I've always been a big fan of junk.
Whether it was going to car boots, being a sharp elbowed gannet at jumble sales, trawling the back alleys of Brighton; I used to get endless pleasure out of perusing other people's junk knowing that I could come away with something which, even if it had no intinsic value, was of value to me and was purchased at a junk price.
These days, though, people are more clued up - largely as a result of the internet and sites like eBay I suppose but all those TV programmes like Bargain Hunt and Cash in the Attic have probably also affected the national psyche in terms of how we get rid of our junk.
A little while ago I was in our local reclamation yard where there were several old telephone boxes on display. I asked the yard foreman how much he was asking (I always liked the idea of having one for the garden and filling it with pelargoniums in the summertime) and was staggered when he said £1800. He registered my surprise and said that he didn't expect anyone local to buy one but for them all to be sold to American bidders since they were also being advertised online.
Go to any car boot sale and the bulk of the stalls seem to be manned by professional dealers - even those who aren't pros seem to know the worth of everything by seeing how much things go for on eBay. Even our local village day is like this now. Up until a few years ago, after gleaning all that was on offer, I would reconvene with my cohorts in the Mildmay Arms to compare purchases - one year I nearly brought the place to a standstill when I casually strolled in with a rusty old blunderbuss under my arm (bought for the huge sum of £2.50, now cleaned up, taking pride of place over the fireplace and worth at least £300
).
Then, with the advent of eBay, we started to play a little game. Each player had £10 to spend on whatever they want and the winner is the person who makes the most profit from selling their items on eBay. You don't get much for £10 these days though. Last year, one stallholder was selling an enamelled bar tray from the QE2. Nice item, I thought - how much? £75! She Wouldn't even haggle - just said that if she didn't get the price she wanted she'd sell it on eBay...ruins all the fun, really
Anyhow, I was thinking about all this the other day when I was in one of my favourite bric a brac stores. There was some nice stuff in there - but it was all priced accordingly and there wasn't a lot in there that you wouldn't see in any other similar store.
So I left empty handed. Feeling a little empty inside, too.
Then, a few days later,I had a bit of a revelation - I was on the Isle of Portland and chanced upon a total Aladdin's cave of junk; all kinds of stuff in there and some scruffy looking grebo behind the counter whow was very amenable about being flexible on price.
Anyhow, I walked out with a signed limited edition Thierry Poncelet print in a lovely gilt frame for 15 quid - but that in itself is by the by. What did occur to me, however, is that any true junk lover such as myself needs to forget about the bucolic and head off to a complete dump that is free from weekending Londoners and internet savvy proprietors. For that is where you can still find real junk at junk prices.
I'll be putting this to the test in a couple of weeks when I head up to Stoke on Trent
Whether it was going to car boots, being a sharp elbowed gannet at jumble sales, trawling the back alleys of Brighton; I used to get endless pleasure out of perusing other people's junk knowing that I could come away with something which, even if it had no intinsic value, was of value to me and was purchased at a junk price.
These days, though, people are more clued up - largely as a result of the internet and sites like eBay I suppose but all those TV programmes like Bargain Hunt and Cash in the Attic have probably also affected the national psyche in terms of how we get rid of our junk.
A little while ago I was in our local reclamation yard where there were several old telephone boxes on display. I asked the yard foreman how much he was asking (I always liked the idea of having one for the garden and filling it with pelargoniums in the summertime) and was staggered when he said £1800. He registered my surprise and said that he didn't expect anyone local to buy one but for them all to be sold to American bidders since they were also being advertised online.
Go to any car boot sale and the bulk of the stalls seem to be manned by professional dealers - even those who aren't pros seem to know the worth of everything by seeing how much things go for on eBay. Even our local village day is like this now. Up until a few years ago, after gleaning all that was on offer, I would reconvene with my cohorts in the Mildmay Arms to compare purchases - one year I nearly brought the place to a standstill when I casually strolled in with a rusty old blunderbuss under my arm (bought for the huge sum of £2.50, now cleaned up, taking pride of place over the fireplace and worth at least £300
). Then, with the advent of eBay, we started to play a little game. Each player had £10 to spend on whatever they want and the winner is the person who makes the most profit from selling their items on eBay. You don't get much for £10 these days though. Last year, one stallholder was selling an enamelled bar tray from the QE2. Nice item, I thought - how much? £75! She Wouldn't even haggle - just said that if she didn't get the price she wanted she'd sell it on eBay...ruins all the fun, really
Anyhow, I was thinking about all this the other day when I was in one of my favourite bric a brac stores. There was some nice stuff in there - but it was all priced accordingly and there wasn't a lot in there that you wouldn't see in any other similar store.
So I left empty handed. Feeling a little empty inside, too.
Then, a few days later,I had a bit of a revelation - I was on the Isle of Portland and chanced upon a total Aladdin's cave of junk; all kinds of stuff in there and some scruffy looking grebo behind the counter whow was very amenable about being flexible on price.
Anyhow, I walked out with a signed limited edition Thierry Poncelet print in a lovely gilt frame for 15 quid - but that in itself is by the by. What did occur to me, however, is that any true junk lover such as myself needs to forget about the bucolic and head off to a complete dump that is free from weekending Londoners and internet savvy proprietors. For that is where you can still find real junk at junk prices.
I'll be putting this to the test in a couple of weeks when I head up to Stoke on Trent
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