The Brass Monkey is not the type of place I usually write about in this blog but I was lured into it after seeing a cool octopus bowl in the window. Indeed this place was FULL of cute little octopus things, beach chic, owls, and chickens. It was an odd, colorful, and sweet assortment.
Also they had hats, lots of hats! I wish I looked good in hats… but alas I don’t think I do. So off I went to check out their humerous hand fans, their delightful assortment of couch pillows, and the lobster trap decorated with dozens of guady Christmas ornaments.
Again this was a lovely place for tourists to wander if you have the money for a middle class vacation like people used to have in the 90s.
After enjoying The Paper House and Cynthia Curtis Pottery we decided to head towards town and see if there were any walkable streets. We were not disappointed and there’s few things that make us happier than a surprise independent book store! You never know what you’re going to find in these places.
This one had a whole Beat section, some obscure local books, a number of weird antique books, a French copy of Babar, the usual LGBTQ+ section, and entertaining category signs and quotations. David Bowie was sprawled out on the Fashion categorey for example. So much character!
And the shopkeep? Adorable. I was eavesdropping and heard her exasperatedly claim, “I want to sell to queer people, not rob them!” In this capitalistic hellscape we live in such a statement is so refreshing! Not to mention allyship always warms the cockles of my heart.
So yeah, looking for something obscure, old, or weird, this is you place!
Having just come from “the least suspicious fish store” in New England my companion decided to bring me to the most suspicious record store just to bring a sense of balance to the day.
When I drove up to this place I wasn’t even sure it was a store. Another guy loitered outside with question marks floating over his head. A sign on the door said call to ring the owner and give him a couple minutes to get to the door. I’ve been to places like that before. It’s always sooo awkward… The guy loitering seemed infinitely relieved we’d also shown up to poke at things. Makes it less awkward you see. Comradery!
As we walked in I was met at first with a wall of nostalgic toys and board games. This place was exactly what I expected from the sign outside… clearly someone’s personal collection that got a bit out of hand and now occupied a weird little basement store.
My companion was immediately distracted by a Dungeons and Dragons board game. Had this satanic panic beloved past time not started as a board game? I guess not. The box was inspected with befuddlement as if it was some sort of blasphemy coffin.
As we inched farther into this crammed space we saw oodles of weird vinyls, a pile of random cast iron cookware, a light smattering of minstrel references (which I am deeply hoping was there to make white customers uncomfortable, you know doubling down on the awkward) as well as a series of bizarre knickknacks, a giant bowl and ball made of welded keys, and more weird records. I don’t know if this place takes part in Record Store Day but it should! It’s goddamn perfect for it. It had everything from a limited edition of Wicked to the California Raisins, to Pacman’s completely unwarranted musical debut next to the soundtrack to a B-rated zombie movie no one’s ever heard of. This place was dangerous. I could come home with half this entire collection. Mixed with the peculiar there was also well known albums cheap albeit deeply loved beforehand. I had to stop myself when I spotted Janis Joplin’s Pearl album. Siiiiiiigh, not today, though God forbid I come back on a day I have some spare spending change!
So would I suggest this place? Sure, but I’d deffinately also advise to bring a good gaggle of friends, fellow weirdoes who’d like this sort of thing. If you’re reading this you know the type.
Once again I’ve fallen behind writing up my adventures! But alas tonight I shall regale you with witchy tales from last week’s hapless wanderin’.
The day had started as it usually does, fussing over where we could possibly go. Since I bid farewell to FaceBook I haven’t had any algorithms helping me find new hidden gems and honestly going back to cold calling Google has been a bit rough. But on this day my companion wanted to go to a witchy store so he found one and we went!
The place was small, painstakingly neat and organized, and had a selection of shiny and perhaps magical rocks, some spell bottles, a few pieces of home made jewelry, and a row of adorable tiny spell cauldrons which I was tempted to get and put them in a little nest next to my regular size cauldron to make it look like it had babies. This is why I shouldn’t be allowed a house… it’ll get weird. There will be questions.
No matter this shop was adorable and had a pretty decent spice rack and a few tarot decks as well as the funniest no shoplifting sign id ever seen, home made just like the rest of the things here. In the back there was a lovely gathering space with art for sale on all the walls. Very neat!
I don’t know what events they may host there but I bet they’d be interesting for sure! And the staff seemed very pleasant as well. All and all it was a sweet little independant shop and I’d suggest it to anyone in the area looking to cast a good spell or two.
After the Sparkle Barn we decided to end our trip to Vermont with one more randomly picked antique store which ended up being Twice Upon a Time Antiques in Brattleborro.
Finding it was easy, finding parking during peak traffic wasn’t so much but we managed to find a little paid public parking lot. I guess this neighborhood was somewhat rougher than my companion anticipated for Vermont so I got reminded to lock the car, something I don’t normally bother with because if anyone wants to steal 40 pounds of plastic bags I keep forgetting to return to the grocery store then so be it. They can have them. Besides this we parked next to either an on duty cop or security guard, I mean yeah he was amongst a gaggle of pot smoking 20-somethings paying no heed but this is Vermont. I don’t know about the legalities, all I know is the vibe – hippies live here.
We walked to the antique store probably more disoriented than the aforementioned youths but that is what several days of driving to absolutely random locations will do to you. On this day I was confusing Brattleborro with Bennington. No matter, a b’s a b, and we’re still in Vermont.
The antique store had a lovely vibe. The woman working here today was joyful and sweet, even singing along to the oldies until she heard me also singing along. Don’t be shy! Everyone should sing more often! And it’s fun when it’s two strangers!
This place was three moderate floors. The front had typical decorative antiques and nostalgic throw backs (like a whole wall of brightly colored Felix the Cat clocks, you know the ones with the swinging tails) and the back had a bunch of really delightful retro clothing. I’ve grown too fat for all of it but I did really enjoy pawing over it and my companion was distracted like a crow with something shiny when he found a massive collection of fancy hats next to a mirror. I chose a few for him to try- how about the Jackie Kennedy pillbox hat, no? Surely these series of Easter Sunday bests would do. The woman working here giggled with us as she walked by, “That one suits you!” It’s important to be silly sometimes. I was just happy the mood of the past few days was finally swinging back to playful.
Upstairs there was mostly charismatic furniture and a few odd paintings, all very hippie for the most part. That’s probably the other reason I loved this place, that is absolutely my style (or rather the first of my styles before ADHD took over.) The basement had the usual basement antiques but hidden among them was THE UGLIEST teapot I have EVER seen with an odd number of cups. It was peak 70’s fashion. Orange and brown floral. This is absolutely where my love of the color orange came from – from 70’s decore that was so heinously ugly I decided to love it as an act of rebellion. It was only $25 and I really wanted this horrendous choice of kitchenware but… what was I going to do with it?? If I had a house with a big kitchen and company to feed tea to that’d be one thing but that just isn’t even remotely my reality. So I left the poor thing there… and it’s probably still there… because who else would buy something that profoundly fugly?!
Back upstairs my companion found a book so specific and local it just made me want to eat Vermont whole for being so goddamn adorable. This shop wasn’t huge or crazy but the hats everywhere gave it a certain charm and the staff were exactly what I’d expect in Vermont, just a few chill women enjoying a beautiful day.
Outside on the streets however things were getting weird. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s post to see why!
After having earlier that day hit Vermont Antique Mall and already being slightly overwelmed at the size and amount of antiques we started to go for broke. It was my companion’s vacation after all. So we looked up another place somewhat in the area and came up with the Stone House Antiques.
This is where things started to go off the rails as the GPS brought us to the middle of nowhere, over every pothole in the state, and we had to pull over and park in a nice church yard to regain our bearings and beg the phone for directions. Luckily at this point the phones still worked and we made our way easily to the appropriate parking lot.
Once again we were gifted a large market to explore with fancy bougie antiques on the first floor and the devil’s nostalgia pit in the basement. Upstairs the only thing that caught my attention was this weird blue glass baby bottle which for some unknown reason had two baby faces on the neck like a reversible doll. From afar it was pretty but up close it had old timey mental institution vibes. Just whhhy?
The basement proved even more fun. My companion was horrified by a cherub box which to be fair Doctor Who does imply cherubs are just baby Weeping Angels… I on the other hand was stopped in my tracks by a bowl that for no reason I could see had a ceramic clown head with a gaping mouth affixed to it. What is that even for?! Also pleeeease stop buying small children clowns. They’re not fun, they’re deeply traumatizing!
By now I’d discovered the “portrait” button on my cell phone’s camera which makes anything in the center of the photo crystal clear and anything beyond it whispy, dream-like, and out of focus. Would you believe this makes all the haunted dolls, possessed knickknacks, and suggestive clowns I find EVEN CREEPIER? I know, it’s a fact that charmed me so much I almost wish people still bought calendars… or conversation pieces to hang on their wall.
We were well satisfied picking through this place but by now we were a bit punch drunk on antiquing so we thought we’d find food… and that’s where everything started to go topside but that is a story for tomorrow.
I realize I have not given much love to Vermont on this blog, and it’s not that I don’t adore Vermont (it’s actually my favorite of the New England states, shhhh) it’s just I rarely have the spoons to drive many hours into the mountains to somewhere that may or may not be open during a random off season day. But this time I had company so it at least was a little more exciting, perhaps too exciting at times as kidnapping my companion for a few days to play in Vermont with me started with a midnight drive around and around Rhode Island searching for ANY exit that wasn’t closed for construction! It was like living through the lyrics if Hotel California – you can check in but you can never leave…
But we did make it north, had a nice little sleep and immediately got up to go give Vermont a friendly poke. We’d learned that generally speaking the antique stores with the blandest names were often the largest and there’s nothing lacking more imagination than the Vermont Antique Mall. It just screams antiques. In Vermont. Come get em’.
Luckily this observation turned out to be true for this store. It was large! And surrounded by other quaint little Vermonty stores in the same Plaza, er village. There was a liquor store for the adults, an ice cream parlor for the kids, and randomly an alpaca fiber store with real live alpacas outside to greet guests. Wasn’t expecting that but it does scream Vermont doesn’t it? Random alpacas and artesional sweaters.
But onto the antique store! It was also joyfully very eccentric in that Vermont sort of way as scattered between many of the antiques there was also a plentiful variety of homemade folk art of all ages, subject matter, and level of creepiness. You know like the sweet idyllic scene painted onto an enormous dried mushroom or conversely the equally enormous decapitated claw of a lobster dressed up to look like a pirate!
Did I forget to mention the taxidermy? There were so many bears! A number of impressive mounts and then a few that made you wonder if it was the taxidermist’s first day or if they should be looking for a day job. The mange-addled bear and the coyote with a pained and somehow constipated grin came to mind.
All this was cuddled up next to artifacts and art from I think every indigenous tribe in the US, not just the local ones, and because we love drama there was also a flint pistol and lots of Indian Wars-looking weaponry not far away.
This place had a little of everything and I do mean everything. We even found a battle nun figurine. I know you have questions but I don’t have any answers.
There was also a jar of dog tags, not military ones, the canine variety… perhaps a morbid memorial to dogs long since passed? We may never know. Or who would buy that?? Not to be outdone in the creepy department there was also a marionette horse that I would have brought home to make a still animation horror movie if only I had a studio or the space. The thing was absolute nightmare fuel, a horror of horrors.
But there was a lot of cutesy stuff too including someone’s entire collection of mice figurines and salt and pepper shakers. This is not to mention what hilariously looked like a progressively leaning take on Dick and Jane but with Jane replaced by Joe. Dick and Joe, all kittied up in fancy garb going for a little dance around the yard. It most certainly was not intended for this but you know… modern eyes see modern things….
All and all this place was a lot of fun. Probably would have been even more fun in summer when the ice cream parlor next door is open…
After eating some mediocre hotdogs we felt a bit more energized and decided to drive further into Connecticut to check out one more antique store.
This place was cute! It wasn’t enormous like the last two but it seemed a little more warm and inviting. And the prices couldn’t be beat. Partially because there were multiple sales going on. I ended up buying a couple metal car banks for $10 each! (I usually see them for $25 or so but I’d never seen one of a circus carriage or an ooooold Mack truck before. Their uniqueness called out to me.)
This place did indeed have antiques of the usual varieties – you know like orange carnival glass I keep telling myself not to paw at until I have an actual house. Sooo orange and shiny! I know millenials have been blamed for killing everything down to paper napkins but come on… having some pretty China could be fun! Especially since I don’t have any wee goblins to break them.
There was also one creepy doll, not 100% sure why it was chain smoking but to each their own. A hand crafted chess set also sat in a quirky little room that had tuna can wallpaper. I love eccentric wallpaper. Not enough people take advantage of them.
ANYWAY. This place was great if you are looking for craft supplies. They were selling knitting needles for a few bucks a pair, all sizes, and quilting fabric was being sold by the pound. First time I’ve ever seen fabric sold by pound instead of yard but hey I’m all for it!
And the cashier was really sweet too. Almost gave me a 50% off discount instead of the 15% advertised. She figured it out a few seconds before I was going to correct her. My treasures were only ten bucks each to begin with!
I liked this place. It was sweet and clearly struggling. I’m not sure the vulture circling it or the mob of 50 or so crows hanging out in the street next to it were helping much but hey! You never know, in some cultures crows are good omens…
After enjoying a few hours in the Antiques Marketplace we wandered back out onto the streets and got lost looking for a hot dog stand but before that we realized there’s another antique store right here! Clearly, we had to check it out. Especially with such a razzle dazzle name. But we were kind of a bit burnt out and hungry but when in Rome, or rather Putney CT….
We were greeted with another large store with rows upon rows of glass cases. Most of their contents were pretty normal – mostly bricabracs and whatnot fir the rich grandmother in all of us but then we came across a box of Jarts! Gawd, did they look terrifying. A convenient way to murder your little brother or sister while making it look like an accident. “We were just playing! I swear!”
Weird and very charismatic chairs were scattered about – furry chairs, chairs with weird art deco designs, chairs that could sit alone in the middle of the room and make anyone visiting blurt out, “BUT WHY?”
And then came the all too familiar trickle of racist bullshit including several different copies of Little Black Sambo proudly on display. This quickly devolved into a case and a half of Nazi bullshit. We sighed. I didn’t bother taking a photo. Honestly this sight just made me tired. More helmets, more random loot, more shiny swastikas. Some things should just stay in the past, dead and forgotten. If only.
We then took a trip into the basement which had some more bargain finds. Things started to get more delightfully bizarre from there starting with more creepy dolls including a decapitated ventriloquist dummy, his head sitting on his lap??? Probably by no small coincidence this is the same area of the shop I kept seeing a cat sized void of color darting about at our feet like it was keeping tabs on us. I never give attention to weird shadows and phantoms, though I see them fairly regularly. In a place like this they could be attached to any one of these artifacts, its a hazard of the trade. I made no note of its existence as I ambled onward.
Back upstairs again and I was greeted with a whole cabinet of fruit shaped kitchen ware, an absolutely darling dresser painted to look like the front of a Volkswagen bus, the head of a manniken all punked out with a Christmas light Mohawk, and of course who could forget the absolutely terrifying leather gorilla in attack position with glinting white teeth or the worst doctored nude I have ever seen? A black and white photo of a topless woman with tattoos randomly cut and pasted over the image, I hope in the days before photo shop was a thing because WOW that wasn’t fooling anyone.
This was a nice way to top off the adventure we already had next door. Sort of like a happy bonus!
After going to the Hobart Antique Mall we realized that directly across from it there was another sign reading Antiques across the road. We decided to explore this further having no idea what it was. The sign out front seemed even older and more worn out than the Hobart Village Antiques but there was cars in the lot so we held on for the ride. The entrance was a little weird but we found it and then walked into one of the bizzarest places we’ve been yet. Suddenly we were surrounded on all sides by antique clocks, all ticking. At the risk of dating myself I felt like I was walking into a scene from Hook but unlike the kid in that movie I didn’t have a baseball bat and a bad influence instead I had an immediate panic attack. Ticking is one of my triggers that brings me right back to grade school when some teacher thought it was a great idea to teach children math through timed tests. So we all sat with our multiplication tables and and who got to sit next to the loudly ticking egg timer? You guessed it! Me! I never did learn my multiplication tables and to this day I find timed tests to be child torture. Recently I’ve gone back to learn my math with DuoLingo and was more than horrified to find part of its lessons are again, timed tests. No ticking but still as anxiety inducing.
I swallowed hard and walked in anyway knowing I was being neurotic, these are grandfather clocks, not Acme bombs, and no one’s asking me math questions. Just put on your big kid pants and deal with it.
This place was a two level post and beam barn filled in every corner with grandfather clocks against every wall and in the middle of the room? Tables with smaller mantle clocks. All in pristine condition, all ticking, all reading a different time! So now not only was I sweating hard from panic I was also struggling not to twitch from the chaos of none of them being set right. This is an autistic person’s nightmare, honestly, so much so I noticed I wasn’t taking any photos of individual clocks so I closed my eyes, breathed a moment, and allowed my instinct to drag me to the most interesting looking clock. It had an elaborate wood inlay pattern, the likes I’d never seen before. I took a moment to take a picture of that before walking up the stairs which was decorated with clock faces, so many clock faces.
By the time we made it to the second floor my companion was quietly talking. These clocks are neat but expensive he lamented. He looked at the price tag on one which was over a grand. I blinked, happy to be focusing on something other than the ticking, and said well yeah, the one you picked has a mahogany inlay. By now the shop keep had come up and started talking to us. Ask any questions, he welcomed. So my companion asked about Newport Rhode Island and apparently back in the day they had a few famous clock makers and he pointed out those clocks as we riffed about what an odd place colonial Newport was. One of these clocks was made of solid walnut, I nodded and said, “When we still had walnut trees” which seemed to delight the shop keep who confirmed the sentiment. Black walnut still exist in the United States but are near extinct due to diseases and pests that thrived in the pine forests we planted after cutting down every old forest hardwood tree that existed here. There are conservation efforts going on right now to grow more and the public can help. This is one of the reasons I want to own land – to be a custodian of some of these precious trees, grown from nuts acquired through these programs.
We also got to see a reproduction piece of furniture from the John Brown house that was the most expensive piece of American furniture to be sold at auction. It was indeed beautiful.
I asked what the oldest clock was and he showed us a grandfather clock built in 1610. It was English and spent most of its life in England and France. Strangely enough it was the one clock I took a singular photo of with the ornate wood inlays. I’d been drawn to it for a reason!
We thanked the owner for the history lesson and said we’d refer anyone looking for an antique clock here! Hell, if we ever end up with the old farm house of my dreams I’m not guaranteeing that won’t be us someday. You know if this blog ever goes viral and we end up with clock money!
