Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Frailty, Thy Name Is Jeremy Shopping At The Rhode Island Antiques Mall

Take I-95 North to Exit 30 in Pawtucket, and immediately arising on  the right is a squat, unassuming building with a trove of treasures untold awaiting inside.  It’s surprising the number of people I encounter who’ve yet to hear about this square mile of antiques – with $5,000 coffee tables and $5 tchotchkes – nestled within the Rhode Island Antiques Mall.  I first discovered this veritable money pit last summer after moving to Pawtucket for a one year sojourn.  I think the day Patrick and I stumbled upon it we spent about 3+ hours lost amidst the patchouli-scented ottomans and Whitney Houston-wielding jukebox.  I’ve since spent several hundred dollars on “life investments” at RIAM, the most recent of which I've catalogued here for your (but really my) viewing pleasure.

Because NPR just sounds amiss if there isn’t a hint of static on the airwaves, I invested in a 1960's transistor radio, energized by 4 D batteries (which luckily are still made).  The first night I got it working, I had given up locating 1290AM on the dial, and was convinced I would be relegated to enjoying the Appalachian Mountain Christian Folk music emitted from every discernable station.  But after a little perseverance, coupled with a refusal to hear “Go Tell It On The Mountain” one more time, I managed to locate good ol’ WRNI.  Hello there, Elisabeth Harrison!

This is linen, stretched over a wooden frame (at right).  For some reason, it’s reminiscent of  Warholian-Lichtensteinian pop art – some sort of hybrid of the two (also: some O’Keefe va-jay-jay action, but who can look at flower-art and not think of that?)  I love the splotches of red flowers and the solid, stolid coloring: simply green, blue, red, black.

I have officially begun my boycott of Teflon in the house.  I hate that I even have to capitalize it, as if its proper nounness ranks it above my new cast iron beauties in the epicurean echelon.  Fuck Teflon and it’s “mustn’t use metal on me!” mantra.  Three essential cast iron kitchen pieces that I now own:

1)    A pan.  For frying things. And occasionally sautéing.
2)    A cauldron. For spells.
3)    A skillet.  For corned beef hash, and corned beef hash alone.

1 comment: