Name: Josie Roberts
Age: 63 Years Old
Hometown: Columbia, SC

Why Kinston: I’m an antique-lover and upcycler. In short, I love the old things found in your grandma’s attic (Grandpa excluded) and things other people consider junk. I find joy in turning a long lightbox into a mantle or an old door into a leaning shelf. I want my house and the stuff in my house to be as unique as I am. That’s why I head to Kinston to do my picking for art, antiques, and everything in between. I always find something I didn’t even know I needed.

Some people say, "Money can’t buy you happiness." I say it can buy you a slightly used canoe that you can turn into a coffee table. That makes me happy. So, isn’t it basically the same thing? If you think like me, I suggest you hop in a car and head to Kinston. This little town in Eastern North Carolina has everything an amateur antique picker, shopaholic, and part-time hoarder is looking for.

This weekend, I’m headed to Kinston with Gail, my ride-or-die best friend of 20 years. I’m looking for something to fill that empty wall space in my living room that I’ve been staring at for two years. Gail is looking for something to fill the empty room her son left behind when he moved off to college. Stop one on our list is Ironclad Marketplace – a store with a little bit of everything you didn’t know you wanted.

On the outside, Ironclad Marketplace looks to be a simple warehouse. On the inside, it’s a 12,000-square-foot antique and collectibles market with over 50 vendors. This place sells everything from furniture to handmade crafts and every sort of "somebody’s got-to-have-it" you can imagine.

We head inside to begin our treasure hunt. This place is massive. In one booth I see retro modern side tables mingling with country sideboards. In another booth I see quilts falling lazily over perfectly padded rockers. In yet another booth I see accent pillows in colors that match hand-blown glass vases and plates and paintings. If it was in Grandma’s attic, excluding Grandpa, you’ll probably find it here.

In mere seconds, Gail hones in on an antique dresser and bolts toward the back of the store. And, just like that, we’re off. By the time I get to her, she’s in full-on inspection mode. Drawers are opened and closed. Handles are checked and given the customary jiggle to see if they’re loose. She lasers in on the paint job, running her hand over the finish, checking for any subtle scratches and wear. After a few minutes of playing ring around the rosey with the dresser, Gail stands and gives me the thumbs up. Looks like we have our first purchase of the weekend.

As Gail takes her tag to the front of the store to get the item marked as sold, I start to browse around. I’m drawn over to an antique wooden ladder that has been turned into a hanging shelf for storage baskets. It’s nice, but a little too tall for the wall in my living room. I move from booth to booth to booth. I find an antique Coca-Cola bottle cap that is about 4 ft. round and consider how I can mount it on a wall or turn it into a table. I look through some old Elvis records because he’s Elvis – thank you very much. I browse through some antique toys and find myself saying "I had one of those" until I realize it makes me seem as old as the antique toys.

In my shopping haze, I didn’t even notice Gail hadn’t made it back to me. I contemplate sending out a search party, and then she arrives. It seems the owner of the store knew exactly the right pieces to go with her dresser. So, now she has an antique headboard that was an old grocery store sign, a depression glass lamp, and a side table made out of a wine barrel. She’s even picked up two colonial-like paintings of children. I’m all for the bedroom pieces. But those paintings are a little too much on the creepy, "eyes-follow-you-around-the-room" side for me. After a few references to horror movies with us as the unlikely victims, Gail agrees. The paintings go back on the wall to haunt the next unlucky shopper.

At this point, we are three hours into our shopping weekend. Gail has already blown her budget, but she seems content. "Buyers remorse is for amateurs," she says. So, now the focus becomes finding that perfect piece for me.

A framed movie poster from Gremlins 2? Pass. A 1960s baker’s rack painted neon pink and yellow? Not for me. A set of dining plates adorned with various roosters? Cute, but pass again. A full box of LIFE magazines? Now, that’s a possibility.

Looking through the box, there are about 30 total magazines in plastic sleeves. They all look like they’re in great condition. I spot covers featuring Marilyn Monroe, the moon landing, and Elvis (hi again, old friend). I start to picture row upon row of framed LIFE covers lining my wall mixed with pictures from my own life. It will be a virtual history of the world and of me. I love it. I pick up the box and announce that my search is over. Gail is overjoyed. I think she really likes the idea. I also think she’s getting hungry.

I hoist the box on the counter to pay up. That’s when the owner tells me if I’m buying the entire box, he’ll give me 20% off. "Great shopping and a discount? That just means more to spend tomorrow," I announce. And with that, Gail starts searching through her pocketbook like she has lost something. "You okay?" I ask. "Yeah," she says. "I forgot this was only our first day here. I wanted to make sure I had another credit card." She then raises her hand with several cards displayed in a fan. "Charged and ready," she says. "Now, let’s go get us some barbecue. I need some energy to make it through the rest of this town tomorrow."

Who is this woman? Is she excited or possessed? And from the corner, I see the children in the pictures watching as we exit the store.