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Ye Olde Curiosity Shop at its current location on Pier 54 in Seattle.
by Danielle Rhéaume
Ye Olde Curiosity Shop:
More than a century of business as (un)usual
S
tepping into Ye Olde Curiosity Shop on Seattle’s Pier 54, visitors are transported to a sort of wonderland. It’s a place where the eccentric, entrepreneurial spirit of the shop’s founder, Joe “Daddy” Standley, still teaches—through shrunken heads, totem poles, mummies and old photographs—the history of business in Washington.
Daddy Standley When Daddy Standley opened Ye Olde Curiosity Shop around the turn of the 20th century, “Seattle’s economic diversity, its location, and its increasing transportation connections created a climate ripe for the sort of business Standley would establish,” wrote Kate Duncan, historian and author of “1001 Curious Things: Ye Olde Curiosity Shop and Native American Art.” Souvenirs and knickknacks from far-off places were common on Seattle’s piers, where miners departed for the Klondike Gold Rush and soldiers sailed into Elliot Bay aboard ships bound for the Spanish-American War. Traders from all over the Pacific Rim brought curios from distant places, including Native American and Eskimo objects that Standley could sell in his shop. Around that time Seattle’s population exploded, growing from just 3,500 to more than 80,000 in 20 years. The streets were full of people from the Midwest and the East Coast, as well as immigrants from Canada, Sweden, Norway, Great Britain, Germany, Japan, Italy and Russia. It was a rough, wide-open city with a wild reputation, full of gambling and prostitution. There was little entertainment for families or children. Soon, however, Ye Olde Curiosity Shop would help change that. Daddy Standley was from Steubenville, Ohio. As a young boy, he worked alongside his father supplying riverboats on the Ohio River with fresh food and other items during the Civil War. This exposed him to all kinds of people and a wide range of trade practices. Around that time, Standley received a children’s book about the wonders of nature. “Since I read that book, I’ve thought about nothing else,” he later reported. “I set about collecting things
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then.” These experiences, coupled with his curiosity and driven nature, foreshadowed the legend he would later become as a businessman. Not long after establishing his shop near the Seattle waterfront, “Standley cultivated a reputation as an astute, if slightly eccentric, businessman; a regional booster and a passionate purveyor of curios,” according to Duncan. He also handed out and mailed homemade postcards extolling the virtues of Seattle, calling it “The New York of the West Coast” or the “Queen City of the Puget Sound.” He regularly wrote letters to newspaper editors, recommending how to further develop the city and increase tourism. He also joined the Seattle Chamber of Commerce, where he regularly weighed in on issues and openly lamented civic apathy. Years later, his grandson, Joe James, would carry on Standley’s commitment to civic involvement through membership in AWB because of his concerns about “health care, taxes and business regulations,” according to Joe’s son, Andy James, the current president of Ye Olde Curiosity Shop. Within a few years of arriving in Seattle, Standley carved out his niche, selling seashells and Native American relics, like totem poles and masks, as well as “coins, souvenir spoons, rare marine animals and other items,” according to Duncan. Standley was unusual in many ways, especially in his appreciation of Native American culture, art and artifacts. He often visited Native Americans living on the tidal flats north of Spokane Street, buying goods directly from them. Because of Standley’s high regard for Native Americans and his good working relationship with them, no other curio shop could rival his indigenous art selection. Ye Olde Curiosity Shop quickly became a mustsee destination, frequented by locals seeking entertainment and travelers who had heard about the place by word-of-mouth. The shop came to be known as a “free museum”—a label it still carries today. Although the shop moved several times during the ensuing century, it has been on Pier 54, next to Ivar’s restaurant, since 1988. And while a number of Standley’s Native American relics were donated to museums
over the years (including a totem pole sent to the British Museum in London), the shop is still overflowing with spectacular oddities. They have a woven cedar-bark hat that was worn by Chief Seattle and a collection of shrunken heads from the South Pacific. They have so many fascinating pieces of Seattle history that it’s impossible to see them all in one visit. Their most famous resident, an arsenic-embalmed cowboy mummy named Sylvester, has been featured in National Geographic and on several television programs over the years. According to Andy James and his wife, Tammy, Ye Olde Curiosity Shop’s modern customers still come from all points of the compass, just as they did when Daddy Standley and Joe James ran the shop. Like many waterfront stores, the James family depends heavily on tourism. Canadians and visitors arriving on cruise ships are in the shop every day, and many school groups and locals bring visitors to the legendary Seattle landmark. “The shop appeals to a broad market,” said James. “Customers can spend anywhere from 25 cents to several thousand dollars here.” Like Daddy Standley, who had to move his shop many times over the years (once because of the massive Denny Regrade project), the Jameses face challenges related to their waterfront location. Just last year, they had to close their second shop, “Ye Olde Curiosity Shop Too,” also on Pier 54, due to an unmanageable rent increase. There’s also a long-running controversy about the repair, replacement or removal of the traffic-congested Alaskan Way Viaduct, which runs directly in front of them. The structure was severely damaged in the 2001 Nisqually earthquake, and, while the Jameses understand that it isn’t viable for the viaduct to stay the way it is, they are naturally in favor of whatever option has the least negative impact on their business. “We definitely don’t want the rebuild that takes seven years,” Andy said.
Instead, they support a deep-bore tunnel, which would allow the viaduct to be used until the tunnel is finished. So far, no decision has been made, but whatever is done will directly affect their business and the businesses around them. Knowing that, they have expanded and diversified their business to include a new fair-trade store in Seattle’s Ballard neighborhood.
Blurring the lines The concept behind the store was largely influenced by a trip that the Jameses took to Thailand with their two teenage sons in 2006. During the trip, they traveled to a remote hilltop village and spent about $500 on goods made by the local residents. Their original plan was to sell the items at Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, but when Tammy and Andy heard from the villagers that revenue from their purchases would pay for 50 children to attend school for an entire year, the Jameses were touched and inspired. After returning home, Tammy immediately began researching fair trade. On Nov. 8, 2007, the family purchased a 2,500-square-foot building on Ballard’s Market Street and, on the day after Thanksgiving, after a whirlwind of paperwork and preparations, they opened it as Market Street Traders. According to FINE, an informal association of four leading fair-trade networks, “Fair trade is a trading partnership, based on dialogue, transparency and respect, which seeks greater equity in international trade.” Those involved in the fair trade movement are most concerned with creating opportunities for under-represented workers in third-world countries. In recent years, the media has covered this movement by highlighting the work of people like Bono and his wife, Ali Hewson, who started a designer fair-trade clothing line called Edun. While their high-profile work is important to note, it is only a small reflection of the growing “philanthropreneur” movement that blurs the line between philanthropy Photo courtesy of Kate Duncan/University of Washington Press
Joe “Daddy” Standley with some of his curios at Ye Olde Curiosity Shop in the early 20th century.
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Photo by Daniel Brunell/AWB
Andy and Tammy James stand in front of their newest shop, Market Street Traders, in Seattle’s Ballard neighborhood.
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and business. Other businesses, such as eBay and Google have also become involved. These businesses operate with a double bottom line of fiscal performance and positive social impact, meaning that their desire to make positive changes in the world relies heavily on the speed and efficiency of capitalism. Whether the merchandise is silk scarves made by Indian women, handcarved Kenyan soapstone figures, or telephone-wire bracelets made by Zulu men, there is a story behind everything sold at Market Street Traders. And, like Daddy Standley, the Jameses still buy directly from Native American and other artists to stock Ye Olde Curiosity Shop. Market Street Traders also sells delectable fair-trade items like homemade fudge and coffee in their new in-store café, which reinvests a portion of their profit as microloans. They also hope to open a nonprofit center on the vacant floor above them. Although still in the conceptual phase, Tammy is hoping to collaborate with her best friend, a school principle in Sitka, Alaska, on developing a global education venture. This would include reaching out to local high schools and teaching students economics by managing microloans to underprivileged individuals and communities. “That way, kids can learn how to invest and really see their money at work as they help other people,” Tammy said. Tammy is passionate and hopeful about the possibilities the new venture presents. Her customers are enthusiastic, too. “A lot of people have stopped by the new store to say, ‘Thank you. We needed a place like this,’” Tammy said. As the James family looks toward their future, they are acutely aware of their connection to the adventurous spirit of Daddy Standley—the curious businessman who started it all. “I think that he’d be proud of us,” Tammy said, as she adjusted the position of a hand-carved, olivewood nativity scene from Bethlehem. “With our new store, we’ve stayed true to his character by giving back.”