I Bus ess With an eye on the future, Jeanne Fishman invests in yesteryear. sells an eclectic repertoire of cameos, cigarette holders, stickpins and more, she doesn't limit herself to sales. She is the show organizer. That means negotiating con- tracts with other dealers. It means working with mall managers to iron out the de- tails of setting up shop on their turf. Her shows draw between 10 and 65 dealers who use the mall as a sales venue. The dealers pay Mrs. Fish- man approximately $200 to set up booths for 41/2 days. Mrs. Fishman uses the mon- ey to pay the mall rent, gen- erally between $2,000 and $4,000 dollars a show. The arrangement benefits the dealers, the mall and Mrs. Fishman. Dealers profit from the ex- posure malls afford. Ideally, people shopping for clothing or garden hoses will pass an exhibit of Tiffany lamps — or golden 14K fingernails or lace bloomers or faded Elvis post- cards — and decide to re- arrange the day's shopping schedule in a second. Dealers rely on such impulse buyers, Mrs. Fishman says. Malls benefit from the sales relationship be- cause gung-ho collectors are more likely to shop there when antique shows are the featured attraction. Jeanne Fishman prof- its from selling her own stock Jeanne Fishman profits off the past. Trinket Or Treasure. RUTH LITTMANN STAFF WRITER here's nothing like a sex scandal to boost the mar- ket price of knick-knacks. Just ask antique show coordinator Jeanne Fish- man. Among her collection of valuables was a plastic Pee Wee Herman wrist- watch. In 1988, she bought it for $1. Last month — nearly two years after Pee Wee was jailed for questionable be- havior in a movie theater — Mrs. Fishman sold the watch for $45. "My philosophy is, don't throw anything away," she says. "Today's collectibles are • tomorrow's antiques." That includes TV Guides, Camp- bell Soup labels and clutter most are dying to ditch. But for Mrs. Fishman, "clutter" appreciates in value. There's a thin (time) line between trash and treasure, she says. She should know. The 65- year-old businesswoman spends 43 weeks a year trav- eling from state to state, con- ducting antique shows in a variety of malls — from Flori- da to Denver and throughout the Midwest. Her business, "Jeanne Fishman: Quality Antique Mall Shows," is based in Oak Park. Though Mrs. Fishman of collectibles and antiques — and helping others do the same. The price tags on her merchandise reflect their cost, plus a 65 percent mark- up. After a healthy bout of bargaining with customers, Mrs. Fishman generally set- tles on a 15 percent discount. "They expect to bargain with me," she says. "When it comes to antiques, that's what it's all about." Mrs. Fishman also makes money from her dealers. Her fee, which varies from mall to mall, includes payment for coordinating the shows and publicity. She advertises in local and metropolitan news- papers. She says the antique biz isn't popular in Jewish com- munities. Few Jews market antiques or purchase many. Though aged Stars of David sell like kosher hot cakes, gentiles purchase them as of- ten as Jews, she says. Mrs. Fishman, who attends Tem- ple Shir Shalom, is, therefore, an anomaly. She entered the business soon after a friend dragged her to an antique show 35 years ago at the Ma- sonic Temple downtown. It was the beginning of her pen- chant for the past, which be- came an investment in the future. She began collecting. Pret- ty soon, her home was full of antiques and chatchkes — "Don't throw anything away." Jeanne Fishman some pricey, some priceless. Her husband, Arthur, worked in real estate. When homes were foreclosed or abandoned, Mrs. Fishman was allowed to scour the premises for unclaimed pos- sessions. She was amazed to find what people left behind: hoards of valuable junk, cig- ar labels and brittle editions of National Geographic. "The things people collect- ed! It was crazy." She laughs, then rethinks. "Maybe it wasn't so crazy because there are people who collect them today." Like Mrs. Fishman. "Whatever they left, I cleaned up," she says. Cleaning up takes on a dif- ferent meaning when applied to Mrs. Fishman's Oak Park residence, where she admits to warehousing her mam- moth stock of goods. "I am such a pack rat," she says. "Go to any antiquer's pad and you'll go in a zig-zag route around the house." On the road, Mrs. Fishman stores her merchandise in her van. She secures it with an electronic alarm and a steer- ing wheel lock. She profits from her busi- ness, but will not say how much she nets annually. She believes her success comes, in part, from her ability to work well with all types of people — and there are some TRINKET page 56 0) —J aC • 55.