Flare for collectables: Ian Ballis at his Mill Markets in Geelong.
Andrew Mathieson
WEARING a red shirt so vintage that its huge collar peaks over a fading tan leather jacket is typically Ian Ballis’s trademark.
He lives the groovy threads akin to a mantra from a bygone era.
Only when briefly pulling out a ringing iPhone from the jacket is there a distinction Ian’s still living in 2010.
“I’ve got a real thing for old leather jackets,” he bursts out.
“I appreciate the work that has gone into them.
“I don’t think I have paid over $10 for any of the jackets.
“I just rotate them in my wardrobe but I also like to hand them down or just keep them as a part of history.”
The 45-year-old’s latest find has been locked away in a few dusty Melbourne warehouses since the 1960s still in pristine condition.
The excitement in his voice doesn’t wane for a second.
“I have brand new pants, never worn and still got the tag on them,” Ian boasts, “so I have to either lose weight or put more on just to wear some of them.”
Ian has turned hoarding into a decent living.
There is no shame in the second-hand wares that built Mill Markets’ small fortune.
Scrounging through abandoned houses, digging up backyards, even scuba diving has been his modus operandi for decades.
“I’m a little bit of a hoarder,” Ian utters.
“I’ve still got my first present that nanna gave me.”
After that it was an innocent collection of stamps, coins and bottles but his collection didn’t remain innocent.
Everything from cafe milkshake makers and coffee machines to enamel advertising signs filled up his family’s shed.
When mum and dad ordered Ian to clear the clutter out, he made a cool $400 from the garage sale.
“That was a lot of money 30 years ago for a 14-year-old – you could buy, like, 20 girlfriends,” Ian grins.
That was when the entrepreneur was really born.
“There were old houses out at Waurn Ponds that were just left untouched. Like, there were sixpences on the table, clothes in the wardrobe and the farmers would tell us just clear it all out,” he tells, “so we’d do house watches as kids and bring them all back on our bikes.”
The best way to find collectables was advertising to buy old tobacco tins.
People would invite Ian into their homes but he recalls never buying one.
Somehow he managed to scramble into their garage and leave with a workbench or a classic car.
“Sometimes you’d even buy an old house – I got a house once for $20,000,” Ian nods.
The best buy was from a garage sale in Geelong West when he bought a writing bureau for $20.
After Ian painstakingly cleaned away speckled paint with wax and fine steel wool, he found a written inscription on the bottom.
Much to his surprise, the sloping desk was presented to a shipwright from the ship Endeavour.
Ian had it appraised at Sotherby’s auction house when 16 years ago the bureau was valued at $37,000.
He would give away his joinery apprenticeship for a professional hoarder when some Sundays he would take home close to $5000 from Camberwell market.
Tables and couches had a big price tag and a long shelf life and soon enough he would even get phone calls from a church asking him to clear 20 pews, sideboards and pulpits.
“I needed a base and all I had was a shed,” Ian says, “so I started with a single-base garage in Shannon Avenue and outgrew that in about a week.”
Next stop was an old Geelong West foundry in Spring Street, then a shop in Pakington Street before turning to a former hardware store in Elizabeth Street when there was never enough space.
These days the man wearing the hippy clobber stands at the top of a name that attracts 4000 visitors a day into its markets.
The million-dollar-a-year turnover comes down to a simple philosophy.
“It has no value unless you have a use for it,” Ian recites.
“If it’s tucked away in your shed, collecting dust, well, it may be nothing to you, but could be worth something to others.”
