"Some Very Winning Europeans" (European Movie Stars in Life Magazine, 1963)

Good afternoon!

Hope you're not melting, melting in this late summer heatwave--I'm trying to stay cool here at the downtown library, but it's not easy! Lots of work to do today, but I wouldn't leave you hanging...check out this article from 1963 Life magazine on exciting European film stars of the time. Ugh, I just wanted to be Jeanne Moreau when I was sixteen, and I love her happy, smiling jolie-laide face across the page from my boyfriends Peter O'Toole and Richard Burton. Read up on some more familiar names (Sophia Loren, Marcello Mastroianni, Claudia Cardinale. the painfully gorgeous Romy Schneider) and some less (Jules Dassin's wife Melina Mercouri, Maximillian Schell, Bergman star Bibi Anderssen, and how did a pre-Dr. Zhivago Omar Sharif sneak in?), and I've even thrown in some interview clips from the time period for good measure. Spoiler alert: European film stars sometimes give interviews in European languages, but even if you don't speak the language spoken, I hope you enjoy seeing real live interviews from the early 1960's (think about what a thing that was before E! and Entertainment Tonight!)

I gotta skedaddle, but have a great Tuesday! Lord willing I'll be back tomorrow with some more vintage coverage for your viewing pleasure.

                              

          

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New Perspective on Color (1952 Interiors)

Hi-ya, folks!

Sorry to have been MIA most of today-- I've been snowed under at work! At one o'clock, some fellow library employees and I moved the nonfiction desk to its temporary home a couple hundred feet from where the old one was on the third floor, and I'm telling you, the calamity and clamor of it all. Plus, we were internetless for about two hours (which is the same as saying we didn't have oxygen to breathe in this, our twenty-first century)...anyway, "there was an earthquake. A terrible flood. Locusts! IT WASN'T MY FAULT, I SWEAR TO GOD!" but I'm here now, and don't I have a delicious little slice of the 1952 interior decorating pie to share with you. 

Come! Look! Let's start with this Dorothy Draper hunk of GORGEOUS:

Caption: "Feminine bedroom in nostalgic colors"

Yep, I was sitting at the desk without my internet, flipping through the March 1952 issue of your-favorite-magazine-and-mine, House and Garden, when spots appeared before my eyes-- and not just because I'd slugged what felt like a tureen of coffee just before reporting to my post. We've talked about Dorothy Draper before, because she's in my top five all time greatest decorators hall of fame, but if she wasn't already, this room would nominate her for that prestigious list. This article, awkwardly entitled "This Spring, It's the Light, Bright Look", features eight designs by world-renowned interior design experts of the time on how to use C-O-L-O-R to spruce up your digs for spring. I, for one, now want to put all the furniture out on the lawn and start from scratch. Isn't that what a really beautiful living room or kitchen does to you? Just makes you want to live in that picture of what your life could look like?

Draper is well-known for her splashy, feminine, whimsical designs, and as you can see, this room is no exception. From the text:

Dorothy Draper likes... cherry-bark, forget-me-not blue, heliotrope, white. She suggests a white chintz with cherry-bark polka dots for curtains and upholstery, forget-me-not blue ceiling, and heliotrope carpeting.

And I suggest that I drop everything this weekend to make my own bedroom look like this, however tiny it may be in comparison.  The colors again:

As I start singing some mournful, aching love song in the Otis Redding school to this palette. YES.

But the celebrity designers don't stop at Draper. Look at this sunny, rambling, just-so room, and guess what former silent film star designed it:

"Ranch living-dining room in western colors"

For your information:

William Haines likes... "natural" colors, beige, gray-green. He suggest a raw wood ceiling, polished brick floor, sand-gold walls, beige curtains. Against this background: eucalyptus chintz, gray-green accents.

Yep, my best friend Joan Crawford's best friend Billy Haines, from their days in silent pictures on the MGM lot, designed this room. I really love the mixture of prints and shapes and colors. Just think of the well-heeled young professional couple looking to build their indoors-outdoors modern Southwestern house and incorporating both the masculinity of the cowhide rug and raw wood ceiling with the garden-party pattern of the eucalyptus print sofa. Can you just see me stretched out reading my spooky comic books on my stomach on that rug, listening happily along as Matthew writes a brilliant new tune on the piano? I can! That would be the life, right there.

"Living room in earth tones"

William Pahlman is another big name in midcentury decorating, and he designed the room above. It's funny that this looks the most dated of the bunch, but to more like 1966 than 1951. So technically, far ahead of its time! 

William Pahlman likes...oyster white, Mustard, Driftwood. He uses a plaid that combines these three colors for curtains and a chair, picks up the Driftwood for another chair, the Mustard for carpeting. Deep oyster walls, pale oyster ceiling.

That last line sounds like something from a Jim Morrison spoken word poem. Isn't it interesting how matter-of-fact paint colors used to be? While my eye can differentiate between Sherwin Williams' "Everyday White", "Simple White", and "Gauzy White", I am irritated by the fact of having to. Shouldn't that name be descriptive of a thing in the world that that color corresponds to? Am I asking too much? Oysters, mustard, and driftwood all have colors! I love the potted cacti and the way the furniture is arranged with regard to but not around the fireplace.

"Lanai room with quiet background"

 Do you know somebody actually called the library about two weeks ago to ask me what a "lahn yay" was? I hadn't heard of the term and couldn't find anything to save my life, until she added that it "was what the girls on The Golden Girls were always calling the patio". Ahhhhhh. That google autocorrected me to "do you mean Golden Girls lanai?", which led me to this message board (note to self: explore Golden Girls message board at length later), which led me to this definition: "la·na·i (ləˈnäē,ləˈnī), noun. a porch or veranda." At least I know how to spell it now. What this guy says you should do with it:

John B. Wisner likes...gray-beige, white, and Bitter Green. In a glass-enclosed lanai room he uses gray-beige for walls, ceiling, and rug. Curtains and floor are white. For accent: Bitter green sofa.

Speaking of bitter, I am still feeling that emotion over the fact that my parents took down the wrought iron supports and covering over our 1954 back patio  lanai sometime in the mid-80's. Maybe I can convince them to put it back up again now that their vintage loving daughter lives there! If wishes were fishes...

"Town sitting room with bold colors"

This is one of my favorites from this spread. The gold, white, orange, and pink remind me of something a thirties' star would have in their 1960's city apartment they bought with their television appearances money. It's elegant at the same time as it's loud and glamorous.

Melanie Kahane likes...orange, pink, and black plus white. She uses the first two as striped carpeting under a pink ceiling. Upholstery is tweed flecked with orange, black, and white.

Why don't people have rugs or carpets in solid stripes like this anymore? I didn't even notice it until it was mentioned in that passage, but it's a really fun, funky kind of floor covering choice. Sign me up! The couch and the throw pillows may be the star of this set-up for me, though.

"White dining room with sharp color"

Judy Garland's outburst over her Parisian friend who drags her to a hairdresser, in that adorable little monologue from Judy at Carnegie, is a good description for this room. Replace "woman" with "room" and keep all the emphasis:  "A woman who is so chic! She's so, chic, you can't stand it. She's a darling, marvelous woman, she's just so chic." How she feels about that native of France, so do I feel about this room. Black candelabras and lavender candle sticks and crystal for miles! Green and white dining room chairs! That wall planter above the sofa! Well, let's get a look at what we're talking about here:

Stedman-Harris likes...lots of white with sharp accents. They suggest white walls, ceiling, curtains, and slip covers. Accents are in malachite green, magenta pink, royal blue. On the floor: Chinese matting.

Bust. My. Buttons. Chinese matting, huh? Even without the grand proportions of this room, I may have to institute the same in my den, if it can be recreated on the cheap. Wow!

"City bedroom in pastels and bright accents"

 How do you like that headboard? And the pink peeking out from stage right?

Tammis Keefe likes...grays with cerise and turquoise. She matches the walls to a pale gray cotton carpet, adds an ink-gray bedspread. Turquoise and cerise point up this scheme.

Those turquoise curtain and that palette are really neat. Again, if they could just show me a few things in a normal ceiling-height room, I would appreciate it. Outside of a cookie-cutter McMansion or a prewar brownstone, where are you getting these ceilings, people? I'll forgive you if you let me have that 10 foot lacquer Asian cabinet over to the side there, even if I don't have anywhere large scale enough to put it.

Last but not least:

"Country library in bright hues"

And the award for most eccentrically named decorator goes to:

Zelina Brunschwig likes...persimmon-red, grays, and yellow-green. Against deep gray walls, pale gray ribbed carpeting, she suggests orange tweed upholstery. Curtains are a yellow-green flowered chintz.

The picture I took of the magazine illustration doesn't show it very well, but this is a really neat room, especially with those revolutionary soldier red, lipstick red, whatever you want to call them red sofas (I guess I defer to Zelina from now on and call it "persimmon"). At any rate, lovely!

So! Tell me what you think about these rooms! Which do you want to bring wholesale into your own home? Which color palette appeals to you the most? Should I adopt a 10 foot lacquer cabinet and polka dot drapes and Chinese matting into my current home? The heart says yes, but your input is always welcome. :)

Well, kiddlings, I have to scoot! This is the latest post ever!! I have about another hour here at the book farm and then we're off to dinner at a friend's-- I am excited about having after work plans that don't involve my ongoing war with the fitness equipment at the downtown Y (it wants me to get in shape, my body wants to continue being out of shape, I want to get in shape...surely the majority will prevail!). Have a great night, and I'll talk to you tomorrow. Til then!

Look What Santa Could, Should, MUST Bring! (1951 Children's Toys)

Good afternoon!

I didn't forget about you today, but whoooo-eee have things been busy at the library. We've moved on past most of the renovations on the one side of the building, and Metro Archives is in its new home on the third floor, but the reference division is still being carpeted in bits and pieces and wow, there have been a lot of reference questions in the 1-3 shift. However, I'm back at my desk now, and though it is covered in poor, pitiful books in need of repair, I thought I would take a moment to tell you about my finds for the day. Subject? Toys, toys, and MORE toys!

I've been working through House and Garden 1951 volumes and the thing that stopped me in my tracks this morning was the spread they did in November, anticipating their readership's 1951 Christmas season buying habits. TO BE A CHILD OF THE MODERATELY WELL TO-DO TO AFFLUENT IN 1951! The sky seemed to be the limit in this spread of what Santa should bring good little girls and boys as they prepare for life as a child in 1952. Let's look:

The article starts out sedately enough with a number of baby doll and traditional girl toys, such as this Alice in Wonderland doll-- as the Disney movie had just come out in July of this year, there were other Lewis Carroll themed gewgaws throughout the spread of equal cuteness. I'm partial to the Swiss chalet and its tiny little folk furnishings, but that's mainly because I like anything tiny and impractical and folksy. Look at the little hope chest, the wardrobe, the canopied bed, BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, those spindly little dining room chairs. [PS chairs call me]

Now take a look at what may be my favorite, the "Ring N Buzz" switchboard:

COULD YOU DIE. There's a whole subgenre of  toys, the "vocational toy", that I feel like aren't as popular or don't exist anymore on the children's toy market-- a Fisher Price vacuum of 2014, for example, can't hold a candle to this 1966 practically the real deal model (though this Dirt Devil does seem to come close). But do you really think a red blooded American child in the 21st century is going to ask for a vacuum for Christmas? Speaking as a confirmed weirdenstein from birth, I can say with confidence that I would have wanted this switchboard set as a child, and STILL want one to this day! My grandmother held a job for about a year in the forties' as a switchboard operator for the phone company in Massachusetts, and I can see a tiny me trying to emulate her/Lily Tomlin with a victory roll and this set to guide me. "Number, please?" Though it's been through some stuff, you can see a version of it below from Ebay...isn't it thrilling that it would work in those pre-battery, pre-everything-singing-at-you toy days?

VINTAGE TIN Toy Telephone Old Fashioned SWITCHBOARD PLASTIC RING A PHONE 

There's something adorable about a miniature version of anything realistic, right? How about this real aluminum grill? Can you imagine the Ward Cleaver dad showing the overjoyed five year old how to properly light a grill while practicing fire safety, and giving them the responsibility of one little hamburger patty to cook? This blows the Easy Bake Oven right out of the water. "Honey? Junior's making shish kebabs for dinner!" Not putting much of a premium on not getting your kids eyebrows burned off or worse, but act like you would not be the most over the moon seven year old ever to receive this next to the Christmas tree on December 25, 1951 (size alone prevents it from going under said tree). Another thought, though-- you wouldn't be able to use this until like five months after you bought it, unless you live in a sunny climate, in which case you would have been triply blessed as a fifties' child-- grill, indulgent/incautious parents, great weather. I am jealous.

The next toy's caption reads "Auto Road teaches driving fundamentals, works by remote control. $26, Playhouse." This does not feel like near enough information. Also, notice the Disney licensed White Rabbit photo bombing my clipping. "HI!"

Do you spot in the above montage a weirdly realistic horse on wheels, a Dream Pets kangaroo,  and a giraffe I'd like to get for Christmas? I know I do! I was about to applaud how "normal" most of these dolls and stuffed animals look until I came across the following two panels:

Uh.....um....so I think I'm looking at stuffed toy vegetables with a p-r-e-t-t-y good representation of the produce department here in attendance. The two that bother me the most? The pea pod (WHY DO YOU HAVE THREE HEADS WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT) and the asparagus, the latter of which should really be in his own David Lynch production of Asparagushead (giving Jack Nance a run for his money in hair height and creeping horror). I like how the cricket is like "Pleased ta meetcha! Let me introduce you to some of the things I would like to eat! Mr. Eggplant...yep, looking delicious. Better if you were a couple weeks old though. Lady Carrot Face, where have you been all my life? Onion Man, my main man!" etc, etc. Wholly disturbing. Iiiiii love it.

Ok, this next piece comes with a story. I was interested in whether or not the delightfully named "Susie Keane's Puppeteens" was in any way related to the famous Keanes of the "Big Eyes" school of art, and then went, naaaah, that was Walter and Margaret Keane. TURNS OUT, Walter and his first wife, Barbara, WERE the people behind these dolls, long before the second wife and Walter gained fame as waif portraitists. From Wikipedia:

His wife Barbara studied cooking at Le Cordon Bleu, and also studied dress design in various Couturier Houses in Paris. When they returned to their home in Berkeley, began an educational toy business called "Susie Keane's Puppeteens", teaching children to speak French through the use of handmade puppets, phonograph records, and a book. The "ballroom" of their large home became an assembly line of hand painted "wide eyed" wooden puppets, with various intricately made costumes. The puppets were sold in high-end stores like Saks Fifth Avenue.

Wow, right? And for the curious, $13 in 1951 was about $115 in today's money. Not cheap, folks! Not cheap!

Here's a wild west town with all the trimmings...I love the cabin to the right:

And a book about animals in cages that is actually shaped like a cage! I appreciate that they chose these cutie white mice to use as the main example. I am secretly hoping there's a lizard in the back of this book.

At the back of the book, there were a rash of paid advertisements, in classified type listings, for other toys directly from the manufacturer. The most disturbing of which, naturally, I've reproduced for you here. Including, but not limited to:

This eerie "put your face on a paper doll!" set sounds a little like the My Twinn and American Girl doubles you can make today, but in paper doll format, which makes it the weirder for thinking of a photograph of my head on an illustrated child's body. I'm not going to knock it til I try it (and believe me, I do want to have like my head on Lana Turner's body in my Christmas stocking, because come ON)...but I will say the rhetoric of the second ad, in particular, is slasher-film-esque:

"My Twin Doll Looks Just Like Me: The living image of your own child" might be the title and subtitle of an episode of the Twilight Zone, OR it might be the ad copy that this My Twin Doll Company ad man came up with as the best representation of his product to the public at large. "Haunts my dreams while I sleep!" or "Comes alive at night!" were rejected for obvious reasons.

Another, far too large doll (and with that creepy, Dutch milkmaid face no less):

But the kicker of all the doll ads is Sandy. And if you read the ad, you will know why:

And I reiterate, the ad portrays this Rapunzel like infant as saying "Hello! I'm Sandy! I drink I wet I sleep and you can WAVE MY HAIR! I have RUBBER WONDERSKIN!" Rubber wonderskin, right from the rough draft journals of Stephen King. I understand that all these things are important selling points in the mind of a 1950's consumer, as you do want a baby doll to do as many things as possible, but good Lord. "You can...make her stand, walk, and sleep." No comment, just horrifying.

And last but not least, the Benedict Arnold of 1950's toy dolls, and a commentary on the futility of the Indian Wars, no doubt:

Steve Adams turns into Straight Arrow...or does Straight Arrow turn into Steve Adams? The mystery was solved with this entry in an Old Time Radio website and the truth of the matter has apparently been misconstrued over the years! In 1948, Shredded Wheat sponsored a kids' Western called "Straight Arrow", starring:

a Comanche Indian named Straight Arrow, who disguised himself as Steve Adams (note the same initials), the owner of the Broken Bow cattle spread. His secret identity was known only to his grizzled side-kick, Packy McCloud...When this adventure program debuted, Straight Arrow, like Superman before him, began his series as an adult, with the "origin story" of his childhood to follow. (However, unlike the Man of Steel, the origin story of the Comanche warrior never aired.)

So this tie-in toy would make no sense to anyone who actually listened to the series, which ended in June of 1951. Still, please buy these dolls! We have a whole warehouse full of them! If only the series had been more popular!

ANYWAY, I gotta go finish up some stuff before I get out of here in this last hour of work, but do tell me what you think! Which toy would you actually no-lie like to have as an adult? Which would have thrilled you the most as a kid? Seen any vintage toys that left you scratching your head either for safety or sheer surrealism reasons? What's the last kid's collectible you added to your collection? I'd love to know!

That's all for today, but I'll see you tomorrow (and hopefully earlier!) for more vintage tips and tangents. Have a great Wednesday night! Til then.

Vintage Natural Prints for Your Vintage Natural Home (House and Garden,1951)

Good morning!

Well, we've almost made it to a particularly nice holiday-- fourth of July, bayBEE! Are you ready to get down? Matthew and I joined the downtown Y this past week and I'm thinking of taking advantage of their rooftop pool area tomorrow, asserting my independence by sunning these poor, glow-in-the-dark gams and chillaxing in the most literal, 21st century God love it sense of the word. How about you? Got big plans?

As for today's blog entry, I've moved on four years forward in my daily perusal of mid century bound periodicals down here at the Nashville Public Library...progress! The 1951 House and Garden is just as fabulous as the 1947 issues I've already finished...it's interesting to see how much more spare and less figural the mid-century movement went as it began to pick up speed in the early fifties'. I love them both! However, the march of progress stopped for a moment in this, the (I think?) February issue of 1951 to show us these AMAZING nature-inspired textiles. 

Nothing new under the sun, right? Doesn't it look like something you would see in an Urban Outfitters apartment spread, or at least Pier One? The article, entitled "Outdoors by the Yard", asks me in the very opening line, "Why not liven your rooms with new fabrics that were inspired by the fascinating colors, textures and patterns of American flora and fauna?" I say, "Why DON'T I liven my rooms with new fabrics inspired by the fascinating colors, textures and patterns of American flora and fauna?" I believe this to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, House and Garden. 

Here's the original text of the intro (apologies for the warped dimension, these bound periodicals are bound tightly which leads to minimal "bend" or give to the actual spine):

The Cheney Brothers, a silk manufacturing firm that opened up shop in Connecticut in the 1830's (yes, EIGHTEEN thirties'...wow, right?), distributed these hand-printed textiles in 1951, and while House and Garden shows us five of the delightful outdoors-indoors designs, the original collection apparently boasted twenty two (to which I say, hey! Where's the rest of my designs?!). The caption across from the mushroom print reads:

Six dollars a yard in 1951 adds up to $53/yd in 2014 money, so these are no cheap chintzes...but how cute! Below, a designer incorporates the fabric as long drapes in this cozy, early-American-meets-modern looking room .

Doesn't this next pattern, called "Roots", look like something out of the Rankin-Bass Hobbit movie? It is SO late 1970's to me, and yet, here we are, 1951, with the inspiration cozied up next to the print it inspired.

I like the idea of treating these neutral-color prints as you would a beige (because no one hates beige or greige with quite the passion that I hate beige and griege-- get some creativity going, contemporary designers!). The room they incorporated the roots print into is so dramatic without looking "off". How about that huge colonial bench/chair hyprid and long, low daybed? YES. And? PLEASE.

Lichen was probably my favorite word I learned in some long ago elementary school wildlife class-- I would liken (ahahaha) lichen to the word "khaki"-- each pronounced sounds so much more appealing than it does in written form. The botanist level detail in this print is what makes it so neat-- from a distance, you would think this was a regular mid century abstract print of brown, taupe, and white smudges, but up close, the fungus/algae makes itself known!

Notice in the room illustration they've done what they mentioned in the caption-- the wall of windows to the right end at that corner, but the designer has continued on with the drapes into the wall to create this moody fabric installation that makes the room look proportionate

.

I might actually have a maxi-dress from the early 70's in this same color scheme-- can you believe how later-in-the-century these dandelions look?

This room, for its duo-chromatic scheme, looks the most  dated to me-- I would rather have the exact everything and white wall to keep it from looking too 1968. But think about that-- in 1951, this room looks particularly like what you would see in a style book in 1968. Forward thinking, if nothing else! Also, that couch though.

Last but not least, we've already aired the confession that I didn't know what a sandpiper was, exactly, until my mother-in-law pointed them out in a seventies' textile art hanging I have in my den, here at She Was a Bird. I have a lot to learn and have not yet finished learning about birds, apparently-- I thought for sure these were sandpipers, but they're referred to in the caption as "Sanderlings". Wha? From Wikipedia:

The sanderling (Calidris alba) is a small wading bird. It is a circumpolar Arctic breeder, and is a long-distance migrant, wintering south to South America, South Europe, Africa, and Australia. It is highly gregarious in winter, sometimes forming large flocks on coastal mudflats or sandy beaches. 

It is somewhat unlike other sandpipers in appearance.

Well! There you go. I wish they'd put this in color instead of the dandelion pattern, as this is the one I like the best and which has the poorest representation in the spread:

And, hands down award for my favorite room, this one. Anchored by the MCM light fixture, and featuring mid-window to floor cafe curtains for when you need light, and the sanderling textile in long panel drapes for when you don't, I am loving the Picasso-esque wall hanging and the skinny, architectural looking chairs and table. One of each! Thanks!

Ugh, anyway, I now want to go out and buy a ton of patterned curtains (I can't! My furniture's not neutral enough! Choose one or the other, Lisa!). What about you? Do you love these nature inspired prints? What do you think about their avant the garde style? Which decorated room is your favorite? Let's gab about 1951's sense of interior design!!

That's all for today, but I'm back for a special holiday Photo Friday. Have a great Thursday, we're almost to the weekend! Talk to you tomorrow.