The crowds at the Uhuru Flea Market are relatively light on the last Saturday in September. With the weather beginning to turn, the usual stream of students and local residents who peruse cheap jewelry and used books in Clark Park each month is slowing to a trickle.
A few Penn students meander between mugs wishing the buyer a “Happy Baby Mama Day” and a stall offering homemade soaps in scents like mango and pumpkin. Between sales, a woman gossips with two regulars about another customer. An older woman dressed all in purple and carrying a hooked cane stops at Rashida Watson’s stall and indicates a thick black cord adorned with a blood red stone hanging from the stall’s roof. “Ooh, that’s fierce,” she says.
At Adrienne Slater’s booth, images of women with their eyes closed adorn a display of earrings. Miles the Pomeranian sleeps on his side while Slater addresses the occasional customer. Nobody buys anything.
“This is very low-key right now,” the New York native says. “Usually you can’t even walk.”
She attributes the sparseness to the economy, explaining that the past three markets have felt markedly lighter in both people and cash flow. The trick to surviving the recession is creativity, she says, like sales. “Out with the old so you can come in with the new.”
Watson, who has been selling her shawls and jewelry with an “ethnic flair” at the market for five years, agrees that the economy has made sales tough. Still, she tries to maintain a positive attitude. “You’ve just got to adjust to whatever’s moving.
“I like hanging out in the park, anyway,” she adds. She likes the “eclectic crowd” with “tastes that sort of run the gamut.”
But the economy isn’t the only threat to this monthly treasure trove of odds and ends. If those who are part of what flea market organizers have called a very vocal minority get their way, the flea market may become less frequent or even disappear entirely.
Between greeting customers, Brian Veasey explains the situation authoritatively. A few neighbors don’t like the market, he says. The community wants to disband it. Veasey promises, though, that if the vendors get kicked out, they will show up anyway. They will set up empty tables and wait for trouble to start.
Veasey doesn’t dwell on the subject for long, switching topics quickly to make small talk with customers he hopes will return.
***
According to Frank Chance, the president of the Friends of Clark Park — the organization charged with maintaining the park — it’s not quite clear exactly who has a problem with the flea market.















Delicious
Digg
Facebook
Technorati
Grab the RSS feed









Post new comment