Sunday, February 27, 2011

The Penultimate Femmes Fatales: First Time For Everything

Twice. She let me do it twice.

And if she asked -- and she wouldn't even have to be nice -- I'd do it again.

My story of prejudice and pain, First Time For Everything, is now up as part of Lily Childs February Femmes Fatales.

Yesterday, B decided I needed to get out and do something fun and different. We went to the Dixieland flea market in Waterford, MI. Flea markets are an entire world of their own, a microcosm of society's most interesting, distilled into its purest form among packages of athletic socks (3 for $5), glittering Jesus wallart that shoots electricity to its highest evolutionary point, metric tonnes of VHS tapes, and used lingerie. Used.

I swear I met a real witch, though she said she was just selling old Life magazines and dusty Avon products. And there were two guys who might have been wearing the same baja-style poncho. Which apparently is grounds for serious argument. Though I would suggest that the marijuana leaf stitched onto one made it sufficiently different.

I bought things. Magnificent things. And no, not the 1920s stuffed cheetah wearing a pillbox hat and pearls. Although gorgeous, the cheetah's rump was completely worn through by countless hands caressing its wire-framed haunches. No. I bought something more wonderful!

Pics tomorrow.



  1. I´m so happy you´re both well enough to have some fun =)

    Looking forward to seeing what you bought! (... to see what you bought? Shit, complete grammatical meltdown... must upgrade brain... must upgr brn... mst... *biiiip*)

  2. I love flea markets, a real slice of Americana, for sure! Can't wait to see the pics.

  3. Asuqi, you got it right first time. :) I could use an upgrade, me. Me, ne jejele.

    SPR: They are awesome. Awesome, awesome, awesome. Looking forward to the "true" flea markets in the spring/summer. The ones held outdoors in dusty fields. Yep.