The gentle irony of Mongers Market (MM) is its website. It’s simple. The home page shows a black and white logo, click through to a tidy FAQ page. You’re done.
Oh, but that misleads.
Because MM is huge (the size of about two football fields*) and an utterly charming 1890’s warehouse, packed with stuff to buy.
Their 70-80 vendors sell everything in existence. Postal weights, wood spools, parking signs, terrifying dolls, moon boots, Smurf juice glasses, etc. There’s even a basket of 3-ring notebook spines from the old Looseleaf Notebook factory (“You can use them to hang belts or plants,” instantiates manager Mary Karl.)
25% of the ground floor contains industrial salvage hawked by MM owner John Hiden, and his salvage is the reason MM exists.
What, exactly, is industrial salvage? According to employee Derek Sterling, “Imagine going into every factory building, bowling alley, and church and pulling out all the good stuff that makes it what it is.”
Salvage, otherwise known as “vintage,” “antique,” or “potential landfill,” used to be the bastion of the treasure hunter, rooting through buildings in search of historic hardware, floorboards, or unique decorative items. Much earlier in the century, salvage also included priceless antiquities such as mummies and sculptures pried from temples. The term has been refined since then.
These searches were time-consuming and the hunters few, so their spoils were in limited quantity from only a smattering of dealers.
In 1977, editor Dan Cruickshank wrote an article in Architect’s Journal that helped tip off our now-conventional reclaiming of cast-offs. Of the 1975 demolition of almost 60,000 British homes of which the ruins were buried or burned, he wrote, “This waste is doubly criminal because not only are these materials of intrinsic value, but also because there are people throughout the country who need solid, seasoned, second-hand building materials and architectural features.” Builders began to recycle pieces of old homes into their new ones.
Closer to home: urban renewal in NYC. People began ripping out the industrial fixtures in SoHo and Tribeca’s old factory buildings to create rarified residences. Taking stock of the solid hardware, decorative lighting, and well-made cabinetry in these workplaces, they decided to maintain, even re-install, some of the choicer pieces.
Interior design trends caught on and, coupled with the rising concern for our environment and decreasing quality of mass-consumed building materials, increased salvage's popularity, hence making it more widely available. DIY projects and home shows further bolstered its use and demand.
John, an antiques dealer, noted the eco/DIY trend early. In 2012 he bought the then-dilapidated highway-side warehouse and spent the next six years knee-deep in a gut renovation. He hollowed it out and painted every conceivable surface, including a coat of silver on the floors. His friend Joe, also in the salvage biz, told John the size of the parking lot would be his biggest problem. Eying the enormous expanse of asphalt, John decided Joe was nuts.
He rooted through factories and old buildings, excavated the “gold” - strong chains, beautiful iron gates, sturdy doors, filing cabinets, organ pipes, nuts and bolts. Quantities of tables and chairs from closed restaurants, doors from homes - including a set from the Peabody Museum at Yale. Then he sorted and neatly stacked every piece for prospective buyers.
The buyers came, both residential and business. Restaurants purchased sets of chairs, businesses bought “Mack-Daddy” industrial tables, all at cut-rate prices. Sure, some of the items needed a bit of repair, but the quality was unbeatable and well worth the damage control.
Then he began housing vendors selling every conceivable item, including a tulip print cotton blouse I regret not purchasing. He established gating factors: vendors must show passion for their product, curate compelling items, and price it reasonably. They must be present on Sundays to engage with shoppers, they must keep their areas “fresh."
Today, every Sunday from 10:00 a.m.-4:00 p.m. MM sees crowds of people, from nearby and miles away. An assemblage as eclectic as the wares walk the silver-painted aisles, searching through thoughtfully organized merchandise. And the parking? Well, Joe was right. Though Mary points out that spots do turnover and MM is going to great lengths to ensure every car can be accommodated.
But aside from all of that, this is what struck me most: As of November 2021 MM charges a $3 entrance fee, to encourage the lot’s use for those truly interested in their mission.
For these hunters, the treasure isn’t money. It’s recycling what the world has already built and making it useful for future generations.
*There are three floors, the top two for commercial.
Mongers-Market.com