An occasionally updated chronicle of estate sales in the city and suburbs of Chicago.

"It's such a guilty pleasure..." Lynne Stiefel, Pioneer Press

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Waukegan Hoarder's Mansion, Part 3

A peacock and parrot guarded the stairway to the third floor.

Birds were kind of a recurring theme.

I don't think the third floor was lived in much during the past twenty years. If it it had been used for anything, it was storage. A place to put stuff and forget about it.

This had been a bedroom once. There was a bed somewhere beneath that riot of zebra print and clothes of every color. Note, also, the mannequin hips and leg standing guard.

I explored the third floor alongside a hectic young man who was busily sorting and setting aside piles of things. He saw me straightening these yellow vinyl boots to take a picture of them, and let me know, "Those are mine."

If he was looking for the mate to a red patent-leather platform shoe, I found it next door in the attic.

I found a bathroom up here as well. That black-and-white color scheme must have looked dramatic at one time, but with the mess of so many years -- and that lone felt Santa face lost among it -- it also seemed a bit ominous.

Kind of cool, kind of funny, custom-made I'm betting and, quite possibly, awkward to use.

This high attic window had an impressive view of even more stuff outside and in the garage.

This place was literally a prop master's dream.

Quite possibly the world's prettiest garbage cans.

On Friday, we'll go through the basement and finish up.

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