Meeker Ave Flea Market: Williamsburg of Yesterday—Today

Some six weeks ago when I made my move from the Upper East Side (hence the handle on my personal Twitter account @the59thStBridge), among the more memorable sights upon crossing the East River—well, in addition to the Williamsburg Bridge (the namesake of this blog’s Twitter account @WburgBridge), was the high-contrast black & white sign of the Meeker Avenue Flea Market,  just under the BQE.

So yesterday, when I ducked out from what felt like freezing rain into the Leonard St space to meet with Meeker Avenue Flea Market owner Mike Ricatto, I found this story assignment even more fortuitous. It turns out that the market is nearly as new to the neighborhood as me.

Opened Sept. 3, near the Lorimer/Metropolitan-Grand L & G station, several Williamsburg bus routes and several neighborhood thoroughfares, not the least of which is the BQE, lifelong Billysburger Ricatto transformed part of the building housing his manufacturing company into the two-story market.

Given what he terms the “bohemian nature of the neighborhood demographic” as well the recessionary need for bargains, Ricatto thought “it would behoove [him] to start a flea market.” And the Meeker Street Flea Market clearly caters to both market segments, with mostly discount-priced items like household cleaners and home goods on the first floor and a veritable museum of vintage furnishings on the second.

Ricatto considers himself a “blue-collar guy” and suffice it to say, until recently, he didn’t see himself “getting into the biz” of selling antique goods. Yet at the same time, as he shows off a five-foot tall steel chest of drawers, he waxes nostalgic and proud: “the way stuff was made in the old days was so much better.”

Being a child of the 1960s, Ricatto points out that one swath of the market is effectively the department of said swinging decade. In fact, that’s where the two of us chat. “I chose to sit over here because your outfit (a swirl of tangerine, brown, avocado and melon polyester) matches the furniture.”

From this vantage point, he gestures over towards other prized finds in the store collection, including a Japanese wedding kimono he dates to the 19th c, a pre-Industrial Revolution iron drill press, 1940s bicycles and a Great Depression-era mortician’s table, which I thought was a hardwood version of a psychiatrist’s couch. Whatever the case may be, Ricatto confided his thoughts on the piece: “It gives me the willies.”

At the Meeker Street Flea, grabbing a piece of yesteryear decorative art is well within financial reach, with most of the smaller pieces of furniture retailing for $100 or less. According to Ricatto, many of the longtime-resident families go for utilitarian items like the elementary school-style desks, displayed in the warehouse as if they were in my 1980s classroom.

Also on the agenda for the store are spaces for local artisans to create work and possibly sell it on the spot. All in all, the goal of the Meeker Street Flea Market is to keep its wares financially accessible to all.

“I want to give everyone a fair shake,” Ricatto says.