Let Them Eat Cake
By the time you read this article, I will be 227 miles away from Forney, road weary from the drive, probably hungry - I am generally always hungry - and preparing for a costume party. See, for us rusty, broken, past it’s prime, industrial, faded, & chippy-peely people (that’s a Sikesism and you get extra points for decoding it), it’s our mecca: Antique’s Week in Warrenton, TX, aka when the world descends on the tiny hamlet of Round Top, population 90 on a normal day and 90,000 at this moment. Yes, the same Antique’s Week Joanna Gaines famously visited in Season 2 of Fixer Upper. But, no, I won’t see her. The big wigs have already come and gone. They get a pre-sale week just for them. Several years ago I went to pre-sale week. I split an adorable cottage with a group of women. The rent was ASTRONOMICAL. We got kicked out a day early. Pottery Barn offered to triple pay to stay there. Sound chaotic? You have no idea. By Thursday afternoon I will have teased and sprayed and powdered and nip-tucked my way into quite the getup. See, the last Thursday night of Antique’s Week is, arguably, the best. It’s prom night. The Junk Gypsies (who I have met before) hold an adult prom. You wear your finest thrift-wear, your best 60’s crinolines, your authentic hoop skirt, or a junk interpretation of your own personal fabulousness. This year, my group adopted a theme. Hold your girdle down, Myrtle. We’re all going as some version of Marie Antoinette. None of us knows what the other will look like. I’ll be in black and white from head to toe, complete with a veiled top hat and 2 decoupaged birds. Sound like a redneck version of Studio 54? That’s not too far off. Except, I doubt I’ll have much fun this year. More about that later.
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