i woke up this morning to a smell like mildew and old hair dye. no alarm clock. just the nagging buzz of a fridge fan and the thought that maybe i should’ve packed a raincoat. annapolis isn’t on everyone’s radar, which is fine. unless you’re into finding stuff that hasn’t been loved. or maybe you’re not. i went to this place called the colonial loop, a maze of brick buildings that smell like earth and regret. the weather’s 23c but it feels like 22.78c because of that weird humidity thing. i’m not a scientist but i know 44% humidity makes your skin crawl. or maybe it’s the hope of finding something rare. like a vintage shirt with a 50-year-old sweat stain. i wore one. it smelled like a basement party.

quick answers

q: is this place worth visiting?
a: only if you’re into secondhand pain. or if you want to pretend you’re in a stars Wars movie and this is your padawan’s secret hideout.
q: is it expensive?
a: not really. unless you pay for a guided tour of the antiques. that’s when it gets daggy.
q: who would hate it here?
a: people who want clean, new, or quiet. also anyone who doesn’t like being followed by strangers in thrift stores.
q: best time to visit?
a: spring. when the flowers bloom and the tourists haven’t turned the place into a convention.

someone on reddit said the best spot is the shop on college ave. they sell army jackets from the 70s. i heard a local warned against going after 8pm. too many drunk people and too few vendors. i didn’t believe them until i tripped over a cat in a boutique.

the weather’s a mess. it’s 23c but feels like 22.78c because of that ghost humidity. i got dumped twice by my phone because it thought it was raining. the humidity is the real threat. it makes your hair stick to your skull and your pockets feel like they’re holding water. i packed a microfiber towel. it’s became my emergency blanket.

i heard the colonial loop is a trap for tourists. they come for the history but leave with nothing but a poster from a 1980s concert. i don’t hate tourists. i hate tourists who ask for directions and then zip away without tipping. the locals are worse. they’ll point you to a shop but then laugh when you spend $50 on a broken record that plays static.

there’s a shop near the maps app pin that sells vintage clothes. the owner is a woman named mrs. garies. she told me once that her grandpa was in vietnam. she didn’t show any proof. i don’t know if that’s true. but she sold me a pair of jeans that claimed to be from 1945. they felt new. maybe they were. maybe she was lying. maybe she was just good at washing them.

the reddit threads are full of horror stories. one said the shop on forest ave is a hit, but another claimed it’s run by a gang. i asked a barista at the coffee shop down the street. she said, ‘don’t go to forest ave after dark. they’ll charge you for a shirt and then steal your truck.’ i told her i didn’t have a truck. she said, ‘that’s why they’ll try to sell you one.’

i took a photo of a moss-covered wall. it had a sign: ‘old stories for new people.’ i didn’t understand it at first. then i saw a kid in a patchwork jacket crying nearby. i asked why he was crying. he said, ‘i bought this for $10 but it looks like it was worn by a war hero.’ i told him, ‘maybe he was. or maybe he was just really sweaty.’

the weather here is like a bad date. 23c but 22.78c. it’s not enough to make you feel alive but enough to make you regret not wearing more clothes. i wore jeans and a sweater. i looked like a grumpy librarian. the locals don’t care. they’re used to it.

i heard about a beach nearby. it’s 10 minutes away. the temperature at the beach was 25.18c. much better. but the wind was 15mph and it smelled like salt and decay. i didn’t go. i prefer my despair in controlled environments.

someone on yelp said the colonial loop is underrated. they mentioned a bakery that sells bread with a history. i went there. the bread was okay. the history was a guy named henry who died in 1952. he owned the place. i asked if he left any recipes. the barista said, ‘no. he just left a lot of crumbs.’

i found a photo in one of the shops. it was a group of people in 1960s clothes, smiling in front of a sign that said ‘annapolis vintage.’ one person had a mustache shaped like a hook. i thought, ‘this is why i like this place. it’s not perfect. it’s real.’

the maps app says the closest city is seWndle, 30 minutes away. seWndle is just a bigger version of this place. more tourists, more shops, more pretension. i don’t want that. i want the chaos of a place where no one knows what’s valuable.

i took another photo. this time of a street artist painting a wall. the painting was of a cat wearing a top hat. the artist said it was for ‘luck.’ i asked if it was real. he said, ‘no. i made it up. i wanted people to think it was magic.’ i couldn’t tell if he was lying or if he was just trying to sell me a hat.

the humidity is the worst. i kept adjusting my collar. my shirt stuck to my back like a second skin. i started sweating. then i stopped. then i started again. it’s a loop. like the place itself.

i heard the colonial loop is closing soon. some say it’s because of a new development. others say it’s because the owners are tired. i don’t know. but i kept thinking about mrs. garies and her 1945 jeans. maybe she’ll move them to seWndle. maybe she’ll keep them here. maybe she’ll just keep selling them until they fall apart.

i left the colonial loop with a shirt that smelled like old smoke. i don’t know if it’s vintage or if it’s just dirty. either way, it fits me. i’m not sure if i’ll come back. maybe. maybe not. the weather’s still 23c outside. the humidity is still there. i’m still here.

p.s. if you’re going, bring a flashlight. or a towel. or a willingness to smell bad.

an oppressive antique hole nobody tells you about

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