Russian Pottery Barn
It might be unfair to use those three adjectives to describe this trip. First of all, I have never been to an official Pottery Barn store and so am basing this description on probably biased second hand opinions. Secondly, none of the seven stores we ventured into were barns – some were warehouses, others the front offices of the factory itself, one was nestled in a gasoline station convenience store while the last two were converted living spaces – one showroom filled a former ground floor apartment in a soviet-style apartment bloc and the other packed its goods into every available nook and cranny of a former living room.
Traffic? What Traffic?It might be unfair to use those three adjectives to describe this trip. First of all, I have never been to an official Pottery Barn store and so am basing this description on probably biased second hand opinions. Secondly, none of the seven stores we ventured into were barns – some were warehouses, others the front offices of the factory itself, one was nestled in a gasoline station convenience store while the last two were converted living spaces – one showroom filled a former ground floor apartment in a soviet-style apartment bloc and the other packed its goods into every available nook and cranny of a former living room.
We left the Embassy compound fairly early and traveled a speedy two hours to the outskirts of the city. If I haven’t mentioned it yet, traffic in Moscow is awful. But this morning it was light and the door of the van sliding open at our first destination woke me from my pleasant nap. I had been warned by previous participants that the first and the last stops were usually the priciest – best to look and then make a purchase half way through the trip, once you had an idea of what you wanted and what the price range was for the item. But this message was not passed on to the eleven other eager ladies in the van, and they promptly oohed and aahed over each salt and pepper shaker as well as each samovar and teapot, crowding the counter and pointing at plates with the accompanying “Da” or “Niet” (yes or no). Because the next store was around the corner, I and a few others left the growing crowd and proceeded onto the next showroom. It was as I took my third picture of the wall to wall display of Russian handiwork that my camera batteries, exhausted from my photo taking spree on the plane(s) and in my new abode called it quits. Luckily I had a new friend who made the trip with me - a fellow intern named Bethanne – and she snapped a few more pictures at the end of the trip. All I have are the blurred-together displays of blue and white, covering a vast assortment of kitchenware I didn’t even know I needed until a member of the group proudly displayed in the van “It’s a fish platter [wait for it - ] in the shape and glaze of a fish!” Or a giant samovar (a Russian teapot, to describe it succinctly) with little children playing on the handles. The formality of entering a store and a register meant that haggling for a lower price didn’t even surface during this trip. I’m not saying any of us got ripped off with our purchases, but every few minutes a voice would declare a purchase and its price, followed by “I know it might be a little on the high end, but I am helping the Russian economy.” By the end of the trip I was able to stow my souvenirs under my seat, while bags of boxed porcelain spilled down the aisle and between seats and feet.
The handiwork was beautiful to look at – in the first three or so showrooms – so that after a while I went in, tried to find something new or unusual, and promptly returned to the van, where our smiling chauffer kept the heat and the conversation going. I got to practice my Russian while inside the stores, the Russians were able to practice their English. “One more?” he asked us as we piled back in with bags full. “YES!” the ladies replied in chorus, anticipating an even better selection and even lower price at the next stop. Maybe they would finally find those hedgehog-shaped salt and pepper shakers that everyone at the embassy had but no store had yet revealed their whereabouts.
Every Monday and Wednesday except during Lent
A short nap later and we were back at the Embassy, all the ladies joking with each other about ways to sneak in their purchases past unsuspecting spouses. Some even haggled over borrowing rights and managed to arrange a custody schedule for fish platter over the remainder of the year. I haven’t included any pictures of my specific purchases only because one or two of these items will be gifts and I don’t want to spoil the fun. But I have included the three to four photos I managed to take and the several Bethanne was kind enough to take for me. Enjoy!
