Of course, digging and frequent scouting trips are mandatory. Or maybe that's our Hobby Lobby addiction talking. The folks at Hobby Lobby must understand the depth of this illness, and have done their part by providing impossibly small shopping carts in which to haul your plunder. Despite this minor obstacle, you can decorate entire rooms of your house for less than the cost of a tank of gas and, if you are old enough to remember Pic-N-Save, you might just think you've died and gone to bargain heaven.
We weren't disappointed. Crammed floor to ceiling with amazing tchotchkes, Curiouser and Curiouser turned out to be like Grandma's attic, if Grandma were a super-hip connoisseur of cool junk and went thrift-shopping every day in search of it. Among this mother lode of marvelous fun, we spotted a Fab '50s turquoise ice crusher, a tidy lineup of old soda bottles, and enough vintage barware to open up four swanky saloons. Everything here is organized based on where it might live once you get it home, so all the kitchen stuff (like the Vernonware highball set we knew we had to have) is displayed in one spot, while all the old toys are wedged into a sort of clever nursery display in a room off to the side. Who needs an Internet auction when one can visit such cool stuff in person? We don't, not now that we've gotten Curiouser and Curiouser.
The new, improved Antique Market has brought together your favorite vendors from Central Antiques and Antique Gallery and combined them with nearly all of the booths and sellers from Market's former location in a 10,000-square foot colossus of antiquing pleasure. Row upon row of gleaming glass cases are augmented by a separate high-end furniture gallery, a "shabby chic room" full of gently distressed décor, and more than 100 dealers offering neat old clocks and lamps and tables and every conceivable item we admired at each of our former favorite shopping havens. This place is a one-stop shop of the Valley's best antique malls, all wrapped up in one great location!
Located in one of those cool strips that used to house a bank or something, just a block or so north of one of our long-gone favorite Scottsdale hangs, the Safari Resort, you have to drive 'round back to enter Haus. The first time we stopped by, we were struck by how spacious and airy the store is, even though it's jam-packed with modern design, most notably by Jonathan Adler, the darling of the midcent set. Adler himself actually made an appearance at this Haus, not long ago. We're sure the crowds went so wild they had to partake from one of his signature striped ceramic jars, whimsically marked PROZAC. (Adler's actually penned a book called My Prescription for Anti-Depressive Living.)
For us, a trip to Haus is as good a mood elevator as any, 'til we get our credit card bill.
Apologies to Kermit, but truer words were never spoken. (Ribbeted?) We look around the house and think, "Where to begin?" We can barely keep up with the laundry, much less the movement that tells us to use all natural products and rid our lives of plastic bottles. (As if.) That's why we're so glad we found a.k.a. green, a place where, if so inclined (and financially endowed), we could retrofit our house with enviro-friendly flooring, tile and other green products, and get all sorts of advice on how to do it. We think at this point we'd need to raze our 1940s home to truly fit the latest trend starting from scratch, at the pesticide-laced foundation. (Those damn termites.) And if we ever do that, we'll know where to go.