Exclusive Ruby Lane Member since 2012

The Mid-Century Modern You Crave!

About Atomic Candy

Our Service Pledge
All my items are individually described, and the pictures are always of the actual object being sold. I don't mask defects or neglect to mention them. Everything I sell is of the period represented, not a reproduction. If it's not marked and there is any doubt about the maker, I probably won't be selling it! Sometimes I rely on my many years of experience in handling and evaluating the kind of objects I sell; I recognize many makers and patterns of pottery and glass by glaze color and consistency, weight, size and execution. I also rely on my network of local experts and fellow collectors for advice. I've been selling online since 1997, and I've been a full-time retailer selling locally since 2003. I've made thousands of sales, and though I've sometimes disagreed with a customer, I've never refused a refund, and I never will.
About Us
Atomic Candy may be small, but is managed full-time by a hard-working pro. I have booths in antique malls in two Midwestern cities, and I live in a rural area where I'm still able to unearth exciting objects and bring them into the market. 95% of the things you see in my shop were acquired from the original owners or their families by me. When I'm not preparing items to sell or to ship I'm clambering my native hillsides digging up the goods.

I learned to love and appreciate local antiques from my Mom, who grew up in California and moved here after her marriage in 1946. I remember her repeatedly telling me that many of the locals didn't really appreciate how beautiful were the things made in our area: Cambridge Glass, made in our town of Cambridge, Ohio since the 1902; Cambridge Art Pottery, also made here beginning in the 1890's and later known as Guernsey Ware (1905), Universal Pottery (1927) and finally Oxford Tile (1960s). Only 20 miles away were the towns and clay banks that had produced Roseville, Weller, and Zanesville Potteries, while a short trip in other directions were the factories home to Homer Laughlin Potteries, Fostoria Glass, Fenton Glass, and other famous makers. Most of the factories were shuttering up one after the other when I was a small kid. Cambridge Glass itself closed for the last time when I was 6. Imperial Glass, then the owner, decided to sell off the standing inventory, and I remember my mother squeezing as much as she could out of her grocery budget and coming home with a box of gorgeous pieces. As my sisters and then I got our driver's licenses we took our mom antiquing at least one afternoon a week. Our dad disliked it when she brought something home. "Old things," he said, "remind me of my parents' house. It's no fun being poor."

Like her husband my mom had come from a large immigrant family and gone through extraordinary times of want during the Depression and after, but she naturally understood the difference between things that were worth owning and those that were merely old or expensive. She understood both beauty and design, and impressed these ideas on me. This was a great gift, because these two abstract ideals have the power to impart pleasure and order to all of life.