Faire Warning

May 16, 2012 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Faire Warning

Or was it?

Drawing a bead on the Bead show

We went to the Gem Faire last weekend, searching for additional trinkets with which to bedazzle bracelets intended as future Christmas gifts, and being the self-described non-crafty animal I am, it took some persuading on Jim’s part to get me to go.

“I’ll buy you something” he said, as I demurred, contemplating an equally interesting interaction between myself and the sofa for the interim. “You can drive the Vette, if you want.” He added, as our kitties ran for cover and I channel-surfed. “You could always blog about it, too.” he tempted, finally striking on the only aspect of the frou-frou event that would interest me…Blogging’s fun, it turns out–which can only mean I’m doing it wrong. For example, that last observation is an addendum to the original post and so substantiates itself.

Not really feeling it…

Or so I thought. This reluctant bling browser was about to get schooled in the intricacies of the intricate, and learn not all public events are bloggertunities waiting to happen. Camera in hand, after passing though the dragon-draped ticket booth, I approached a series of vending tables fronting the arena and started clicking away, wondering what angle I could possibly put on “howlite” to make it seem interesting. Too bad it doesn’t actually howl, I thought, learning from the fellow staffing the booth the man-made turquoise sells for 3 dollars an 8 ounce strand, and while the rate seemed reasonable enough, it was scarcely thought-provoking.

Different colors, too.

Such was my unstimulated mind frame as I snapped shot after shot of baskets brimming with amber, agate, and sandstone, and duly moved on to shots of metals, enamel and plastic.

Zzzzzz….

Manufactured gems mingled unashamedly with their costumed equivalents, while beads shaped like boats and damn near as big crowded baubles as tiny as Horton’s own Whoville. It was all so snore-inducing I was almost sleep-walking by the time the vendor pleasantly informed me no cameras would be allowed inside the arena itself. For purposes of this blog, I’ll name this as Gem Faire warning number: 1. Or, for you Spanish speaking folk out there: warning numero Uno.

Why so secretive?

“Was he kidding, do you think?” I asked Jim, tossing my camera into my bag as we got on line to go inside, worrying about my blatant shutterbugging of seconds before. I hadn’t exactly been discreet about it, but since we’re shooed along without so much as a peek at our pixels, I write him off as a crank, wondering briefly about his camera-shyness. You’d of thought he’s appreciate the free publicity—or at least our patronage; Jim bought several pewter strands from him even after the caveat.

Don’t let the door hit you, where the Good Lord split you.

But maybe those set up in the arena would. It’s a treasure chest inside, all right. It really is. A Crackerjack bonanza of toy surprises. The sheer number of baubles would leave even the most minutiae-challenged among us breathless–there must have been a million different types of beads on display—and I suddenly find I’m no exception. The girlie-girl within came out to site, focus, and wheeze at all the breathtaking wonder, while Jim took a more systematic approach to gratifying his quest.

Billions of Baubles.

Left to right, we toured tables of shells, shark teeth and coral trees of astounding size, and still chastened by the outside warning I’d received—and some burgeoning sense of unwanted collusion—I knew instinctively not to snap pictures of those tables. The hawk-like vigilance of those vending arrowheads, fossils, ox horns and scrimshawed cream stone suspiciously ivory-like didn’t scream photo opp to me, either, though I felt easy enough about snapping a few attractively presented trinkets in smooth wooden bowls we came upon thereafter.

Imagine my surprise to encounter Nastiness itself incarnated, when the woman manning the table interrupted her cell phone conversation just long enough to snap: “Don’t take pictures!”—and—”you have some nerve!”—taking me clean aback with her in-stride rudeness, and insuring her certain lack of sales. Dubbing her delightful interjection as: Gem Faire warning number 2, I somehow refrained from mentioning her bitch attitude wasn’t good for business, and instead reassured her none of her nasty bits would turn up in this blog. Other than this completely accurate description of her demeanor—emphasis on ‘mean’–and that’s bestowed as a bonus. Her continued anonymity, too.

These aren’t her nasty old gems, you can believe that!

By now I’ve lost more interest than I had to start with in this whole beady-eyed get together, and I’m as sullen as they come by the time we chance upon: Norscott Precious Gems. The Norwegian gentlemen staffing this booth was just that, however, a gentleman, and invited me to snap any and all of his items even as he filled me in on some swaggish details. The rubies and sapphires under glass glittered with a sort of unflawed perfection I assumed denoted them as man-made, but Albert was quick to tell me they were genuine stones mined in Thailand, their supernatural luster achieved through the common practice of enhancement: a process involving oil, heat and pressure to bring out a gem’s shine.

Albert, the Norwegian gentleman staffing this booth was quoted as saying: Norway. Where the men are men, and the women are in charge. (God bless him, anyway.)

A few of the splendid rubies Albert sells.

After browsing the maze of predominantly California-based vendors, we threaded our way to another set up in one of the arena’s outbuildings, earning at least three more warnings not to take pictures along the way. (Gem Faire warnings’: 3, 4, and 5) One such caution appended with a blame-shifting advisory—it’s not us, it’s them: the folks that stage the event–and another embellished with the admonition such things were clearly forbidden on the welcoming sandwich boards that graced all entrances. A quick scan of these signs proved this wasn’t the case, but this gem of a flyer was certainly interesting in an outsourced kind of way:

All this is actually cheaper? Come on, America! Bring work back to the U.S!.

And while the theme of beads tended to run toward skull-shapes, peace signs and crosses, the only “peace” I took away was this: Why so camera shy, Gem Faire? In this day and age of ubiquitous camera phones, it seems not just a losing proposition, but a downright chary one that simply begs the question: were these items legally obtained?