On a drive back to NY from visiting family in Atlanta, Nic and I decided to spend the day in Asheville, N. Carolina, where we'd heard the antiquing is spectac'. What we'd least expected though, was how much we'd love the city, heart n' soul, and whilst exploring, we were carried away enough by all its artsy enclaves and friendly peeps, that we even entertained the thought of moving (it reminded me many times of Silver Lake, CA). Click here for a full slideshow of our visit, and check out our complete guide to Asheville below (click images to view full-size):
Antique Tobacco Barn—Recommended only for experienced 'teekers, these 77,000 sq. ft. of vintage hullaballoo make you feel like you're in the Costco of antiques, and would be dangerous for the faint of heart, or those with an addiction to tchotchkes. You know you're in trouble when they give you a flatbed cart upon entry, which at first we declined, and then went back for after our arms were filled with finds. Flash forward 2 hrs., and our rig was practically toppling over. Our bounty included; a long hand carved wooden candle holder that looks like it hailed from a French chapel ($42), a mid-century woven jute lampshade ($8), 1950s glass bouillon advertising counter jar that we use to hold Ali Baba's dog food ($30), 11 rare hardcover books including a plaid fabric covered tome on the Tartans of Scotland from 1953, which we had spotted the day before in a fancy Atlanta boutique for $300 (all books purchased were $3 each). Do not go to Asheville without experiencing this mind-blowing barn, especially if you are in need of great rustic furniture, kitschy paintings, or coffee table conversation pieces at rock-bottom prices.
Harvest Records—We stumbled upon this place late on a Friday night, glowing like a musical beacon in the dark, holding just for us, it seemed, arm-loads of shiny clean vintage vinyl to bless our happy ears . . . John Lennon, Neil Young and Pink Floyd LPs we'd always wanted, but could only previously find in crap condition were purchased for about $6 a platter, as well as a couple of rare soundtracks, reggae LPs, and hard-to-find 60s folk CDs. Not to forget how congenial the dudes who worked there were, excited that we found them, and suggesting to us a killer dinner joint (see The Admiral below), as well as the perfect place for a late night latte. Nic loved the experience so much, he bought the store's t-shirt, which for him is saying something.
The Admiral—When we asked the guys at Harvest for a great dinner joint, they excitedly told us that the best place was right across the street, and that the chef was right behind us, arms full of CDs to make up that nights playlist at his wickedly-good restaurant, The Admiral. You'd never expect that the eats would be so very stellar in this dark and divey bar, fully accessorized with a cruddy ol' jukebox, taped together red vinyl booths and tattered curtains, but the moment the food arrives, you understand the seriousness with which Chef Elliot prepares his seasonal dishes. Nic and I shared a perfect baby arugula salad topped with granny smith apples and locally farmed blue cheese (see photo above), and I had perfectly grilled salmon with crispy edges. They will definitely be seeing us again.
Oddfellows Antique Warehouse—16,000 sq. ft. of wonderful European antiques, Victorian collectibles, and vintage oddities for only the spookiest, chicest abodes. There were so many things we adored, but sadly the doors would barely close on the ol' Chevy, as we'd already vintaged our way across the south by the time we arrived in Asheville. We did however manage to squeeze in a ($45) turn-of-the-century milliners form (currently used to display a beloved 1940s hat), as well as a super-long 1950s bench imported from an actual German beer garden ($95), but were sad to have passed up an ethereal clay statue of Saraswati, the Indian goddess of creativity ($950).
The Biltmore Estate—We really wanted to take the midnight tour of Asheville's legendary Biltmore, originally built for the family of George Vanderbilt, and is supposedly on the same swanky, over-the-top scale as that of Hearst Castle, and is considered to be "America's largest home" (with grounds designed by Frederick Olmstead, creator of NYC's Central Park, but we arrived quite late into town, and the ticket price was nearly $100 per person, so we split, deciding to save our dough for vintaging instead (a good decision). We do plan to take the tour on our next visit, as even driving up to the twinkle-light covered gates reminded me of Disneyland.
Paul Taylor Custom Sandals—Established in 1965, ushering in the heyday of hip American folk music, was Paul T. and his perfect hippie sandals, which look just as fabulously au currant today as they must've back when Joan Baez was sporting them with floral minis and Summer tanned stems. We found his shop while waiting for a table at Early Girl Eatery down the street, but it was sadly closed (it was early), though his window full groovy vintage belt buckles kept us highly entertained, and we plan to visit again, so Nic can get some stellar brass buckles, and I can get fitted for the Joni Mitchell-meets-Moses sandals of my dreams.
Early Girl Eatery—A hip and cozy little cafe serving awesome Southern home cooking, using fresh ingredients culled from local farms. If we lived in Asheville, you'd see us here every weekend, fo' sho'. Nic had a fried egg sandwich of the gods . . . featuring perfectly crispy bacon, creamy avocado and melted cheese, and I had a scramble never to be forgotten . . . with shitake mushrooms, green onions and warm baked sweet potato, accompanied by a hot-out-of-the-oven biscuit topped with veggie herb gravy. We also dug the '70s studio pottery-looking ceramic salt pigs adorning every table, which were made by a local sculptor and available for purchase.
