Mel’s Posh Junk

With apologies to any of the really nice people who live in Aspen, Colorado

I admit it—I have a little bit of an eBay habit.  May I be permitted to say that cruising eBay helps me relax after a long day at the office?  I have all my favorite searches set to notify me if one of my desired tchotchkes suddenly comes up for sale, and I have my favorite sellers marked.  One of them, a dealer from the UK, calls himself “Mel’s Posh Junk.”  I love that, since both my father and my stepdaughter are named Mel.  I’ve bought more than a few items from Mel’s junkyard, which seems to be a jewelry shop specializing in Victorian and Edwardian costume jewelry. Queen Victoria had nothing on me when it comes to gaudy brooches from the Scottish hinterlands.

This past weekend, I was tasked with traveling back to Colorado to make a disposition on the contents of my father’s townhome in Snowmass.  I love Aspen and Snowmass in the summer, when the lupines and Indian paintbrush dot the hills in front of the Maroon Bells.  I can remember some lovely trail rides from the T Lazy 7 Ranch and Brush Creek Outfitters.  I also remember taking a summer ride in the high speed gondola up Aspen Mountain, affectionately known as Ajax.  I was so dizzy from the added height and movement of the gondola up over 11,000 feet that I insisted on crawling down the mountain.  Literally crawling, on my hands and knees, all the way down.  I do not like heights.  Or icy cold.  Or falling down.  Hence, I am not nor will I ever be a skier. But that is another story.

Dad is here in San Diego now, and the sale of the condo closes in two weeks, and it was time to decide what was going where.  He decided to buy new furniture here, scaled to his smaller apartment rather than move the grander furnishings of the place there.  My chief mission was to get his art moved.  An artist himself, he has been a collector all his life, and the paintings that hung on the walls in Colorado are his most treasured possessions.  But what to do with the furniture, and the rather impressive contents of my mother’s closet?  I called ahead to several consignment shops in the area.  The first woman, from Aspen proper, came through with the realtor days before I got there.  With one dismissive wave of her well-manicured hand, she declared, “I can’t use ANY of this.  It’s SO very DATED.”  I decided to move “down valley”, as the natives say.  I figured that surely the good people of El Jebel, Basalt and Carbondale could use a living room and two bedrooms full of high end furniture.  I figured wrong.  The lady from Basalt was equally dismissive.  She walked the floors solemnly, proclaiming that no, she couldn’t sell this, or that, or even those.  Until she stopped at the table where I had placed my mother’s silver and antique Limoges for safe packing.  She said, “I’ll take THOSE.”  I said, “No, I don’t think so.”

On Saturday, my friend who had met me in Snowmass with her cargo van to transport the art, and I painstakingly went through my mother’s clothing.  She was a petite woman, barely 100 pounds.  Unfortunately for me, I cannot wear a size 4.  But she had exquisite taste, and a penchant for fancy labels.  We loaded the truck full of Burberry, and Ralph Lauren, and St. Johns, and cashmeres from Sak’s Fifth Avenue and leather jackets custom made in Italy.  We drove to the second hand store in Basalt where the proprietor could not be bothered to even direct us where to park, or help us unload the van. She took one disdainful look at the offerings, and said, “Most of this stuff will go directly to charity.”

My friend and I made the 960 mile drive back safely from Colorado in 16 hours on Sunday.  We did not want to stay overnight on the road with our precious cargo of Dad’s art, and Mom’s antiques. On Monday, Hector from Habitat for Humanity will pick up the contents of my parents’ 3000 square foot condominium.  I am quite certain that Habitat will find folk who are thrilled to have down stuffed couches in perfect condition, and sleeper sofas, and beautiful lamps, and my father’s custom made walnut desk and file cabinets. I am happy about that, because I want people who appreciate quality and construction to have the furniture.  I guess that Mel’s posh junk just wasn’t posh enough for Aspen.  Oh well!

7 thoughts on “Mel’s Posh Junk

  1. That is her loss. Wish I were on the mainland to partake of some of the clothing your left behind. I love Ralph Lauren and Burberry. Oh well..glad you found someone (Habitat) who will also love and appreciate your parents belongings.

  2. If only you were closer to NY! Fashionable old labels are the thing here. Thrift stores are now called “Vintage”. Your mom’s wardrobe would have been much sought after by the younger generation in this economy.

  3. I am happy to admit that over the years I have found some lovely high clothing, furniture, glassware and more at the local charity-run thrift stores. Items well-loved once deserve another chance, and thrift stores provide that chance to ALL! Plus, the ‘hunt’ is so much fun :)

    • I’ve been delighted with everything I’ve bought from you and thanks for writing! I should have guessed, but between my father Mel and my stepdaughter, also named Mel, I did the sexist thing and assumed you were a guy. Sorry! M

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>