You should know by now my penchant for anything used, worn and slightly junky in the home décor department. The majority of my apartment furniture is a collection of forgotten curbside relics.

The Dundas West strip in the Junction is therefore happy land for me, a place strewn with salvage shops and even a few new furniture stores.

Mark Taaffe’s latest venture, World Headquarters, is the newest addition to a constellation of funky shops on the street — and it rocks my world.

Taaffe, a long-time dealer and auctioneer, opened his store less than two months ago. He’s a quirky guy selling equally quirky stuff. His turn-of-phrase would blow away even the electric verbiage of Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

He shows me mimeographs of revised Chinese telegraphic code from 1946: apparently “favourite” or “partial to” translates to “5106.”

I’m rather 5106 to the fact that the charming and slightly bombastic Taaffe has a story to tell about everything I pick up or ask about.
There’s the Victorian luck wreath, which Taaffe dubs a “higher home craft” and “basic décor trading unit.” Its chenille and tinsel horseshoe-shaped U framed in a large shadowbox and to be distinguished from the more popular ones made of human hair says — a detail we both find slightly creepy.

Another wordly thing about this place: no price tags and a willingness to give deals if you buy several items or lots of similar items.

Old wood printing blocks are $5–12 each but Taaffe would prefer to sell them en masse for $125 — those auction days obviously still call to him. Wallpaper from the 1970s — verbose silver glittery stuff with a 1920s feel — is going for $40 for all 5 rolls.

There are tiny folk art chairs with velveteen seats made from old tin cans that Taaffe thinks are Mexican, a paper maché snuff box, a carved wood box hat says “A Mary Christmas to You” built circa 1890 and a framed photocopied cheque from Kaplan’s Creamery with “Mrs. Kaplan gave you $200. You are getting $1500 more than is coming to you. You can’t come back for more” written on and around it.

This is the stuff of novels, in my humble junker’s opinion, except we’re not talking about junk. What makes all these objects vitally interesting and so much more than mere junk are the stories and histories behind them. Taaffe isn’t just a dealer and auctioneer: he’s a veritable social historian of stuff, a collector of customs.

Large acrylic and oil paintings by local artist Andrew Plum — a pal and mentor to Taaffe — hang from the walls. The shop also sells new and used lamps by Jieldé from France — what Taaffe refers to as “the ubiquitous lamp of the rich” — that can be ordered new and in practically every colour with a turn around time of about 6 weeks.

Taaffe won’t be trading in his auctioneer’s call for price tags anytime soon as he’s planning his first in-store auction on Monday, June 8 starting at 6:30 p.m.

2885 Dundas St. West, 416-333-8078

Dash it all, I can’t believe I haven’t checked out Smash yet. Taaffe kindly arranges for a brief intro to owner Paul Mercer, who opened his architectural salvage shop a year ago across the street from the business he used to co-own with Doug Killaly called Post & Beam Reclamation (a shop I wrote about several years ago).

Also home to the Jerome Jenner gallery, the large narrow space with exposed brick walls houses everything from massive old Winston fridges shipped all the way from Argentina to smaller industrial fare such as cast aluminum hat forms and porcelain glove moulds.

The day I visit, the place is abuzz with activity. Old bowling alley lanes are being hauled into the basement and a people are tweaking a beautifully clad table for a fundraising event that evening.

Speaking of events I hear the store’s parties rock. I vow to get myself on the guest list for the next one.
There are some big-ticket items here, like a wrought iron gate front, $1,850 and an old two-seater Vespa for $1,250 — price tags are on virtually everything.

Project coordinator and general everything girl Dana Francis shows me a trio of old medicine balls Mercer recently acquired in Boston. The porcelain glove moulds, $35 each, are stained blue — Mercer likes the non-pristine look, Francis tells me, and I appreciate the sentiment. Old mirrored apothecary bottles with glass stoppers are $85 each.

There are hoards of retro 1960s and 70s wallpaper rolls, $10 for one, in huge splashy orange and avocado floral prints.

I love the spidery sprinkler handles, $5 each.

New books on décor and design To Each his Home about inspired interiors, $59, is on my wish list.

2880 Dundas St. West, 416-762-3113 www.smash.to.