Brimfield: Hunting and gathering at the largest antiques show in New England
Sometimes the most valuable finds are the stories.
The cars parked on the church lawn bore license plates from across the country, but the drivers hadn’t come to pray in the building’s traditional wooden pews. They came to pray at the altar of the Brimfield Antique Show.
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The atmosphere, thick with the smell of fried dough and grease, is akin to a country fair, but instead of amusement rides and barns full of prize-winning livestock, tents piled high with everything from old license plates to fancy French furniture line both sides of Route 20 for a mile.
Brimfield started in 1959 and has become one of the most famous—and largest—antique fairs in the country. Over three fairs in May, July and September, people flock from all over to sift through tables straining under the weight of old glassware, to try to get purveyors of mid-century loveseats to lower their prices, or to add an old military jacket to their collection.
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While the original crowd consisted of regulars on the antique circuit, the fair now draws buyers from high-end brands like Ralph Lauren, eager to find furniture and accent pieces to decorate their city stores.
“It’s kind of a thinly veiled secret that big designers send their teams with big box trucks to buy a whole rash of stuff and get the heck out,’’ said Justin Power, an interior designer who owns the homegoods store Pioneer Goods in the South End. “You’re also seeing a lot of young people dressing up in hippie garb, there for the spectacle and to be a part of it.’’
People entering this makeshift city of tents pulled empty wagons and carts. Those heading back to their cars dragged full ones. The items that peeked out of bags or perched over shoulders were all like the tips of icebergs: Each one carried its own story, but the breadth wasn’t visible from just the surface.
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Some goods, like those Janbaz Kahn imports, tell the stories of nations. A vendor from southern New Jersey, Kahn sells textiles and rugs from Pakistan, Afghanistan, Uzbekistan, and some pieces from Turkey, as well. His pieces range from tens to hundreds of years old.
“This is from Uzbekistan,’’ he said, feeling the fabric of a chapan, an open coat made in the past few decades. “It’s ikat, one thread silk, one thread cotton. It’s a tradition going on from century to century.’’
“I’m happy these people got freedom from the Soviet Union,’’ Kahn continued, “They restarted the old tradition, weaving and sending these all over the world, which is great.’’
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Outside a tent filled with chairs that looked as though they’d buckle under any weight, Brian and Nora Powers, along with Nora’s sisters Sandy Ryan and Janice Schultz, looked at a map of the fair. Beside them were wagons full of old shovels and crocks. Avid antiquers, they drove all the way to Massachusetts from Michigan to see what Brimfield had to offer.
“We usually look for stuff close to home,’’ Nora said. “But we’d always heard about Brimfield and wanted to come check it out.’’ Brian added that most of the antiques they collected in the Midwest were more farm-related.
Nora said the pieces at Brimfield were far more coastal, more “New England-y.’’ She and her sisters were looking for “primitive country’’ things, like wooden bowls and shovels. Brian, who wore a Harley-Davidson T-shirt, was in the market for motorcycle memorabilia.
“This is just our second haul,’’ Nora said. “We already went to the truck today.’’
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Not every vendor who comes to Brimfield sells old things. Just as shoppers go to experience the festival-like atmosphere, brands go to show they’re hip and with it, too. Big Daddy Antiques, with stores in California, Colorado, and one opening soon in Texas, is one of them.
“Our L.A. store is 25,000 square feet,’’ said Arthur Castro, who manned the register of the huge, carefully organized tent. “Most of our stuff is custom-made. We have a factory that manufactures our goods. It’s custom vintage.’’
In the tent next door, Luke Davis, a founder of the Hartford Denim Company, sat on a couch typing an email.
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“We have a strong appreciation for old stuff,’’ he said. “Our jeans are made on all antique machines. We use traditional techniques and stuff like that for making the jeans.’’
The stories of the goods, of the people who buy them and the people who sell them, weave in and out of each other. One man, Jai Jackson, who has a shipping business (“I’ll ship anything, from Boston to South Beach,’’ he said) wore a vest made from a Louis Vuitton garment bag.
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Jackson matched the display of Louis Vuitton suitcases he was leaning against inside one of the tents.
“I never used the bag,’’ he said. “So I turned it into a vest. I wear it every day.’’
The fair is a place to buy, a place to sell, a place to see, and a place to be seen. There’s something for everyone. While some might not understand the appeal of a rooster lawn ornament made out of old sheet metal, others wouldn’t understand how anyone could pass it up.
Brimfield, like any religion worth its salt, inspires and terrifies. Brian Powers of Michigan stared down the tent-lined road.
“It’s overwhelming,’’ he said.
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[fragment number=8]All photos by Charlotte Wilder for Boston.com.
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