Dr. Kildare: The Magic Key (1963)

Good morning! I found this sometime last year at the East Nashville Goodwill and actually had to ask a man standing in front of the bin where it lay, flipping through records near the cash register, if he was going to buy it. I've reached for stuff before that I didn't realized was already "spoken for" and come close to drawing back a nub, so you can never be too sure. "Uh, no?" the records-perusing man replied, as if the item in question had been geriatric diabetic support hose rather than kitsch GOLD. Are you kidding me? Who would not want to buy this? For $1.99, no less?

Hellllloooooooo, nurse!

Omg. Look at the cheerleader's booties. And the nurse's skirt...that can't be regulation, right?

Dr. Kildare, as those in the know already know, was a popular radio, movie, and television property that ran, in different incarnations, from around 1937 to the mid sixties'. The most well-remembered version of the show was the television serial, which ran from 1961 to 1966, and starred clean-cut, handsome Richard Chamberlain in the titular medical role. Think of Dr. Kildare as the very first whoever-George-Clooney-played-on-ER, or Patrick Dempsey on Grey's Anatomy....the great-grandfather of Dr. McDreamy!

The illustrations in this book, as in any sixties' tv-tie-in text, are really the draw. While I'm sure it was fascinating for teenybopper television fans of the series to read anything at all about the further adventures of their dreamboat hero, the story is a little less than fascinating (something about a cheerleader breaking her arm? Maybe? I skimmed, man. I skimmed!). What I love is the ONE COLOR tone...you'll see this in Donna Parker or Troy Nesbitt or any of the similar teen lit of the time in that the illustrations will be in black and white...plus one key note color to ratchet up the eye appeal a little. In this case, what could be more appropriate for a hospital than that pistachio green? Even the checkerboard eschews its traditional red and black format for a taste of spearmint!

What's weird about the illustrations in this book is that the main character, Kildare, always looks more like someone's faithful labrador than his very-human looking actor counterpart, Chamberlain. Is there not something spaniel-ish about the way his face is drawn in the above panel? Most of the other people turn out looking at least like people...you'd think they would have put the MOST effort into the reason-kids-are-buying-the-book! It reminds me of those busts of Elvis or Elvis head lamps that bear little to no resemblance to the King himself. WHY DO THEY STILL APPEAL TO ME.


Note the green tints leeching into Nurse Ratchet's forehead, and the green milk. This is going too far, illustrators! I can't help but think of the "Oh Blanche...you know we've got rats in the cellar?" scene from Whatever Happened to Baby Jane... whatever's in there, girl patient, do not eat it!

Kildare manages to look slightly less canine in this picture, but still way less handsome than his real life actor man. If I had read the text, I might know who this guy is, but instead, I'm concentrating on the quaint little switch above the bed railing, and the similar switch for the tiny light fixture. Think about how many things weren't automated or button controlled in a hospital in 1963!

I personally love the following things in this picture: Chuck's freckles, mom-of-the-patient's single strand of pearls and chignon, and girl patient's cutie bangs and petulant expression. Do you see how Chuck is dressed? I might actually die.

Whatever is going on in this picture, say yes, girl patient! Say yes! Whatever I would have to do to don that absolutely too cute twirler/cheerleader/whatever it is outfit, I would gladly do it! Put down that book, pick up that baton!

You'll have to read the rest of the story (or any of the story) to figure out what happens in the end, but I'm pretty sure that no one dies and the girl gets to go baton-twirling...after all, it is a young adult book (back when that did not necessarily connote various supernatural romantic creatures, other worlds, wizards, etc).

The end pages boast other Whitman classics...um, you had me at "Little Lame Prince" (which is my new cursing epithet for Matthew, by the way):

I now HAVE to track down the Beverly Hillbillies novelization. I mean, right?

Do you remember Dr. Kildare? Did you have any embarrassingly intense tv crushes that translated into buying tie-in merchandise in your vulnerable teens? Which use of green in the above illustrations is the most off-putting to you? Let's talk!

If you're into more Kildare merch, there's a TON on Etsy practically for the asking. Check it out!

That's all for today...see you all right back here tomorrow for more scanned goodies and gewgaws.

Weekend Finds/ The Clothes Off My Back ( 2 for 1!)

Good morning!

Usually, Monday mornings are a good time to share weekend finds, and being as it's been an actual millennium since the last time I posted a picture of myself in pursuit of my true occupation, clotheshorse, I thought I would combine the two. These are some pretty extra-ordinary dresses that I've found in the last month, and don't think it hasn't killed me not to show them off before this! However, Sunday was the first day I managed to get my act together enough to take pictures. Or, more accurately, have Matthew take pictures. Thanks, mister!

On with the show:

Item 1: The Ten Dollar (!!) 1920's dress:

Or maybe earlier? I found this dress at the flea market hanging on a wall with a $15 price tag. LOOK. AT. THE SKIRT AND SUSPENDERS. In mint condition but for a small dark streak in the front of the skirt, the wool-set is the deepest purple possible without passing into grey-black, and consists of an underpiece of skirt/suspenders, with an overpiece of a mutton-sleeved jacket with a beaded overlay just on the collarbone. Now, riddle me this-- the skirt fits perfectly. I could not have bought a custom-piece that fits me as well as this does and that is truly something to crow about...the button details are adorable (there are three at either side of the bodice and three at each of the pockets...it almost seems like overkill but I love it). But the top over it won't even come close to buttoning correctly! We're talking a two or three inch gap between hook and closure, which frankly, vanity aside, is baffling. How did the person in the skirt wear the matching top if they're of two wildly varying sizes? I couldn't tell you. I'm just happy the less-costumey piece is completely wearable, and hopeful that I can somehow diet (or...remove ribs?) to get into the top some day (though then the skirt would look crazy on me...what is the deal, 1920's clothesmaker, whoever you were?). At any rate, I used my flea market idea of just freakin' always asking if they will take $5 less than any item over $10 is marked and, as in the other three times I tried it, this totally worked. TEN DOLLARS FOR WEARABLE HISTORY. I could die.

Item 2: The 7.99 Goodwill Dresses of My Dreams:

The dress on the left is a floaty, sixties'-bridesmaid type dress in the style of those Fembots from Austin Powers...it has a tight sheath dress as the base, and then two flowy overpanels that create what must be a flattering silhouette on the tiny modster it was originally made for, but pays no favors to the vertically overendowed, pear-shaped-as-the-day-is-long vintage blogger in question. So, I've added an elastic-and-faux-leather Gitano belt from the early 90's that I'm obsessed with right now, and my favorite 80's velour bolero. Instant update! Likewise for the dress on the right, which I actually found Saturday night at the Charlotte Goodwill (which should be the name of an off-Broadway musical). I picked it up and went...hm...this is different. It was then that I saw the MARIMEKKO tag from...wait for it...nineteen seventy four. I just about fainted dead away. Besides the gorgeous, in your face print and cut of this dress, and the fact that it actually fits me how is this possible, I am tickled pink about this dress's illustrious provenance. You can read more about the Finnish superstar op-art textile label here...I'm just counting my lucky stars I was in the right place at the right time to snatch it up and enjoy it!

Item 3: The Dress That's Almost Too Good For Me to Believe:

At the same flea market as the first dress, I was in an aisle full of animal enclosures and saw the tulle-and-satin underlay of this dress frothing over the lid of a waist-high cardboard box, and just about died. Is this real life? To a girl going through a re-addiction to the album Bella Donna, can you imagine anything better than a perfectly wrecked black fifties' ballgown made of satin and lace and tulle? And I am talking ball. GOWN. The thing swooshes when you walk like a straight up antebellum hoop skirt dresses, and you sort of glide on a sea of layered lace rather than walk in this dress. I really haven't ever seen anything like this in real life outside of wedding gowns...though the material is damaged in places, it was obviously an extremely expensive dress in its day. I didn't know any of that when I bought it, just that the man smoking a cigarette in an orange hoodie had asked me to yell if I needed help with anything, and this! This I needed help with. He asked $25 for the actually-heavy-there's-so-much-material bottom layer of the dress and the voile over-dress part, and I offered $20. Did I mention it has three hand-sized satin red bows down the back of it (not pictured, but take my word for it)? It does. He accepted and helped me lump the dress into a huge plastic bag to be guiltily carried around the rest of the flea market (it was too far to the car...imagine trying to navigate the already tight confines of a booth with this fifteen pound plastic bag full of dress). OVER. THE. MOON. I may have to rethink my whole wedding so I can just wear this instead of your traditional white gown. It's a dream!

Item 4: Bonus Feature

That's it for dresses I still can't believe I own, but I had to show you this picture Matthew drew on the kitchen dry-erase board. This board is supposed to be for items to get from the store (eggs, ketchup, etc) and things that are too far ahead on the calendar to write down (Caroline's bachelorette party, see bottom), and things I ask Matthew to write on it when I can't find a pen ("I WANT A BLACK AND DECKER MATRIX SYSTEM FOR XMAS. WRITE THAT DOWN SO I CAN REMEMBER IT TO TELL MY PARENTS!"). Last week, Matthew kept saying, "Hey, I think I heard a weird noise in the kitchen, kind of like a...I don't know, it's gonna sound crazy, but it kind of sounded like a tiny party?" Each day as I checked the refrigerator's erase board, I would find another crazy illustration of all these weird little creatures at a huge party. I think it started with that scarab bug and ended up with aliens, DJ bats, demons, Pacmen ghost...just the whole nine yards of his cute inner-mind. It was delightful, and I thought you might get a kick out of his scribblings. So there you go! :)

And thaaaaat's all for today...did you find any crazy, awesome, spectacular things at the sales this weekend? Let's share our successes! Tell me all about it!

Have a great Monday, even though it is Monday, and I'll see you tomorrow!

Photo Friday: Long Hair Edition

Good morning!!

This photo Friday is brought to you by a sale a couple months back that I don't think I ever mentioned in weekend finds...believe it or not, I buy EVEN MORE STUFF than I manage to post on the blog (God help me). This sale was in the Cloisters, a detached-homes Catholic retirement community practically adjacent to a Catholic church out in West Meade. Now, as you veteran estate salers know, retirement community sales are hit and miss. They don't have the scavenger aspect of suburban homes with a single-owner over many years, where things have a chance to accumulate throughout the house (sometimes to an alarming degree)...older people who move into retirement apartments or condos or communities have to sometimes drastically downsize to fit the floor plan of their new accommodations. This means a lot of the novelty barware or children's clothes from the sixties' have already been passed on throughout the family or given to Goodwill years before the final estate sale takes place. However! What the people generally take to retirement are the things they most value and the things they can use... after all those old college football team seat cushions and 101 Strings records have gone to the rummage sale, and the dust settles, what you have left is either good-quality stuff, or sentimental stuff, neither of which could be relegated to the junk pile just yet.

In this case, there was a whole table full of pre-1940 pictures either in old photographer's studio folders or in the frames. Now, I came on the third day, so there wasn't "first pickin's" left to be had, but I did find two treasures (one of which I'll have to show you at a later date) and lots of 1920's handmade doll clothes (which, again, begs its own post for the full effect). This one is kind of fun because it was a "Wait, what?!" moment when I opened the two little folders:

Picture number one shows us a no doubt blue-eyed, patrician-nosed girl of the late teens, early twenties? The bangs and waves near the crown of her head seem to indicate that during the day, she pins her voluminous hair up in a shorter style more befitting the tonsorial vogue of the time, but has let her locks loose to sit for this picture. And who wouldn't! One of my mom's last threats to both my sister and I as we walked out the door for our respective senior picture days in high school was "Pull your hair down out of that ponytail or I'm not buying any of those pictures!" (I complied; Sus didn't...Mom still bought both sets). In general, I think ladies look better with longer hair styles, though they can be less practical than their briefer counterparts.

When I opened the second envelope (again, out of scattering of a dozen or so, I came across not one but TWO copies of this second one, so someone reading out there may well have the other!), I saw the "full extent" of what we're talking about here. Hotchi motchi, people! THAT IS SOME HAIR.

That is a LOT. OF. HAIR! I keep trying to take note of her simple, shift-like linen dress, the ring on her third finger, left hand, and her impeccably white satin shoes, but I can't, in good conscience, get over how long her hair is! Mine, right now, is a little past my elbows, and being naturally thick, takes forever to wash and dry. The time it takes to get it from shampooed to ready-to-wear-out is one of the major arguments I have for cutting it...I'm too chicken at present, but it might have to happen eventually. This woman, in having hair down to her actual knees, must have never cut it for y-e-e-e-ears...maybe her whole life! I wish there'd been another picture of her with her hair done up in whatever style she wore it in on a daily basis, because I could use the inspiration...even though mine must be a third of her length and took me four and a half years to grow out from a Mia Farrow cut. Wow, right? I just keeping looking at it and thinking of those Japanese long-haired woman horror stories (in the style of The Ring).

Have you ever had hair so long you could sit on it? Or has anyone you know? I think I remember a friend's mom in early grade school having hair so long it was actually impressive, but just barely. Given the time, would you ever grow yours out this long? Do you have any 1910's, XL hairdressing tips from your vintage travels and travails? Let a girl know!

That's all for this week, hope you guys had fun reading! I'm gonna hit some sales in a minute, and then I'll see you on Monday. Have a great weekend!

Weekly World News (1981)

Good morning!

Well, the Roky show last night was just extraordinary-- he even played "Two Headed Dog" as an encore! Standing in the crow's nest style balcony area of Exit/In, the sound of his backup band was thundering and his changed-but-still-magnetic voice was the very focus of the whole show.Between the weirdo strange-o imagery in his song lyrics and the utter, devastating lack of sleep I've had as a result of the show getting out around midnight, I think it's possible that I'm in exactly the right frame of mind to be just plain delighted that I found out Weekly World News is available in Google Books from 1981- 2005. It's just what I needed to get myself through this coffee-IV-drip of a morning shift.

Behold! The TRUE news:

From the opening line of this article: "Only a miraculous twist of fate prevented nature from creating humans in the form of hideous green lizardmen uglier than any space alien, a famous scientist believes." I love that they used his own picture, the scientist's, to compare with the model of a hideous lizard he's concocted. PLEASE, TELL ME MORE, WWN.

I remember when I was a kid, Weekly World News was about the closest the inquiring young mind of a child eccentric still had to Creepy or Weird Tales, just in People magazine rather than comic book format. Much like comic books, I fostered no dim hope that my parents would ever give me money to buy the trash lit glaring at me in newsprint from the magazine stand near the checkout at Kroger's, but by golly, it couldn't keep me from speed reading the best of it when we were trapped in line behind someone with forty two items in the fifteen or less aisle (what was life like before self-checkouts? Do I even remember?).

Looking back on these snippets from 1981 (about a decade before my peak curiosity in news of the bizarre), they are much unchanged from what I remember! The kind of articles a precocious nine year old would know had no basis in reality, but couched in just enough faux science to plant a tiny seed of doubt. "Why DON'T we look like horrible lizards? What do you think a man-sized big bird would eat?"

UFO's seem an almost quaint concern in 2012 but for the very most conspiracy theory minded of us-- I'm much more worried about global warming causing catastrophic weather events that will destroy the planet than extraterrestrials using humans for food. And yet! UFO's were a real concern to the 1981 readership of this publication. Look at the absolutely awful "artist's impression of the incident" above, and the image of an alien from a "suppressed C.IA. document" below, and tell me this is not entertainment at its finest:

I included this clipping just because I love that the advice columnist is called "Babs" (so close to Bab! Or Barbra Streisand!) and has hair that I love. But while we're at it, why are you sixteen years old dating a guy in the Navy? Don't you have to be ((looks it up))...ok, the minimum age to join the Navy is 17, but there's no way I'm making a three and a half year commitment to my teenage sweetheart when he's going to be sailing all over the world, to exotic isles, on a boat with a bunch of other dudes who will probably be daring him to French kiss Tahitian women (I think all of my knowledge of the Navy could be expressed in one short montage of my memories of From Here to Eternity, which is set in Hawaii but I don't think even involves the Navy...so my apologies to any service men who are reading).

This clipping reminds me of all the times my grandma would be like, "No, it's TRUE! I read it in a magazine! They have glasses for blind people to be able to see! So there's no reason anyone should be blind anymore. I guess unless they just don't know about the glasses...but someone should tell them!" And my mom would rejoin, "I don't think you read that in a news magazine. What kind of magazine did you read that in? Are you even sure you read it?" Cue my grandmother reaching for a Rubbermaid tote in which she kept newspaper clippings she wanted to read at a future date (there's a touch of hoarding in every branch of my family tree... I was obviously doomed).

Look. At the guy. In the background. I think he's supposed to be her also-slimming-boyfriend, but he just looks like someone from Dateline Investigates to me. And NOT the anchor reporting the story.

The kind of story I live for. Gimme the words "death-like coma" and "screaming in stark terror" and I'm in.

A montage of pieces from the rest of the issue, including a man with a robot dog, and not one but TWO stories about ghosts:

I think the guy in the lower right hand corner was selling horoscopes by mail. I want you to look deeply into his haircut, beard, glasses, and MONDO OVERSIZED BOW TIE before you pass judgement.

Do you love trashy news? Do you secretly or unsecretly miss tv shows like Inside Edition and Hard Copy (are either one of those still on air)? Do you remember any crazy headlines like "Bat Boy" from back in the not-really-news-news-magazine day? Share, share!

If you want the real deal experience all to yourself, here's a link to the original issue. Enjoy!

I gotta go put my head down on the desk and pray that this day ends swiftly. Keep a good thought for me, and I'll see you guys tomorrow for Photo Friday!

Roky Erickson

Good morning!

Remember how I said, naught but two posts ago, that I was totally not interested in concerts, and how I don't like going to them, etc? Well, I've broken my rule twice in as many weeks for outstanding circumstances-- last week was Lindsey Buckingham, and tonight after class, I'm gonna get to see Roky Erickson! I really didn't think he was ever going to tour outside of his native Texas or maybe in a few big city, special events, but for some reason, he's playing the Exit/In tonight and Matthew and I are braving the cold and my own lack of interest in standing in one place for three hours to go see him. This is an exceptional circumstance!

A couple years ago, I was absolutely blown away by a haphazard Netflix viewing of You're Gonna Miss Me, a 2005 documentary chronicling the rise and fall and re-rise of one of rock and roll's most unique performers. Lead singer of The 13th Floor Elevators, the psych rock hit from which the doc draws its name is truly just a ear-blistering showstopper and mix-tape staple of my high school years after it featured prominently in the High Fidelity soundtrack (the movie's ok, the soundtrack was one of my favorite cds of the 2000's). What I didn't know about was the post-Elevators' Erickson years-- diagnosed with schizophrenia in 1968 (possibly set off by his massive LSD use), he was treated with shock therapy; a year later, he was caught with one (one) joint and, pleading insanity to avoid a ten year jail sentence, was remanded instead into a state psychiatric hospital where Thorazine and more electric shock treatments were administered, until his release in 1973.

Now, between the schizophrenia, the heavy drug use, the mental health treatments, and the whole being in a hospital for the criminally insane for three years, Roky came out pretty much fried, which is evident throughout the documentary. Byronic looks gone, he moved in with his mother and retreated into some of his more out-there "eccentricities". A cursory look at his Wikipedia article yields such gems as:

• In 1982, Erickson asserted that a Martian had inhabited his body. He came to feel that, due to his being alien, human beings were attacking him psychically. A concerned friend enlisted a Notary Public to witness an official statement by Erickson that he was an alien; he hoped by declaring so publicly he would be in line with any "international laws" he might have been breaking. Erickson claimed the attacks then indeed stopped.

• Beginning in the 1980's, Erickson began a years-long obsession with the mail, often spending hours poring over random junk mail, writing to solicitors and celebrities (dead or living). He was arrested in 1989 on charges of mail theft. Erickson picked up mail from neighbors who had moved and taped it to the walls of his room. He insisted that he never opened any of the mail, and the charges were ultimately dropped.

Watching the movie in parts can be actually painful. Roky's day to day existence, living with his over-controlling, slightly villainous mother and collecting random objects and paper paraphernalia, is a far cry from playing the Fillmore. What is amazing, though, is through it all, his musical genius is untouched. From the seventies' to now, when he sits down to a piano, or picks up a guitar, whatever gifted part of his brain that created and creates strange, beautiful melodies and truly awesome hard rock pieces is COMPLETELY INTACT. Some lyrics you'd have to see to believe...click on any of the song titles to hear a Youtube video, I promise they're even better in context.

• "Two Headed Dog" Two headed dog, two headed dog/I've been working in the Kremlin with a two headed dog (the central guitar riff in this is amazing)
• "Bloody Hammer" Demon is up in the attic to the left/My eye turns to the left to say, "no"/You said, "First, I am the special one."/I never hammer my mind out/I never have the bloody hammer (this also contains the "demon ghost of the 1900's says...drag your chain away! Drag your chain away now-w-w-w-w...." line, which is one of my favorite passages in any of his songs)
• "I Have Always Been Here Before"- It seems like a bell rings time and deja vu/ everything is familiar, I been here with you/all you ever had before you've had to understand/now all you have to do is want to have at your command
• "You Don't Love Me Yet"--Lightning never strikes anymore/but I can't make it rain/ because it would only mean lightning again/Lightning never strikes anymore/but I can't make it rain/because it would only cause me pain/'Cause you don't love me yet/you don't love me yet/I just would forget /because you don't love me/you don't love me yet 

Reading these out of their element, I know it sounds like they're some silly, Iron Maiden style lyrics (no offense, Iron Maiden, but youknowwhatimean), but mixed with the music, they really have an almost spooky "otherness". Not to mention head-bobbing, heavy rock infectiousness. Try listening to "Two Headed Dog" and not spending the rest of the day muttering, "Two headed! Two headed! TWO HEADED DOG!" to yourself. And having to explain yourself to your coworkers. Or not. I'm just rocking out on my own here.

Here's a trailer for the documentary (and the soundtrack, naturally, is OUT OF THIS WORLD):

             

So! That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. I'm super-excited to see what kind of a show he puts on and what kind of a crowd shows up on a Wednesday night!

Are you into sixties' psych-rock or garage bands at all? Have you seen the Roky Erickson documentary before? What are your thoughts on the above-quoted songs? Have any neat shows your conscience is just twisting your arm to go to lately? Do tell!

That's all for today...see you guys tomorrow.

Further reading:
NPR's All Things Considered segment on You're Gonna Miss Me
NYT Review of the same

Duncan Hannah and Anna Taylor (1981)

Good morning!

This is a little later in the retro-time frame than I usually dally into, but today we have a 1981 article from New York Magazine (not to be confused with the New Yorker...in the 70's and 80's, it was more like smarter, Gotham-centric version of People...and is still around!). It first caught my attention as the author line credited  to Anna Wintour and Henry Post. Henry Post I don't know from Adam...Anna Wintour, of course, went on to become the editor of Vogue magazine and inspiration for Meryl Streep's titular character in The Devil Wears Prada (spoiler: she doesn't play Prada. Side note: did you know there's Devil Wears Prada fan fiction? A coworker of mine left it up on the desk the other day and I was like....oh, no. No, we don't want to know about this). In 1981, she was thirty-two years old and the fashion editor for that magazine. So, as you can imagine, I read the ensuing copy with a greater gusto than I can usually muster for early eighties' ensembles!

The feature, called "Looking Great: Ten Stylish New York Couples", compiles photos and mini-sartorial-biographies of ten New York couples, both romantically linked/married/etc or not. The first one that caught my eye was this handsome pair, Duncan Hannah and Anna Taylor:

"Found, given, forgotten" is my new answer to any question regarding the provenance of the clothes I'm currently wearing when asked by a nosy. Do you know how old it gets saying, "someone gave it to me", "Goodwill" and "an estate sale" over and over again? Truly, they're the only two places I get clothes, peeps! Let's see what else they had to say about their vêtements and vestaments:

Neat, right? Here's two up and coming cool kids in New York City in 1981 wearing the same sharp clothes you could see gallivanting around East Nasty these days on retro-retro hipsters. Do you ever think about how 2010's people, dressing as 1980's scene kids, are actually recycling the recycled? Ie Madonna's bustier tops and tulle skirts were (initially, pre-Gaultier) from thrift stores from the fifties', worn again in the 80's, and now being worn again in the 2010's! Ah, the cyclical nature of fashion's "cutting edge". Lesson here, kids: do not throw anything away.

I was interested, after checking out the article, to see if there was any additional information on the two Stylishs. The best thing about reading vintage articles from the vantage point of thirty, forty, fifty years later, is of course being able to check on how things panned out for everyone.  Here's what Duncan Hannah looks like now, along with some examples of his work (ps, I kind of love the paintings, and I KNOW I love that he's still wearing kind of foppish, Astaire clothes thirty years later):

The bio from his Facebook page :

Duncan Hannah is a New York-based figurative painter who has had 50 solo exhibition in the United States and England since his debut in 1981. Hannah's paintings are represented in collections both nationally and internatioanlly, ranging from the Metropolitan Museum, NY, to the private collection of Mick Jagger.

Isn't that interesting! We were catching him at the very beginning of his career in that sidewalk portrait with his then-girlfriend. Thirty years later and Mick Jagger's got one of his canvases in his own private collection! Side note: I wonder what Mick Jagger's art collection looks like, besides the Warhol portraits. Remodelista also did this OFF THE CHARTS feature on his house. Can we replicate this in our house, can we, can we?

"Oh, good!" and "YES!" were my initial reactions to these domestic scenes.

Anna Taylor's band, Madder Lake, looks like it never took off much, but the search terms "anna taylor madder lake" did turn up this site, which, in spite of looking like it was last updated sometime around the millennium, had the most to say about where she ended up. Without the heavy bangs and the hat and the baby fat, she has the tiniest, cheekbone-y-ist little face!

From Wikipedia:


Anna Domino (born Anna Virginia Taylor) is a Tokyo-born indie rock artist who has released several albums under that moniker, notably for Les Disques du Crepuscule and Factory Records. Notable performers Domino has collaborated with include The The, Blaine L. Reininger and Virginia Astley. She is also one half of the duo Snakefarm. Additionally, she sang lead vocals on the song "Here In My Heart" by The 6ths on their album Wasps' Nests. Her stage name is a play on the term Anno Domini, and an American sugar brand.


This really sounds like the bio of somebody-I-went-to-school-with's mother. Isn't it funny when you meet someone and they're like, "Yeah, my parents were models in the seventies', they met in Lisbon." or "Ah, yes, my dad was in [insert name of famous mid sixties' supergroup] and then he left to do solo work and now he's blah blah blah"...I have literally met more than five people like that in my school years and it makes me go, "What! And you don't even....please let me come over to your house to interrogate them, you have no idea how interested in that kind of thing I am". I think it might be a Nashville thing. It's like famous people from the seventies' come here to settle down and raise a family, and make me jealous of their jet-setting past.

Additionally, I want to be in a band called "Snakefarm". I can't believe someone beat me to it (I am not being facetious AT ALL).

So! What do you think about these two's 1981 style choices? How do you like Duncan Hannah's house? Had you heard of either of these folks before? Would you like to see more of 1981's most stylish New Yorkers and an update on where they are now? Speak, spirits!

That's all for today, I got a mountain of work and a pot of coffee to work through. See you guys tomorrow!


Further reading: 1982 article on Duncan Hannah

For the Love of Lindsey (Buckingham)

Good morning!

I just can't hold it in any longer, folks; I have to spread the gospel of Lindsey Buckingham!

I love how hilariously realistic this looks because of the similar body language.

My eagle-eyed sister saw the listing for last Thursday's show at the War Memorial Auditorium a while back, told me, I told Matthew, and Matthew managed to login just as they went on sale to score us tickets second row, center section. I made the above Paint program collage to celebrate the occasion on Facebook and joke about how my proximity to one of the major creative forces behind one of my very favorite bands was going to practically touching distance...little did I know that when it said second row, center section, it really mean LITERALLY DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF LINDSEY BUCKINGHAM AT A DISTANCE OF LIKE SIX FEET. I think I actually made eye contact with him at one point. You could see what color his eyes were from where I was! It was....significant.

I did not take this picture, but this is only slightly closer to him than I was at a show earlier this year. You could cut glass on those cheekbones! Source

Now, let me make it clear here that I do not like to go to concerts. I do not go gaga over personal appearances. I have an almost nineteenth century big game hunter outlook on it where if I saw some famous person I admire at Target for thirty seconds and I was able to snap a picture, that would count as much as seeing Carnegie for three hours. I'm ashamed to admit that I get so bored during concerts. I'm standing, I'm listening, I'm standing and listening-- mainly, I want to see what the person looks like in real life and then get a drink and a t-shirt and wait it out until I can go home. And listen to their records while doing something else. It always made me uncomfortable in high school when you'd be over at someone's house and they would go, "Hey, listen to this awesome new song!" and you would have to sit there, nodding along and specifically "listening" to the song. I am too frenetic for all that, folks!

           

Somehow, though, through an hour-long set list that began promptly at 8:00, I was mesmerized the entire time. Besides the fact that he's an insanely good, classical-style, for-real guitarist, Buckingham's self-penned songs have the kind of lush arrangement that even in a solo, one-man show, feature long passages you feel you could actually curl up inside of. My favorite from the show were "Bleed to Love Her" and "Go Insane". The latter is funny because the album version just does not do it for me at all-- in spite of his much maligned-for-no-reason, I-thought-it-was-flippin-fantastic production work on my second favorite Mac album, Tusk, his two solo albums of the eighties', Law and Order and Go Insane, suffer from near-fatal overdoses of Miami Vice style synth sounds and overlays. Stripped down to just the guitar and Buckingham's always-just-on-the-edge-of-desperate vocals, THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONG. Who knew it was hiding behind all drum tracks and vocal distortion effects? "Bleed to Love Her" was also a heart-stopper...and I almost actually cried hearing the instrumental "Stephanie", as it was the background music for about 80% of my college years. Isn't it weird thinking this song he wrote almost forty years ago broke my heart and put it back together again several times ten years ago, and here I was sitting six feet from him listening to it again? Being played? By him? It was too much for my sentimental little brain.

Stevie Nicks, I want this exact look from you, thanks, I'll be wearing this next week.

So, like I always do, I've plunged headlong back into a Fleetwood Mac obsession. About every six months, for the last fifteen years, I end up listening to Fleetwood Mac, Rumours, and Tusk on loop and diving back into some of my favorite music. In 1997, at the tender age of twelve, I was going through one of those completely-glued-to-VH1-all-summer phases you have in middle school. Back then, VH1's programming was primarily sixties' and seventies' nostalgia...re-runs of The Mike Douglas Show and The Midnight Special, shows like Eight Track Flashback that would feature Suzanne Somers VJ'ing videos like "Billy Don't Be a Hero" by Bo Donaldson and the Heywoods or "Knock Three Times" by Tony Orlando and Dawn...and TONS OF BEHIND THE MUSIC (you have no idea what a formative force this was on my still developing personality at the time). During a video countdown, I caught the recently released "Silver Springs" from Fleetwood Mac's reunion tour and album The Dance....aaaaand that was it. Totally obsessed with the band for the majority of my middle and high school years. Again, the intensity of interest would ebb and flow, but like David Bowie and Frank Sinatra, they're the first thing that comes to my mind when I think "all-time favorite music of all-time".

An oldie but goodie from Dec 2010...where are those earrings of mine?!

So! In summary-- if you're a Mac fan, catch Lindsey Buckingham's solo show which is still touring, or at least have a listen to Live at the Bass Performance Hall because in spite of being released in 2008, it's pretty much the exact show I almost died over last week. How does he keep his energy level up! I think he might be a Highlander.

Do you have a band that you perennial go gaga over all over again? Are you a Fleetwood Mac fan(atic)? Do tell, do tell.

That's all for today...see you guys tomorrow!

Photo Friday: WWII Part Two Edition

Good morning!

Well, you all (especially the ladies of you all) probably remember the hunka hunka burning WWII hotness that was Photo Friday last week...I told you at that point I'd grabbed all the war-era photos that were in that particular cigar box at a sale in Lockeland Springs last week. So guess what-- here's the rest of them! I have absolutely no context, but the photos were just too fascinating not to share in the end. Without further ado on this Friday morning, some snaps from the 1940's:

Isn't this the funniest set of couples? While the guy on the left looks handsome enough but very, very young, the guy on the right looks like iguana in the Laurence Harvey mold (who I'm still not entirely convinced is not part reptile himself). I wonder what the difference in the way they're wearing their hats makes on their service ranking (or does it? My dad would know)? Both the girlfriends appear to be in their thirties', but are no doubt much younger. Isn't it funny how pre-1970's girls always look fully grown at about the age of twelve, whereas dudes continue to be little dweebazons sometimes well into their thirties'. See the women's huge clutch bags and adorable dresses. I'm particularly fond of the quarter sized polka dots on the woman at right's dress. I wonder if either pair of these sweethearts got married!

This I love, as it looks like something directly out of a Ken Burns slow pan:

These two enlisteds are standing in front of a drug store and a sandwich shop in the city square of some small town...some of the notations from other pictures show that at least one of the guys pictured here is from Jasper, TN; but this may just be a town near their training base where they're on leave. I bought a coat exactly like either of these in high school at Music City Thrift for twenty dollars... heavy, olive drab with a brown-cast-to-it wool and cloth covered buttons that were stamped "PARIS" on the backs of them, with a oatmeal-with-brown-striped linen lining. My pappy, the WWII expert, said it was probably from Europe in the fifties', but was made to the exact specifications of this wartime-era coat. Matthew looks like a tiny Douglas MacArthur everytime he wears it (when I allow him to wear it, haha)...all he's missing are the jackboots! Don't these gents look dashing? Doesn't the guy on the right look a little like Clinton?

What's more impressive than driving a fully loaded 1944 Cadillac into the town square? Driving a fully loaded military vehicle into the square for a night on the town! Look at the sweet guy standing in front of the drug store (probably the same one from the Clinton picture). Can you see the old fashioned penny scale in the background?

Watch out, gals! There's some naked-to-the-waist men in the next shot!

Told you. Look how tough these customers look! I love the loose cut of their standard  issue khakis and the "What?! What now?!" body language of either.

In comparison to the raw strips of beef jerky in the last picture, we have an Andy Hardy type, who may be the guy on the double date with Laurence Harvey from the first picture. I'm not sure:

On the left, all civilian clothes plus a weird hat...on the right, full soldier clothes amongst civilians. Why does the one on the right look weirdly ominous?

Hey! Wartime years weren't all work and no play! Look at these goofsters! Could you actually die on account of how cute these guys look? This picture was torn from a larger one...we can only guess what mischief the redacted subjects of the larger print were up to.

Whoever lived in this house knew a lot of people in the service. Do you think they were all brothers, cousins, or something? Here's another guy I'm completely blank on connections to the earlier photos, but at least he's good looking enough:

Last but not least, I hate that Photoshop has murdered the old-timey doodle tradition of cutting out someone's face/body/etc from a larger picture and scribbling some funny jibberish around it. I have several scrapbooks where some wag has added horns/wings/webbed feet to an innocent, unsuspecting Kodak subject. This guy is apparently bindle-staffing back to Jasper, TN, and with the way you people have treated him, I don't blame him a bit! See how cartoonishly "off" the proportions are. I couldn't resist.

Well, hope you enjoyed a little history lesson first thing in the morning! Do you know anything about these pictures that would put them in better perspective owing to your fine knowledge of WWII clothes? Do you have any pictures of your parents or grandparents (or, as in my case, someone else's parents or grandparents) in wartime years that are either adorable or funny or stately? Do tell!

Have a great weekend, find GREAT STUFF, and I'll see you right back here on Monday. Til then!

Vintage Clothing Stores in the 1980's (Vintage vintage, 1978-1985)

Good morning!

Today's hot topic question at She Was a Bird, and I sure would like your ten cents on it....does it ever kill you, as a collector, to think of what was out there before you were out there?

Matthew's dad's wife April , possessed of one of the most impressive collections of Fiestaware and early color ceramics I've actually seen in real life, always tells me about how she and her brothers would go to junk stores and yard sales and flea markets in California in the seventies' and eighties' and pick up the kinds of things I drool over in collector cases at antique malls-- fifties' cowboy boots and velvet cloche hats and the aforementioned Fiestaware (she's got teacups, bowls, pitchers...it would honestly make Andy Warhol a little jealous) for practically the price of asking. "You would have loved it!" April says, and I don't disagree! Living in a world where the most remote outposts of the world still afford a person possessed of a vintage item and enough tech savvy to do a Google search the ability to ask crazy town prices on items that may or may not harbor anywhere near the value seen online is a frustrating reality for the retrophilic millennial such as yours truly. You want to tell the seller, sure, that Beatles' record is on ebay for $600, but it's because it's in mint condition and part of a limited, original run from 1965; thus it is not quite the same as your has-been-moldering-in-the-basement-for-forty-years-reissue-from-the-seventies-copy. ((steps off soap box)).

The thing that interests me most in terms of collectibles that were floating around in the seventies', eighties', and even nineties' which have skyrocketed in terms of price or have been hunted into extinction are of course clothes. 

How can you not love this woman? When in doubt, accessorize non-stop chiffon and velvet with a cockatiel.

Back in the day, if you wanted to dress like Stevie Nicks (see above, and let's be honest, what red blooded, fashionable American girl among us does not want to dress EXACTLY LIKE STEVIE NICKS), it was possible to go in an antique shop or vintage store, pick up an honest-to-God Edwardian lace dress and black opera shawl...or hook and eye boots....or a velvet cape and an ostrich plumed fan...and walk out without having put a lien on your house. In small cities, I doubt you needed much more than a good eye, the tenacity to do some digging in thrift store bins, and a pocketful of change. Some of this is the natural progression of collectors' items. The longer between the time the item was manufactured and the time you get it in your hot little hands has a lot to do with price and condition, as well as the scarcity of items, but so does the person naming the price and the condition it's been kept in lo these many years.

I love to think of a time, before I was even born, when people were discovering items that were vintage then, and actually new waaaaay before I was born. Do you ever stop and think about it, whippersnappers in my age group?

Below, I've collected for you a series of articles on beginner's vintage clothing buying and selling and collecting from the late seventies' and early eighties'. Read what you care to read and do tell: would you rather shop now, where you can have any item in the entire world at the click of a mouse, or then, when the hills were still filled with undiscovered treasures, but you had to actually go out and mine them yourselves? How do you think the vintage stores of the eighties' would stack up to the vintage stores of now, both online and brick-and-mortar, in terms of what they have and how much they charge for it?

Read on!

Cincinnati Magazine Apr 1983:

"A dollar for a beaded, low-waisted 20's tunic" just actually gave me a physical pang of envy. Now, in 2012 money, that's probably closer to $2. OH WAIT THAT DOES NOT MAKE ME FEEL BETTER AT ALL.

New York magazine, 1981:
I'm really interested in the idea of twenties', thirties', and forties' evening wear being out there on the market. I've had some decent luck at flea markets with pre-1950 clothes (I found a 1920's two-piece ensemble, mint condition, for TEN. DOLLARS. last month), but I hardly ever see them at estate sales. And online or in a vintage store? FOR.GET.IT. Unless you have money to literally light on fire, it's hopeless. The store on the right boasts a forties' Parisian gown at $164, but I'm convinced those are just "New York prices".

Texas Monthly, 1981; Cincinnati magazine, 1979:

Think about the couple in the ad at center, and take away their 80's hair and makeup stylings. That is STILL a great outfit on either of them! Try and say that about practically any contemporary look from the same year. The little fez-ish hat is killing me.

 New York magazine, 1984:
I WANT TO BE YOU, HARVEY RUSSACK. 26,000 square feet of vintage? Imagine how much fun. Imagine! I like the idea that he's branched out into weird, of-his-own design stuff outside of vintage ("laced boxer shorts" and "Catskills porch furniture"? Sign me UP).

 New York magazine, 1978:
 Note the "Vintage Clothing" section mentioned in the first column: "sports real finds from the 50's (think poodle skirts and applique sweaters) and the 40's (draped afternoon 'frocks'). A fashion goldmine of memories". In a department store JUNIORS SECTION, for goodness sake! Can you believe it? Wouldn't "buyer for the Macy's vintage clothes section" be possibly the hippest existence in creation in year of our Lord 1978? Besides being Stevie Nicks, of course.

 New York magazine, 1982: 
To the left, the Hudson River Museum in Yonkers had to "deaccession" (read: sell off) some of their clothing collection. ONE THOUSAND PIECES. This sounds like an actual dream I might have had. To the right, deadstock 1920's dresses that look exactly like something Mary Pickford would wear in one of her grown-up, shopgirl roles (think My Best Girl with Buddy Rogers), lace collar and all. The price is steep ($90 each is more like $200 now) but where could you even find one of these nowawdays? Hopefully at the next flea market (fingers crossed).

Orange Coast magazine, 1985 (more of the article if you click this link, plus pictures):
I WANT TO GO TO EACH OF THESE STORES. Also say, "Dior 'New Look' jacket for about $10" one more time and I will personally slap the taste out of your mouth, 1985 reporter. JEsum CROW how can that be a real thing. I'm going to keep telling myself she's lying.

What do you think? Have you been collecting long enough that you remember these bygone days of vintage shopping where everything was permitted? What's the most valuable vintage item you've ever scored for a criminally low price? Do you have any secret places that somehow have 1980's prices for 2012 vintage? Let a girl know!

That's all for today; I'm gonna go nurse my broken heart in some forties' movie books, but I'll see you tomorrow for Photo Friday!