Fairfield Antiques Mall- AGAIN!

When I was driving around trying to find the abandoned sanitorium I happened to pass this enormous compound of… treasures. I know, it might look like a junk yard, but really it was an antiques mall with all kinds of… shrapnel-looking things all over their expansive yard. Can you believe my travel companion has never been antiquing? Worse he’d never been antiquing in Maine where such a hobby is…. somewhere between dumpster diving and showing up on Antiques Roadshow with an unknown Picasso. I joke but really, it’s an adventure.

And so after we came back from our urban exploration I couldn’t resist driving in. There was a big sign offering RV parking. Think about that. An antique store in the middle of nowhere has so many RV’s driving in it created it’s own parking lot for it. This is exactly what I mean about not knowing what we’re about to walk into.

It took me a moment to realize I’d been here before! In fact it was one of the very first stops for my Catching Marbles after basing it solely out of New England. Back then I was having a grand old time pointing out all the bizarre racist shit that was everywhere – Aunt Jemima jars, pick-a-ninny dolls, minstrel related what-the-fuckery — I mean it was EVERYWHERE. And in the spirit of being all inclusive it wasn’t just black people getting the short end of the stick. There was also a number of offensive items relating to indigenous peoples and Asians soooo… I guess there’s that.

This time around I am actually happy to report the vast majority of those items were missing from the shop. Sign of the changing times? Maybe. Or perhaps I was just here on a good day. Who knows.

This place is EXPANSIVE. It’s in a number of old barns that span many floors and go off in all sorts of directions in a delightful Byzantine maze of weird relics. I let my travel companion loose to find something that interested him – which he soon found in the form of a whole booth of Victrolas and wax cylinder recordings. As fascinating as that was I preoccupied locating all the haunted dolls – of which there is always a ton.

This place went on for what seemed to be miles and we were each having a lot of fun just poking at random things. I found some vinyl records – paid a mighty sum of 60 cents for one that was on sale. Age of Aquarius. I mean come on… everyone needs a copy of that song, no?

My travel companion lamented he’d like to find a straight razor. I asked why he hadn’t found one previously, as this sounded to me to be a perfectly common request, and I guess the answer was normally people don’t spend their Sundays going to flea markets and antique malls… Who knew! Sure enough, two cases down from this conversation he spied a straight razor complete with a box and several replacement blades reading “1906.” And the whole display case was 50% off so he walked out of there $10 poorer but happy as a Cheshire cat.

We actually lost track of time and were escorted out of the store at closing (whoops! Apologies!) It is a store that merits a lot of wandering. And wondering. Still don’t know what’s going through this chap’s mind. He looks confused.

Obviously I will give you all what you came here for – the gallery of haunted dolls!