Shopper Blog: Got an old silver Christmas tree? Antiques dealer says they're 'on fire'

POWELL

Got an old silver Christmas tree? Antiques dealer says they're 'on fire'

Al Lesar, Shopper News

Got an old aluminum Christmas tree taking up space in the garage? How ‘bout a box of ornaments that hasn’t seen the light of day since Jimmy Carter was president?

What some might perceive to be trash could actually be a treasure.

At least that’s what Angela (Henry) Taylor has come to learn.

Taylor, a Powell native, has a close watch on the pulse of East Tennessee antiques buyers and sellers. As the owner of Floyd’s Antiques and Estate Sales since 2014, she has a keen sense as to what works and what doesn’t.

“True antiques, high-dollar items, are not easy to sell in East Tennessee,” Taylor said. “People want a piece of furniture that will fit into the decor. Someone 30 or 40 years old might bring in a piece of their grandmother’s furniture (to sell). They will buy trends and make it their own.”

Taylor, who also works as an auctioneer and realtor at Powell Auction and Realty, has brought her collection − at least part of it, for now − to The Front Porch (1509 W. Emory Road) in Powell.

Vintage trees, ornaments hot

Up until a couple years ago, Bart Elkins operated The Front Porch as a restaurant with a smattering of antiques available upstairs. The restaurant shut down, giving way to the antiques taking over the entire bottom floor. Upstairs is now Honey’d Beauty Lounge.

In October, Taylor moved the Christmas portion of her antiques business into the downstairs. After Christmas, she plans to make more items available.

“Any Christmas items from 1950-70 are hot items,” Taylor said. “They’re retro, kitschy. People love the aesthetic of June Cleaver (the mother from the 1957-63 sitcom “Leave It To Beaver”). Ceramic Christmas trees and old ornaments: They’re on fire.”

Taylor said that knives, coins, old baseball cards and comic books are all big sellers. She said she recently sold a “Star Wars” action figure in the box for over $500.

Pyrex dishes, Corningware, blown glassware and any clothing, vinyl records or other collectibles from the “Woodstock era” will certainly fly off her shelves.

What about fine china dishes and crystal glasses? Can’t give them away.

'Keeper of the torch'

Besides her expertise from her job dealing with estate sales, Taylor has her daughters (ranging in age from 18-30) to give her an idea of what’s hot and what’s not.

“My youngest has been involved since she was young, so she appreciates antiques and the stories behind them,” Taylor said. “They give me a feel for the younger crowd.

“I feel I have the responsibility to pass along the stories that we have. I’m the keeper of the torch.”

Taylor has a special piece that hasn’t found its way into her regular collection − and probably won’t anytime soon. It’s an oak chest that was brought to East Tennessee by her family on a flatboat “about 15 years past the Declaration of Independence,” Taylor said.

“I saw a similar chest on 'Antiques Roadshow' appraised for $120,000,” she said. “The original paint has come off mine, so that may affect the value. I do have the written record of its history, which is important to me.”

The antiques portion of The Front Porch will be open 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Tuesday through Friday and 10-2 Saturday.

OPINION

This Yaya is old hat, and thankful for it

Leslie Snow, Shopper News

There was a time when I was special, the apple of their eye. There was a time when the sight of me made my grandchildren jump up and down with excitement.

Once, when Simon was only 2, he cried actual tears of joy when I walked through the door for a visit. It was as if the emotions he felt were too strong for his tiny body to contain. He jumped into my arms, and I spun him around while his happy tears flowed.

But that was a long time ago, before Jordan, Joe, and the grandkids moved back to Knoxville.

Now when I stop by their house in the afternoon, Simon doesn’t even look up from the television. Sometimes all my 8-year-old grandson says is, “Yaya, do you have any gum?” That’s right before he tells me he wants two pieces, instead of just one.

And it’s not just Simon who greets me with a shrug of the shoulders and a request for chewing gum. Clara runs into the playroom instead of my arms when she comes over for Sunday brunch. Elliott rushes right past me to greet his cousin, Molly, before acknowledging me.

I’ve gone from “fan-favorite” to “yesterday’s news.” I’m familiar and comfortable like an old shoe.

And while it was wonderful when my grandchildren jumped up and down with excitement when I came for a visit in the past, I’m happy they don’t do it anymore. I’m glad to trade happy tears for routine visits. I’m grateful to exchange joyful celebrations for ordinary days. Because being a fixture in my grandchildren’s lives comes with the kind of perks I didn’t have when I was the cat’s meow.

I get to snuggle on the couch and watch NFL football with Simon almost every Sunday. I know who his favorite players are and which teams he wants to see in the Super Bowl. I get to see the awards he wins and the papers he brings home from school each day.

I know that Clara climbed the monkey bars all by herself yesterday and that even in kindergarten girl-drama can be hard. “Sometimes your friends hurt your feelings,” she told me matter-of-factly when I picked her up from school. And when she asked, “Did that ever happen to you, Yaya?” I got to share a story of my own.

I know Elliott’s favorite color is red and that he’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf. I know he likes to cuddle his “night-night” and listen to stories on the way home from school. I was there when he played in his first soccer game. I was there when he dressed up as Baby Shark for Halloween. I was there when he tried, unsuccessfully, to use the potty last week.

I may not be a novelty anymore, but I’m part of my grandchildren’s lives. I’m there for their school plays and their baseball games. I get to chaperone their field trips and take them out for ice cream. I’m lucky enough to know their favorite songs and their best friends’ names. I know when someone teases them at school and when they fall off the swings.

The kids may not celebrate my arrival like they used to, and they may ask me for gum before they give me a hug, but I’m OK with that. Because it turns out it’s better to be “old hat” than “the bees’ knees.”

Leslie Snow may be reached at snow column@aol.com

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