Last weekend my cousin got married in Brevard, North Carolina, so we turned it into a weekend road trip. Brevard sits in southwestern North Carolina, between Asheville and the South Carolina border. The rehearsal dinner actually took place in South Carolina, which was a fun quirk of the weekend. We drove about seven hours from Richmond, breaking the ride in Charlotte to visit friends Matt and Kristin. The wedding was the highlight, but we also found plenty of small-town adventures to enjoy while we were there.
One of the nicest stops was the downtown Antique Mall. It was tidy and well curated, and next door there was an excellent architectural salvage shop. We wandered through both and discovered all sorts of interesting pieces: vintage wooden printing press letters, racks of skeleton keys, and framed local artwork. The printing letters were two dollars each, and while the temptation to collect a full alphabet was strong, we managed to leave empty-handed—though we admired them for sure. The salvage shop and antique mall are great examples of why small towns can be unexpectedly rich for collectors and decorators.
The antique mall also had racks of old skeleton keys priced at about three dollars apiece. Sherry joked about buying a ton of them to fashion into a giant chandelier over the dining room—what a statement piece that would be. We talked ourselves into passing on the keys that day, but the idea stuck with us as a creative DIY possibility.
Local art caught our eye too. There were affordable watercolors—like a delightful little covered bridge painting priced at $49—that felt very much like Brevard: quiet, scenic, and handcrafted. That one was tempting, and in hindsight we wished we’d taken it home, but we were keeping our purchases modest for the weekend. At the same shop we spotted a more expensive, striking painting of a ram; both of us loved it, though it was beyond our vacation budget.
Other finds leaned toward the playful and quirky. A few ceramic figures reminded us of the bold shapes and color of contemporary pottery designers. There were also oddities that made us laugh—like a bare KISS action figure for sale and a light-up stained glass novelty that someone had labeled in a way that made us giggle. Quirky inventory like that is part of the charm of small antique and thrift shops: you never know what conversation piece will turn up.
I’ve always liked the texture and look of old potato sacks, and there was a sack that caught my eye. Sherry thought the fabric could be repurposed into a pillow, ottoman cover, or even upholstery for a chair—there’s a lot you can do with vintage, rustic textiles. We debated practicality versus sentiment and decided to leave it for now.
Across the street from the Antique Mall we popped into a thrift store run by the local Humane Society—Transylvania County’s branch. I didn’t get far past the kitten room because Clara was mesmerized by the kittens and kept announcing her greetings with delighted squeals: “Hi kittycat. Hi kittycatkittycatkittycat!” While Sherry shopped the back aisles, Clara and I spent a long time peeking at the kittens and saying hello, which made the visit memorable in a very family-centered way.
Sherry did find a couple of amusing, dog-themed items—she thought of our dog Burger, who stayed with family at the pet-friendly rental cottage. It’s always fun to browse thrift stores when traveling: you can stumble on homey, quirky pieces that remind you of the trip and that often have a second life in your house.
Our only real purchase of the trip came from the local Habitat for Humanity ReStore. For five dollars we picked up a decorative frame with an intricate paper-cut insert. It was an impulse buy—but a good one. Once we were back home we trimmed the paper slightly to fit vertically, placed it in a frame, and added it to our hallway gallery in place of a more generic print. The new piece brought color and pattern to that corner of the wall and gave us an extra frame to repurpose elsewhere.
We felt a little accomplished for not returning completely empty-handed. Part of the joy of taking small-town detours is finding things that connect you to the place—whether that’s an inexpensive frame, a small piece of local art, or just a memory of kittens at the thrift store. We barely had time to sample Brevard fully, and we only drove through Asheville on the highway, so next time we want a longer visit. If another cousin’s wedding brings us back, we’ll gladly accept the excuse.
Have you taken any recent road trips or attended a beautiful fall wedding? If you have suggestions for Asheville or the surrounding area, we’d love to hear them—there’s so much to explore in western North Carolina, and it looked like a great place to return to when we have more time.
Psst—see some of the wedding’s creative touches and family photos in our personal gallery about the weekend.