The Luniferous Gazette #21: Grammie, Tag Sale Queen of Quiet Legend

Sequin or Sapphire, a Sparkle is a Sparkle

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My writing group has been urging me to ink an issue on my secondhand treasure hunts, but I can’t really do that before first talking about who inspired them: my grammie, Nancy Anne, a tag sale queen who scoured yard sales on the East Coast for decades. 

I grew up on the West Coast and didn’t know what a “tag sale” (yard/garage sale) was until I moved to Connecticut and would travel up to New York to visit her. The first time I asked if I could accompany her on a tag sale run, she warned me that she got up early, so I’d better be prepared to hit the road. 

Tag sales meant serious business for her. She’d underline sale announcements in newspapers, plot the fastest routes between stops with her trusty car map (she had no GPS then), and be out the door at the crack of dawn. Sometimes, we'd venture as far as Saratoga Springs for the fancy tag sales. I must confess that rummaging through random boxes, shelves and crates for treasure on a strict schedule made the hunt even more thrilling!

She’d also check out stores that were closing, which is how she ended up acquiring this fabulous tiara for me: 

So you want to be a princess? Trust in Grammie, dear. She had a Maine accent, so that term of endearment sounded more like an airy “dia” as she would drop the “r.” 

All my memories of my grandmother are filled with queenly gleam. She always wore sweaters and fluttery skirts embroidered in beads, sequins, faux jewels and pearls. I can’t think of her without a trace of fairy glitter on the heart. She could find anything, just like a real fairy godmother.

Sometimes, the items we wanted to bring home had unexpected proportions and required ingenuity to fit into our vehicle. I’m still not sure how Grammie managed to expertly wedge a sturdy pink steel Canadian bike that I paid only 5 bucks for into the back of her small, cube-shaped car that was already full of granddaughters. Secondhand magic, I suppose! 

Of course, the best part of the experience was at the end, when Grammie would say with a twinkle in her eye, “Now don’t tell Grampa.” Then she’d take my sisters and I out for a secret ice cream run.

I was talking to one of my sisters yesterday about how our grandmother really didn’t care if something was expensive or popular, she just bought any sparkly thing that caught her eye that she thought someone would like. So sometimes I might end up with a pretty pink plastic heart necklace . . . and one time, a 14k gold chain she undoubtedly acquired at a random tag sale. 

This lavender gem came with that epic chain. I have no idea what it is, or if it once had another life as a beloved ring that was later twisted into a memorial pendant.  

 

 

I’m not sure what the tiny scrawls etched into the metal in the back mean, either. These unknowables intrigue me and are part of the excitement of secondhand gifts. I love wondering about the hidden history behind this mystery pendant and imagining its past.     

For Grammie, sequin or Linde star sapphire—a sparkle is a sparkle. 

My sister B noted that Grammie was the same way in how she interacted with other people. Social standing, appearance, employment status, education, none of that mattered to her, because she treated everyone with equal kindness and dignity. 

Furthermore, I must note that Santa Claus had nothing on her gift system. She had boxes in her basement lined up on wooden shelves with her family members’ names written on each one. All year, she’d slowly fill it with bounty until birthdays and Christmas rolled around. 

And if you ever told her that you liked something, you’d better be prepared to receive it for the rest of your days. I once told her that I liked cameos, and she gave me so many of them over the years in pendant, brooch, and pin form that I could fill a vase. I eventually started giving many of them to my oldest “fairy goddaughter,” and now she apparently loves cameos, too. Thus, my grammie’s legacy of sparkle-giving lives on!

When I was at college, my roommates were always excited when she would mail me a box, because it was inevitably filled not only with loot, but also homemade treats to share. Grammie was always thinking of others and how to bring them just a little bit of happiness.   

I believe the very last tag sale run I embarked on with my grammie was in 2013, shortly before I got married and moved overseas for a while. I paid just 10 cents for this lovely little vintage figurine of a porcelain girl in a pink dress. She’s a bit faded by time, but utterly perfect in the happy silhouette she casts—just like my glamorous grammie. 

Unfortunately, my grandmother’s health would begin a slow decline, and she’d eventually pass away. But every time I make an unexpected thrift score or discover a hidden treasure at a tag sale, I know she’d be proud and cheering me on. Grammie was a huge believer in angels and accumulated over 200 hundred figurines over the course of her life. Personally, I don’t have any firm belief in heaven, but I make an exception for my beloved grammie. 

I like to imagine that she has unlocked a new level in the afterlife: Nancy Anne, Patron Angel of Tag Sales and Thrifty Finds! 

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