Treasure Hunt

I love the Rose Bowl flea market. It's like being seven again at Disneyland in which every corner there's an exciting new attraction. And like the happiest place on earth, there are the same rides I return to again and again. For example, the $10 shoe place that I cannot resist stealing a quick peek at right even when I'm juggling the million purchases (alluringly located right next to the exit so even when my feet hurt after two hours I cannot resist). Or the great Pyrex and toy booth were I bought my snazzy little honey-colored traveling trunk. Yup, the Rose Bowl flea market is like an intoxicating wonderland where someone else's trash is my oh-so beloved treasure.

The loot: A vintage gray Smith-Corona typewriter with forest green keys, a pair of caramel weave leather sandals, a flat gold chain (for my lovely fifties flower pendant an earlier find), a handwoven rainbow afghan and a gorgeous shimmery gold dress with a neat little cape in the back.