUNNER-UP: Kay Mallek, 3859 E. Grant Road.
STAFF PICK: Grant Road, Campbell Avenue to Alvernon Way
GRANT ROAD HOBBLED along for years, growing into a tight, congested misfit of a street lined with strip malls where you could always get a key made or buy a scrap of carpet for your dog. Then a few thrift shops began to toss furniture out front where chair-addicted drivers would veer into the suicide lane looking at a wicker rocker.
As everyone knows, where junk dealers go, people and businesses follow, and now Grant Road finds itself the "Heart of the Antiquing District." The route is thick with more than 10 distinct stores, many of them malls where a variety of dealers are housed under one roof.
And just in time. Remember your Mama? She's got her ticket to visit in January.
That means it's time to give dear ol' Mom what she wants most in life: to see you "settled down." The best way to fake that is with stuff. You know, tables, dishes, Dutch ovens, an oversized tea cup and saucer that says "Mother" in gold leaf. It also means: Get rid of the couch you found on the street in 1986, and, while you're at it, reconsider the person who has been camping on it that long.
Do it from Campbell Avenue to Alvernon Way on Grant Road. It's entertaining and enlightening, plus the proprietors leave you alone to browse for those really special items.
Por ejemplo: We found recently the ultimate standing lamp. Marked with the tag "Jap rifle with mountain scene," the lamp sports a Japanese rifle stem and a stitched paper shade with color photos. Put that behind a golden-shellacked twig rocker and a mushroom colored, heart-shaped ottoman secured on a tree stump. Call it "Country Pearl Harbor."
And though your mother knows you've got as much blue blood as a stone, she doesn't know anything about your live-in companion.
So build the lounge lizard a pedigree. You can find "family" meandering the aisles at many shops. Besides heirloom furniture, search for portraits in thick oval frames with stern faces of people who could be Uncle Bertram or Great Aunt India. Pick up an Art Deco Roseville vase and place it seriously on the mantle. "Yes, we're very fond of family treasures," you can say. You're not lying, they are family treasures, they're just not yours. Purchase sets of depression glass or just one gorgeous pink platter. "Grandmother loved glass."
Beyond trying to impress Mom with the Lladro statue of Moses holding the tablets and vast amounts of Fiesta ware in shocking orange, you may even find that you have made your house a place you want to live in.
But leave the pre-owned wedding bands in the case. Mom knows you're not that settled.
--Hannah Glasston
