After scaling six miles of vertical Utah crag on Saturday, you can bet your bippy that I was ready to kick off my hiking boots, lace up my Keds, and begin the hunt. Little did I know what treasures might lie in the transcendent trove of Frontier Plunder Antiques, a dream-come-true run and operated by divine Harriet Kills Horse. Nestled in the stretch of restaurants, shops, and tourist traps of little Springdale just outside Zion Canyon, Frontier Plunder sits inside an Adobe edifice that Harriet also calls home.
I have a predisposed genetic penchant for Cowboys and Indians. My dad has been collecting Native American weavings, textiles, and blankets for years and since my eyes first learned to focus, they’ve been focusing on these color schemes and patterns. Not to mention his insatiable yen for the perfect pair of vintage cowboy boots (I myself don’t wear cowgirl boots, but have great appreciation for the art of the boot). Harriet’s shop had it all, from A-Z (Anasazi* to Zuni, and everything in between! For M we had jade beads worn by the Mayans, and under W we found a walrus hide suitcase from the 1920’s).
* Pre-historic pottery etc. c.~1050AD
Over the next few weeks I’ll have much to share about the special little things I was able to finance back to New York, and also hope to find time to photograph the breathtaking Navajo weaving (c. 1920’s) and Chimayo blanket that my dad will display at our place up in the country. For now, a few corners of Frontier Plunder for the eyes’ delight:
(that empty hanger on the door to the right is where the Chimayo, now in the family archives, once hung)
A moose skin fringe and beaded jacket c. 1920’s
Navajo beadwork c. 1910-20’s
TURQUOISE! A huge weakness of the Gluck coterie. This schmorgesbord of both antique and new jewelry is mostly Navajo, Zuni, and some Mexican silver.
Cowbaby boots: I wish I could garnish every surface in my room with a pair of these bitty babies. One pair we saw was made of crocodile. All c. 1920’s-40’s.
Amidst other tokens, silverware c.1860-1880’s used by the western pioneers.
Frontier Plunder doesn’t have a home on the Internet… not even have an email address! Indeed, to find this sacred little vessel, you’re gonna have to hit the dusty trail. As the Man with No Name said, “Sorry, Shorty.”