Thursday, February 20, 2014

All I Want is Home (Shaped Purse) Somewhere (1970's Craft Purses)

Good morning!

We are inching towards the weekend on this Thursday work day...did you fellow Nashvillians hear that Jim Cantore from the Weather Channel is in town? THIS IS NOT GOOD NEWS. The cold and the warm weather fronts are threatening to mix it up later today, to the point that we're in a severe weather warning riiiight about the time I get out of the library downtown. Nerts to that, I say. I parked in the garage here (as opposed to the free lot in LP Field) as an extra precaution, but I'm sure we'll make it one way or the other. If my house doesn't get blown away to Oz, that is!

Speaking of houses, I've been looking at the CUTEST purses on Etsy and Ebay lately. I was originally trying to find a needlepoint pattern for this purse, which, though sold, is possibly the most darling thing I have ever seen in lo, these twenty-eight years on planet earth:

Could you DIE it's so cute?
As I continued combing through listings with the search terms "vintage house purse", I saw about a dozen OTHER purses, these done in a much more doable for me painted and decoupaged style, that are just the kind of real estate I'm in the market for. Want to see what I saw?

Funky Little Hand Made "House" Purse

What's neat about THIS purse, for example, is that I'm sure it looks exactly like the house the girl who made it lived in at that time in the seventies'. Look at the little shingles on the roof, the cross hatched windows, and the sliding glass doors in the back that would have gone out onto a patio. These whimsical little creations inspire in me the same thrill miniature doll house furniture would have twenty years ago-- but look! It has a semi-practical application! I can haul around my lipstick and gloves and cell phone and bank card in it!

Purse Vintage Wood Box Purse House 1970s
I love how representative of the seventies' fiercely proto DIY craft scene these purses are. While my mom wasn't much interested crafts (she was more of a baker), almost everybody I knew in high school had a mom with a teenage past that included making macrame purses, ceramic cookie jars, painted panels of nature landscapes... if there was even an inkling of artistic temperament in these women, they put on a Joni Mitchell record and set about the business of hand-crafting some great, hand tooled leather purse or needle-pointed thicket of thistles. "Oh, that?" they'd say, as me and my gal friends ooh'd or aah'd over some seventies', fringed and embroidered jacket in a photo album, "I made that. I used to embroider stuff for people all the time." At a time in the late nineties' when embroidered jeans were as hot as they were exactly thirty years earlier, they might as well have said they could effortless conjure spirits or play Rachmaninoff-- if you are secretly gifted at this, why wouldn't you be doing it all day, all the time, 24/7?!  Us: "WHERE IS THAT JACKET NOW?!" They: "Oh, it got torn or thrown away or given away, I'm sure, that was a hundred years ago." Le sigh.

Vintage Wooden House Purse - Folkart House Hand Bag - 1970's Wooden House Purse - Folkart Box Purse
Another thing brought to mind was how neat, in a pre-social media world, it would be to make one of these crazy things and take it to school on Monday morning like "Yeah, Tina and I were over at Jessie's house and we all decided to make these decoupaged purses in the shape of our actual houses. How long did it take us? Ahhh, about five Joni Mitchell records. Maybe a little longer." [Time was computed in the seventies' in Joni Mitchell record lengths]. That the idea had to come from a magazine or another one you saw, and that the volition to do it would have nothing to do with how many likes you would get when it was done, is such a dear thought to me.

Check out the little blue bird of happiness above the window on this "Happy House", the floral accents, and that the house itself is winking at you from the west side of the structure.

Vintage Novelty Happy House Log Cabin Wooden Handmade Purse
Vintage Wooden Dollhouse Purse
The one above is heavily shellac'd, but look how well it's stood up as a result of that. I noticed some on Etsy, which I just didn't share in this post, that were probably brought into being by the less artistically accomplished of those seventies' girl artists-- it was funny looking at one or two like, "Huh? Is that...is that a window or part of the tree?" I bet that's what mine would look like! I would start out with these grand aspirations and end up with one of those houses that looks condemned in the lower end of the Zillow search scale.

Look at the pine tree looming over the roof in this one! The girl that made this one was actually VERY TALENTED:
Vintage Wood Box Purse of House
The 3D door and window boxes and plant on this one are especially nice touches, not to mention the formerly-a-necklace? bird and nest over the door:
Whimsical Hand Painted Wood House Handbag c 1970

Simple, but professional:
VINTAGE WOOD PAINTED HOUSE PATRIOTIC HANDBAG PURSE

And one of the best/weirdest ones-- while I saw several that were shaped like buildings-other-than-houses (a general store, a one room school house, other appropriately vintage and sentimental settings), this one just slew me. "The American Opinion Bookstore"-- this artist made a bookstore specializing in politics, complete with their sweet ride parked out back of the building! Click the link to see the other two sides, this purse really is BURSTING with personality (PURSEsonality? Oooooh, so bad...).
VINTAGE VERY RARE 1960's USA AMERICAN House Wood Box Purse PATRIOTIC Handbag
Well! I have to wrap up a few things before I meet a friend down here for lunch (grape leaves, watch out! We're coming for you!), but let's talk! Do you have any purses like this in your collection? Have you made or known someone who made one of these back in the day? Which one are you ready to put a down payment on if it's available for immediate occupancy? I'd love to hear your thoughts! :)

Have a great Thursday, pray that the tornadoes don't blow us off the map, and God willing, I'll see you tomorrow for Photo Friday! Take care til then.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Coat(s) of Many Colors (Vintage Sixties' Coat Addiction)

Good morning!

Isn't it GORGEOUS outside, kids? My foot went right through one of the toes of my tights this morning, and as I tossed the traitorous pair of leggings, I thought-- why not go barelegged today? It's gonna be 70 something by noon! I put on a pair of black flats and one of my brightest print Hawaiian dresses to greet the day. I know we're going back in to the colder double digits next week, but by golly, why not enjoy this sunshine while we can.

To celebrate a day no-coats-would-be-worn, I thought I might show you a few of the winter wear selections I've been wearing lately. Usually, I just wear my one, good, black wool dress coat to living death, but this year, I've been trying really hard to wear some of the excessive number of colored wool coats stashed in my office's coat closet. Also, I got rid of maybe five coats, which was like cutting my own heart out of my body, but I have to admit, it's nice to be able to reach into the closet and effortlessly pull out a piece of clothing! Before, the struggle  to free a coat or find the one you wanted was almost more effort than braving the arctic climes!


As long as I have been buying old clothes, and this is stretching back to about eighth grade for me, I have been trying on coats with fur collars. Big ones, short ones, little bitty ones-- print ones, solid ones-- coats with collars of ermine, fox, chinchilla, mink, and faux everything...when I see one of these so-and-so's at the Goodwill, I can't help but try it on. And each time, is it an act of optimism! From the average selection of these coats, you would think most women who owned outerwear like this in the fifties' and sixties' resembled one of those pepper pot women from a New Yorker cartoon, instead of the Suzy Parker young secretary type I have in mind when I hope it will fit. Being tall, it's imperative NOT to wear something tent-like and too short or I look completely crazy-- remember I told you most forties' full length fur coats fall above my knee and make me look like Grizzly Adams? Ditto on fur collar coats. Which is why I was OVER THE MOON to find this lipstick red coat with brown fur collar at the Rivergate Goodwill a year ago, which fit like a glove. Every time I wear it, it feels like I'm stepping out of some midcentury, Jerry Wald produced movie (see: The Best of Everything; rinse, repeat).



Remember when I bought this coat last year at that basement estate sale in Madison? The button it was missing, it is still missing-- but it occurred to me to remove two of the six buttons, and suddenly nothing looks amiss! I love how BRIGHT blue this coat is. I struggle a lot with the temptation to just wear all black, all the time. Or black and one-color-or-pattern. It's my cardinal rule! One, you don't have to worry if things coordinate, they just do; two, the black-and-monochromatic obsession is less of a gothic impluse except in the root Germanic sense of the word. I always, de profundis, want to look like Marlene Dietrich in one of her von Sternberg collaborations, and that means black ostrich feathers on black velvet with a black crepe cape! And maybe a sequined gold mantle, just for fun. You will never see me in green tights with a yellow skirt and a red blouse-- not because I don't love people who can use color in their wardrobe (my sister and my friend Ruthie, both artists and snazzy dressers with a strong hold on "how to use color", come to mind), but because of how uncomfortable I feel without a "grounding" overtone of black in an outfit. Note I am still wearing my black hair tie and my boots in this ensemble, but the blue coat is a big step outside the crayon box for me!


The red coat didn't have a maker's tag (not even a tiny union one...I think it may have been homemade by a very capable seamstress), but this one has "Youthcraft" on a silk label at the nape of the neck.


This green coat I found in Gallatin with Eartha weekend before last-- I was wearing the red coat and tried to hang it on a leaf blower in a garage so I could try it on, but Eartha snatched my already owned coat up from its perch. "I'm gonna keep you classy if it kills me!" she said, and I second guessed my in-the-field tactic of dumping my coat wherever. There were two in the garage of this house, both marked I think $8, but the white one, in a very similar style, had moth's holes. The green one was intact, though heavily rumpled; after a pressing at the cleaner's, it looks good as new! See the crazy, extreme mink collar:


And the moss green color, which reminds me of Tippi Hedren's suit  in The Birds. I can't decide if I like the collar better open or closed-- even though my shoulders aren't very wide, the capelet effect of the collar almost makes it look like it's too small for me when done up:


And ignore the messy flyaways, it had been a hard day's night when we took these pictures...what do you think? Better open or closed?


The only label on this one is this "Hockanum Fabric" by Stevens Fabric label...how cute is it?!


Last but not least, this white coat technically counts as a coat-of-color, as it is not black, in my book. This was from an estate sale in Forest Acres in April of 2012! I wore it once to the flea market that year and probably not since, so I've been trying to incorporate it into the outerwear rotation more (especially now that it's not hidden at the back of the closet behind some random army surplus stuff...old habits die hard). Because I am apparently obsessed with style inspiration from Hitchcock pictures, I associate white coats with Kim Novak in this one, from the movie Vertigo. With a black sweater underneath, it's easy to bridge the gap between where-the-sleeves-end and where-my-wrists-actually-are (this is decidedly not a jewelry-showing-off-length sleeve, it's just too short on my monkey arms!). On the other coats, which have similar "What do you do about the bare expanse of skin in these winter months!", I've actually stock piled four or five pair of cloth, elbow length gloves (LIKE what Novak is wearing in the photo! I KNEW I wasn't crazy), to keep my arms warm in these elbow-ending sleeves!


This is a Forstmann wool called "Ermina" (which is what I should name one of my children), distributed by "Louis Goldstein, New York". The maker's label is from Grace's, which was an upscale women's shop in Nashville that ran at least until 2008. I thought it was still around! I am disturbed to find its website defunct and no mention of it on Google maps outside of Grace's Plaza, a shopping complex down the road and owned by the same family...you can see the archived version of their old website, with history on the brand, here. Well, at least I snapped this one up while I could, I guess!



Anyway! What do you think of my coats of many colors? Do you have any outerwear that is a particular favorite, or a coat that makes you feel like a movie star every time you wear it? Have any style tips you'd like to share about vintage winter clothes? Let's talk!

That's all for today, but I'll see you back here tomorrow (if I live through this work day, eugh, nerves are being worked!!). ENJOY THE SUNSHINE! Til then.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Real Talk: Vintage Shopping Habits (Why Can't I Go in Normal Stores Anymore?)

Good morning!

Hope you had a restful President's Day-- back to the races today, oh are we ever. I have now lost interest in House of Cards (I binge watched the rest of season 1 and half of season 2 before just giving up...O Kevin Spacey, where is thy sting?) and am back at work, slinging books as usual. One thing that I was thinking about over the weekend, as I tried my darnedest not to go out and hit the thrift stores, was exactly how long it had been since I'd been in a retail setting that wasn't Goodwill, an antique/indoor flea market type store, or Kroger's, and why I'm so compelled to shop secondhand in the first place. 

From a 1950 Life magazine ad
On Valentine's Day, after lunch with some of his family and a trip to McKay's, my Bub and I braved the crazy pedestrian and car traffic on Hillsboro Road to get one of my beloved ready-made vegan pizzas for our V-day dinner (kalamata olives, spinach, sundried tomatoes, and Daiya cheese-- YES). In the course of this labor of love, I visited for the first time that weird, al fresco shopping district right down from the mall in which the Whole Foods is nestled. It was pouring down rain, but through the wet windshield I peered out at the storefronts, taking in the drizzly view. West Elm's in there, Anthropologie, a bunch of those stores whose names I didn't recognize, and people with umbrellas, kids, women tottering on stiletto heeled boots, were darting in and out of the overhangs and storefronts in a frenzy of I'm sure holiday inspired gusto or panic. I had a book of speaker's anecdotes from 1937 that I fished out of the free bin at McKays, so I was content enough to wait in the car while Matthew went to pick up our food, but as I was sitting there, I thought about how "Dickensian Orphan" my mindest is when confronted with real life, retail environments. Nice to look at, but yeah right, I'm going to go in there and buy a sixty dollar scarf. How can they charge a hundred bucks for this lamp and sleep at night?! Who actually buys these triple digit priced shoes? Dream on, kiddlings! Not that I'm, at least consciously, trying to be either haughty about that fact or sad about it-- it's just funny that it would not occur to me to go shopping somewhere where everything is new and priced accordingly, and how that whole retail world just doesn't even cross my mind when I "feel like shopping".

It looked way less New England small town/ Updike-esque
in real life, trust me, especially in the rain.
When I was a little kid, my family would hit Rivergate about every weekend in a fairly predictable routine of stores-- Target, Michaels, Walmart, in that order. Sometimes we might squeeze in a trip to Shoe Carnival or the Book Attic, and back before it closed, Service Merchandise was a must-see, but the funny thing about it was we were never looking for a) a particular thing or b) anything that wasn't on sale. My mom's greatest past time was ( and still is!) finding a bargain. She played the discount game like some people play ponies or the lottery-- with a concomitant joy and compulsiveness that leached out into her children as we saw her snap up scarecrows in January and snowmen in July for a fraction of their original cost.  There were huge red signs at the end of the aisles in Target then bleating, in white on red, what the discount was on the items at that particular endcap. My sister and I would look at containers of Gack that had been hastily resealed with packing tape at the return desk, or sets of pens that were missing one pen. A Ziggy advent calendar at the first of the year or a stationery set that just hadn't sold for some reason drew our magpie eyes, and we would weigh the forty percent discount with how much we actually wanted the item. The whole game was to see how much you got, at how much of a bargain, multiplied by how much you actually liked whatever your weekend's quarry was. It's great to get neon toe socks on sale, but HOW MUCH GREATER IS IT to get those neon toe socks you were looking at in the retail section on sale but one week since it was full price! AND they still have them in your size. WHO EVEN BUYS THINGS RETAIL? Don't they know the money they're wasting and the fun they're missing out on?

Put me in this fray! I'm ready!! (1955 Life magazine ad)

Between my mom's discount shopping and my dad's junking habit (I think I've told you before his parents did flea market antique furniture stalls on the weekend, so he was raised at the fairgrounds dickering over 1920's phone books and tin toy soldiers) what freakin' chance did I have NOT to be obsessed with the acquisition of material goods? Unlike my fellow compulsive shoppers on Hoarders, however, regular stores just don't do it for me. On the off occasion I've tried to go to a Target in the past five years, I'll kind of listless wander around, look at price tags, think about things I might need, and end up buying tights and underwear (something, admittedly, you should not buy at the Goodwill). "Oh, that's a neat mirror," I might think, but then when I pick it up, the frame is flimsier than I thought it would be, there's a nick taken out of the paint, and it's "on sale" for 39.99. WTH. I will recoil from this type of situation as from a rattlesnake. I'm used to going in somebody's grandma's house on the other side of town and getting a mirror twice that size that WAS two hundred dollars when it was bought in 1970, made out of heavy, ornate material, and is walking out the door for twenty bucks. And get a gigantic thrill out of having found something I truly love for a fraction of the cost it should have been, in a treasure hunt type setting. Don't even get me started with clothes. Why would I buy even the "So and So for Target" line of designed-by-designers ready to wear when I could have a chic, chic 1950's suit for $12 at the flea market, or why would I buy a faux fur coat at the department store for $60 when I could get a real fur coat at Goodwill for $20? People often tell me, "I don't know how you have such luck at the thrift store" but between my marksman's eye for crazy clothes and the frequency with which I visit thrift stores, I really can't much lose! It's the thrill of the hunt and my love of pretty things that drives me.

Where that's gotten me, though? HOARDER. CITY. POPULATION: BUB AND ME. I've spent the last year and certainly a lot of 2014 so far trying to actively "fight" clutter, but how can one go so diametrically against one's nature?

Nice couch, but where's all the STUFF? source
For example, having things being so cheap, being so into things, and compulsive shopping means I HAVE A HOUSE FULL OF BEAUTIFUL THINGS with nowhere to put them/store them/display them/actually enjoy them. I've been clearing out in 2014 and have been pretty ruthless with things going back to Goodwill, but God ALMIGHTY is it hard to let go of things I have a story behind. I've told you about trying to cut down on some of the buying, and spending more time looking even when I'm in retail environments, but the heart often wants what the heart wants, and I break down and buy. Of course I don't think twice about buying a sixties' check suit jacket at Goodwill, it was $5.99! Why wouldn't I buy my sixth mink stole when it's in great condition and only $12 at the second day of an estate sale? People who haven't been bit by a shopping bug or been inculcated at a tender age into the cult of acquisition probably think I'm completely over the cuckoo's nest, but it's hard to differentiate sometimes between "I actively need this item to be in my house" and "I need to remember that day I got this and so I can't get rid of it" and "You can live without this". The same as when I got rid of those massive bookshelves and something like 75% of my bookshelves, it was about not having to have those things to be me. I've read 'em! I've got the knowledge in my head! I can get them again if I'm dying from need of them! But I don't have to have them to show you who I am.

Nashville flea market: One of everything, thanks. source
And that gets to the crux of it-- if I didn't go across town at 8 in the morning with my dad through this totally bizarre, ramshackle farm house into the attic to get that commemorative plate, if I just got it at Target, wouldn't it be easier to get rid of it? And if I didn't have so much fun regaling people with tales of how the guy and his son helped me load these huge lamps into my Civic and we forgot the shades under their carport and had to go back for them the next day but they were so nice about it...for example, wouldn't it be easier to just see it in an aisle at Dillards and let it pass by? My The Hoarder in You book talks about how a lot of the time you buy to ward of the anxiety you feel about whether or not to buy, and this is magnified times 1,000,000 in a second hand/estate sale/ flea market setting. You may never see that kewpie doll towel holder again! And certainly not at that good a deal! I sat on my hands all Monday trying not to fidget out to the stores in my leisure time, and I was successful yesterday, but who knows where the weekend will take me? I love stuff! I just have to find a teensy, weensy bit healthier way to interact in the shopping world with it.

If I could go shopping here, I might just shop retail.
Vintage deparment store, take me in your loving arms...
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Ruminating thoughts, partout! Anyway, I don't know if that had much of a point to it, but I was thinking today about how that buzz by the retail stores made me think about my own shopping habits, and where I am as a collector/shopper/person. What do you think? Do you ever struggle with the excitement buying gives you versus the downer trying to keep the house together becomes? Have you changed much over the years as a shopper? Have your parents or your childhood influenced you one way or the other towards being a minimalist or a "collector"? What's the "why" behind your shopping habits? I'd love to talk shop and shopping with you guys, so let's get to it!

Anyway, I gotta get back to work now, but don't worry, I've still got plenty of hoarding stories to tell you. I'll hit you up about the (teeny tiny, hardly even that many!) weekend finds from last weekend and some gems from my coat closet tomorrow. Act like you won't see me out at the flea market this weekend, too, in spite of this whole post, haha! Have a great Tuesday, and we'll talk tomorrow. Til then!

Monday, February 17, 2014

President's Day at Waffle House (2014)

Good morning!

Whew, it's Monday! I spent the weekend running around to the estate sales, watching the rest of season 3 Homeland (don't wanna talk about it, my heart is broken), starting the first season of House of Cards (don't tell me about it, I'm only like 7 episodes in), and eating brunch with two lovely ladies at Café Fundamental on Porter Road (those crepes were ballin', y'all). I almost FORGOT, until I went to work Sunday afternoon, that Monday was a government holiday. No work for this gal; I slept in until the decadent hour of 9:30, then crawled out of bed, sleepheaded, to get dressed for a special breakfast run to Waffle House. This may be the closest you get to an "as it happened" blog from me, so enjoy the immediacy of my Monday morning!

Let's start with what I wore:


Suspend disbelief for a moment, and let me tell you that this is my version of casual wear. I'm serious! When I don't feel like spending the extra fifteen minutes it takes to braid my hair and put on tights/a slip/foundation garments, throwing on these leggings, a dress, hair in a side ponytail, hat, boots, and lipstick takes about ten minutes and I'm do-o-one. Dita Von Teese talks about, in this article on her beauty routine, having makeup and basic clothes that looks polished but take barely any time to apply/assemble, and this is my that. It took me less time to get into this than it would into jeans. The dress is an Edith Martin "California Original" from a vintage clearance sale out at the Tennessee Antique Mall (five bucks, no joke, and look at how cute the label is), the jacket is Gadzooks via Goodwill (and is somewhere between one of those "chubby" jackets from the fifties and Patricia Arquette in the late 90's, a total coup), and that King Tut necklace was MISSING to the point that I thought I may have lost it at some karaoke death march, but  recently reappeared under the bed (I owe my extreme and lasting gratefulness to St. Anthony).

When Matthew and I were first dating in the summer of 2008, we used to go to the McGavock Waffle House (at the Opryland exit in almost-Donelson) ALL. THE. TIME.  I don't know if it was willful nutritional ignorance,  or the rose colored glasses of first love, but oh my God, we had bacchanals of hashbrowns, bacon and egg sandwiches, and chocolate chip pecan waffles. I was eating like I was training to be in a biopic about Kate Smith. Remembering the devastation that a 4,000 calorie meal used to put on these fragile bird bones, I have since been wary to go back to the scene of the crime, but today, WaHo sang its siren's song, and we heeded the call!


Matthew had brought quarters for me to put in the juke box, but they've installed one of those digital kinds of the place of the old cd-slinging machine, which takes dollars and doesn't have nearly enough George Jones on it. ONE SONG. And that song is "He Stopped Loving Her Today"...I don't want to eat hashbrowns and cry, so I gave up my dream of eight credits worth of the Possum. My go-to tracks on the jukebox in the Waffle House I frequented in my Knox County days were, in order, "Crazy on You" by Heart, "Free Bird", "Jet Airliner" by Steve Miller Band, and "Coffee and Cigarettes" by Otis Redding (plus whatever various Motown or old school country songs they might have on a best of). Today, we came in and someone had already put ON "Crazy on You", followed by Otis Redding's "These Arms of Mine" and "One More Day", which was fine with me! I added "When You're Hot, You're Hot" by Jerry Reed, "Sympathy for the Devil", "Soul Man", and something else I can't remember, and looked over the menu, which you can see reproduced in its entirety below (aren't you getting hungry just looking at it?):


I went for a large order of hashbrowns, diced, peppered and capped; Matthew got the same and we split a pecan waffle. Do you know they put the calorie counts on the side of the menu next to the prices now? WHAT KIND OF SACRILEGE IS THIS. I don't want to know, Waffle House menu designers! I deserve not to know!

Fellow bloggers-- do you feel weird taking out your phone to super-extra-cover everything when you're out doing something you want to blog about? I usually FORGET to take pictures, but when I do, I always feel like "THAT girl" trying to Robert Capa photodocument her quotidian little life. I kept waiting for the waitress was going to come over and say, "Seriously, you all stop taking pictures of each other, please." But we would not be stopped! Here's a snap of Bub looking PARTICULARLY handsome (I got him that David Byrne concert shirt at his concert at the Ryman, that same "summer of Waffle House"):




This food looks exactly what it looked like to us at the time in its unfocusedness-- our vision was blurred with hunger and food lust:


And one more of me, stoic before digging into the jalapeno'd, mushroom'd, tomato'd, ketchup'd bunch of potato-y goodness in front of me:


THE FOOD WAS SO GOOD. I might should have skipped the jalapenos, which were at ratio of like 10 to 1 for every other add-on ingredient in the hashbrowns (what were they trying to do to me!), but it was delicious anyway, especially since it had been so long since I'd had a plateful. We laughed and talked about our olden times at this same Waffle House. I was teaching and it was summer vacation, Matthew was just back from touring with a local band all over the US, and our time was all out own! And that's been coming up on six years ago...it seems like it was last weekend. It's funny to think of how much you take for granted having large blocks of time like that. It was nice to get a morning to hang out with the husband and just shoot the breeze over coffee, though, I felt like my batteries got recharged just a little bit.

Thank you, Washington and Lincoln, for having a holiday in your honor so I could have such a good breakfast out on the town with my Bab!


Poor Matthew had to go off to work at noon-- and what am I going to do with the rest of my day? Probably transfer some records over on my USB turntable (I have not used that thing nearly as much as I should, and one of my resolutions is to digitize some of my massive record collection from high school), watch some more House of Cards, and read some books from the library that should probably go BACK to the library at some point (possibly, maybe). What are you going to do with your day off? Do you get one? Had a good long weekend? Let's talk!

I've got some vintage finds to show off tomorrow, but that's all for now! Have a great Monday, and I'll see you again tomorrow. Til then!

Friday, February 14, 2014

Photo Friday: Happy Valentine's Day!

Good morning! Afternoon! 

Happy Valentine's day, kids-- I have been so bustling with activity this morning that I've barely had a moment to catch my breath! It's V-day, and I am so happy to mark the, what, fifth one running with Matthew (this time as man and wife, no less). Getting to spend the rest of the year with him again is the best gift I could get on this romantic holiday (but we may have to squeeze in some vintage jewelry just as a side line, you know, why not :) ). I have a ton of things I have YET to do, but I couldn't let a holiday pass without marking the occasion with a season-appropriate post, now could I? AND it falls on a Friday? Guess that means we're photo Fridaying with the spirit of St. Valentine on the brain. 

Take a look at these Valentine's Day photos from various Valentine's Day Dances of the mid century! I love how familiar these gatherings look-- apparently, songs and fashions change, but little awkward,  adorable school dances remain the same. I've got to jet, but treat yourself to an extra piece of heart shaped candy with my blessing, and we'll talk Monday! Bisous.   -Lisa



From the Southern Arkansas University alumni page:
Formal dances were held in the fall and spring and at Christmas and Valentine’s. The Varsitonians continued to entertain at these events. Their leader, SSC band director Richard Oliver, and his horn men swung to a rhythm begun decades earlier. By the late 1950s, a new beat—rock and roll—began to drown out swing. The Varsitonians faded. One local band, the Uniques, composed of several SSC students, began as the Cut-Ups in the late 1950s, hoping to follow the path from obscurity to fame with hit records like Buddy Holly’s Crickets. The Uniques, with lead singer Joe Stampley, in the 1960s enjoyed a measure of regional popularity and had guest spots on a few national shows.

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Lake Oswego High School Valentines Day Dance 1959

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Title: Valentine dance, school.

Creator: Adolph B. Rice Studio

Date: February 15, 1956
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Nampa, Idaho
Primary Valentine’s Day Dance

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1965 Valentine's Dance at Disneyland

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User comment:
This was the very first gig I ever played in my life. These photos are (I believe) from Valentine's Day 1967. This was a dance at Redway Elementary school.

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Valentine Dance Party (girls only, except for the brother- sixth grade). Tulia, TX. (1968 or so).

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balcony shot of Valentine's day dance 1969


Thursday, February 13, 2014

Best Dressed Women (Ebony Magazine, May 1964)

Good afternoon!

Guys! It's almost FRIDAY! We're gonna make it! I've been bogged down with work and the construction special, top secret present for valentine's day tomorrow, but I didn't forget about you...let's switch it up a little bit today with a 1964 article on women I'd like to know and clothing/houses I'd like to covet.

This article in May 1964's Ebony magazine caught my attention for the knock-your-actual-socks-off effect of these top, mid-century African-American women, caught on camera in their most beautiful ensembles in their gracious, gorgeous living rooms. The title of the article, "Best Dressed Women", leaves out the fact that these best dressed women are being photographed in their homes, which are every bit as aesthetically pleasing as the mistresses themselves, and represent the better halves of some of the most powerful men of color of the early 1960's. Let's take a look, starting with the cover:


One thing you learn from the description of the cover, under the table of contents in this issue, is that expensiveness of wardrobe is NOT a deciding factor in narrowing down the Best Dressed Women of the Year:


"Year-round excellence in good grooming" is something I strive towards, and gosh, do these women have that and some to spare. Mrs. Williams, who you can read more about in this Chicago obituary from her funeral in 2011, was born in New Orleans during the Depression and obtained a bachelor's degree from Xavier University before marrying and joining her husband's funeral parlor business. In the year she graduated, 1947, just five percent of people over 25 held a college degree. From the notice: "At age 80, she received a doctorate in theology from the [Chicago Theological S]eminary." Gracious! And to boot, look at her standing in her living room like poise itself. No wonder they chose her for the cover. You'll see her again at the end of the article (the girl so nice they included her photograph twice). How about that enormous lamp, the pinch pleat drapes, and Mrs. Williams yellow silk evening jacket over her dress?

Here, Mrs. Harold J. Whalum stands outside of her home in her Sunday best:


There's everything to love about this. See how her slim figure is the one those pencil skirts and boxy Jackie Kennedy jackets I'm always complaining about were made for! Also note the length of the gloves...I can't tell you how many times I've tried on a coat at an estate sale or the flea market and my dad (you know how there's never a mirror when you need one in these situations?) will gravely chime in, "Yeeeah, it looks like the sleeves are a little short". How else am I supposed to show off my immaculate white gloves and tasteful bracelet, sir? The part of this outfit that really sets it on its own in style, though, are the black accessories. The hat is described as a "Milan straw hat accented by white silk organza cabbage rose", but see how elegant it looks with a plain, chic suit, kitten-ish sharp heeled sling backs, necklace and matching bag. I would have voted for this woman, too.


This is interesting-- you'd think what Mrs. Hobart Taylor, Jr. was wearing was a dress, but this "elementary school principal and wife of Washington VIP" is actually "relax[ing] in evening culottes fashioned in French white silk fabric with floral patterns." Aaah! It just got five times cooler! How about that Greek-motif couch and it's amazing, trapezoid backboard? I am 100% upset with whoever was the photographer for this spread, because America needs to know what the rest of that room looks like and how, exactly, this formal culottes work. That said, look at the gorgeous color composition-- the floral on the dress, that all cream living room with pops of red and that little yellow cushion to the right.


Leroy R. Johnson was a senator from Georgia, serving in that position from his election in 1962 until 1975, and was the first black senator in fifty years from that state (more about him here). His wife, the former Cleopatra Whittington (I am not making that up...what a fabulous name, right up there with Zelda Sayre!), is the woman you see above, whom he married in 1948. The caption tells us that Mrs. Johnson is a librarian and "has a collection of frocks in bright colors, plus several basic blacks." I am way more the other way around, with a collection of black frocks, and several basic wild-pattern dresses, but I want to be more like her. Look at ANOTHER enormous lamp (I'm starting to think the ones I got at that estate sale that I told you blew up like Alice after eating the cake marked EAT ME as I got them out of the house and into my car, might be from this period), MORE pinch pleat drapes, and Mrs. Johnson's lovely evening gown and massive fur stole. Iiiiiii love this.


Best of the whole group, hands down, for clothing and background, has got to be Mrs. Tyree J. Barefield-Pendleton. Note that her husband's name is spelled wrong in the caption, which a Google search set me wise to-- there can't be a Mrs. Tyree J. Barefield-Pendleton AND a Mrs. Tyres J. Barefield-Pendleton in the world, can there? The former, also a college graduate, wrote a book called Minutes about her experiences in the Birmingham civil rights movement of this time period, including in the publication "handwritten minutes from meetings held by the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference" (hence the title). She is putting all of us to shame in this dress which looks like to be a cocktail sheath with a dramatic, over the shoulder cape element (!!), black heels, black clutch, and elbow length black gloves. Brutally glamorous, this woman is. Just stopping the presses. And the living room! Platform sofa, lantern lamp swag, brick wall leading up to a fireplace, no doubt, and that oversized piece of art over it all? Chic, chic, CHIC! I just love that besides her exterior, aesthetic excellence, there's a woman who was deeply involved in the changing politics of the time for the better, at a critical moment for civil rights. Style and substance.


More glamorous glitz with Mrs. W Rankin Lewis Jr's wife, who likes "simple basic outfits that are feminine but not cluttered" (amen) and is a fellow advocate of painting-one-room-of-your-house-pink (my bedroom is Mamie pink like her living room). This gold brocade dress is something else...isn't it weird to think of how this might be something you would wear out to a nice restaurant in its day, or out for cocktails with the boss and his wife and your husband-- if I wore something like this nowadays, someone would be asking me "Where do you think you're going so dressed up" or if I was presenting at the Oscar's. I was telling Eartha the other weekend (who told me about her dentist being like "Where're you going all dressed up?" as she was wearing a dress to get her teeth cleaned and not, I don't know, overhauls? An actual sweat suit? It's a dress, not a tuxedo!), that if everyone dressed nicer, people dressed nicely wouldn't be such a remarkable/thing-to-be-remarked-upon sight. But I digress. Mrs. Lewis really looks lovely.

How about this next woman?


Doesn't she look the cover of a turn of the century romantic novel? Her Gibson girl hair, regal posture, taffeta gown, gloves, and choker all have the ring of bygone Victorian grace...you could go directly to the White House or royal court in this ensemble and not look a whit out of place. I wonder if it looked particularly "retro" in 1964 or was just timeless as far as evening wear ensembles go?  I initially thought "Ceil Chapman" was another victim of a typo in this caption, but instead, bust my buttons, was a very chic dress designer of the mid century. According to Wikipedia, Chapman was among Marilyn Monroe's favorite dressmakers and "provided the trousseau for Elizabeth Taylor's 1950 wedding to Conrad "Nicky" Hilton". Jeez louise! You can see some of her vintage designs for sale 1stdibs here. Note to self, when I someday ascend into heaven and/or reach Gwyneth Paltrow like levels of "money being no object", let me go shop at that site. If these dresses cost upwards of four figures now, think of how expensive and hi-tone they must have been in 1964! 

William Brooks was elected as Columbus's first African American municipal director of public utilities in 1961...three years later, here's his wife, stylish as the Dickens in this minkcoat and turban (let me die, I am actually dying of how much I love this) and sheath dress ensemble. The dress is white and gold matelasse, referring to the rasied, quilted texture of the material ...hold tight though, are you ready for this? According to the caption, the dress, which Mrs. Brooks designed herself, has "a floor-length, attachable skirt for formal wear". This dress is more than meets the eye, readers! I am not at all being facetious when I say why aren't there more day-to-night extensions on dresses like that (especially for us tall gals, who could use an extra inch or two of a dropped hemline from time to time)? I think the room she's in is a restaurant's dining floor, but it's still perfectly mid century with its pink and orange striped carpet, potted fir tree, and interesting window treatment. I would move the tables and move in if they'd let me (I'm kidding, I'm holding out for Mrs. Tyree J. Barefield-Pendleton's living room).


Last but not least of the inserts that were done in full color instead of black and white (there are more women of fashion in the rest of the magazine if you want to check it out yourself!), we get to see Mrs. Ruth Williams again in a still formal but less evening-y ensemble, and even more of that lamp I want to have, and Mrs. Parker Ward looking like a stand-in for kittenish Eartha Kitt in that gold sequin gown. Frank Starr is another amazing mid century design label, with Ruth Goude as the dress designer behind the firm. Can you even imagine how beautiful this dress would be as you made your grand entrance into the dining room, shimmering from every angle like a mermaid or a religious vision? Can't get over it.

Anyway, sorry this is so late! I have to get back to the grind, but tell me-- which of these best dressed women do you think is the BEST of the best dressed? Which living room are you coveting the hardest? Why do we live in a world were almost no one dresses like this any more? I'm here to ask the hard questions! Just kidding, but I'd love to compare notes on the beautiful, dressed-to-the-nines women profiled here.

Gotta scoot! Have a great Thursday (evening), and I'll talk to you tomorrow for Photo Friday! Til then.

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