Vintage Hoarders Cleanout

Good morning!

I did something I thought I would never do this weekend-- I actually bit the bullet and gathered up something like eight boxes of hoarded vintage clothing to send to the Family Tree vintage clothing sale this weekend. Ugh, it was with a heavy heart that I did it, because as you guys know, I am really almost weirdly into collecting and buying old clothes, and I am even WEIRDER about "That's mine! It belongs to me!". Maybe it's just the way I'm wired, but I invest so much emotion and thought into the things I buy that it's actually gives me a tiny little heartache to let go even the most oversized, unattractive muumuu because "Hey! I bought that in Knoxville in 2004!" and remember, photographically, the exact circumstances of and thrill I got out of that particular purchase.

But! I am trying to turn over a new leaf. And I hope some of these things find a new and even better home! I thought as a final fond adieu, I would take you through some of the photos from the Estatesales.net listing for the sale, and tell you about what made each piece special enough in the first place for me to buy.

• The "chubby" fur coat on the left was an estate sale find in Inglewood about three years ago. It still smells like the cedar chifforobe from whence it came, and I remember trying it on, in the house, on a super hot summer day, and going, "Quick! It fits! Help me get this off!" to my dad as my face beaded with sweat.  Trying on fur coats in the summer-- a unique problem of the vintage clothes hoarder. I remember I passed up a Mexican embroidered tourist jacket at the same sale and am still mad at myself for it (it looked almost exactly like this). Goodbye, friend!
• The coat on the right was at Music City Thrift three or four years ago. I had dropped the first thirty pounds of a massive weight loss initiative I undertook that year and was on my way out of the store when the jewel-tone red of the wool knit nap made me look twice. "These things never fit me", I said to myself in that sad sack tone reserved for clotheshorses who are not quite clotheshorse size, but was amazed when I tried it on and it DID fit. I wore this, with a big gold brooch pinned to one side, on a trip to St. Louis to visit Matthew's memaw with our friend English Rob in tow, who said, as I recall, "E-LIZA, you look just like Audrey Hepburn in that coat! It's quite nice, isn't it?" and made my whole month. While it's too big for me now, what a dream of a coat it was! 

•  The red dress was from Rivergate Goodwill, and while it's from the late eighties', it just yells mid-fifties' when you have it on. I wore it on every "red" holiday for an entire year (V-day, Fourth of July, Bastille day, etc, etc) and the cheery stripes pattern is a showstopper. The shoulders tie in little bows and I used to have a heckuva time doing them myself, so more often than not Matthew would do them up for me. The waist and bust is too big on me now and it just doesn't look right belted. Au revoir, Red!
• Orange dress is from a thrift store in Alabama in 2003, on a trip to visit a freshman year of college friend of mine's family and to buy lottery tickets (this was pre-lottery in Tennessee...how retro). I got this, a dress with tiny gingham checks and prints of chickens and farmers from the early fifties', and two other dresses in the upstairs of an antique store that isn't there anymore, in the Scottsboro town square. There were rickety, weird, handhewn steps up to the second story of the building, and once again, it was HOT. Crystal bought a ladies' black hat from the fifties' and I think a vintage umbrella. It's amazing to me that these details stick with me ten years later, and I somehow can't remember where I parked in the garage of any given afternoon.
• At right, one of my coworkers was moving into a condo and said she had some vintage stuff to sell, including this dress. While I liked it then as I do now, the wrap-around style of the ties has always confounded me! How do I make sure it stays "shut"? I hope the next owner is more dexterous in it than me, because that rose print is to die for. 

• The brown dress has such a neat, almost pin-tucked detail on the center stripe and collar. I bought it at Goodwill when it was scandalously tight on me, and now that it isn't, it just doesn't fit me right. Will I ever learn to stop buying shift dresses that are straight up and down? If they are too tight in the top, they're too tight in the hip! If they fit in the hip, they are too loose at the top! This is the way of the world.
• The poppies print was an estate sale find from Donelson, maybe four years ago. I wore this on the first double date my high school friend Alyx and her husband Brian went on with us, when we reconnected after college. I was always in denial over how it was two inches too short to be a true maxi length on my six foot figure, and how the waist was like six inches above where it should have been (it's an empire waist! I would tell myself. It was not). But isn't that print a knockout? It has a matching belt, might I add.
• Ditto on the white op art number on the right. Estate sale in Bellevue, maybe five years ago, where I had an entire pile of dresses that belonged to a very fashionable, very petite woman in the late sixties' and early seventies' (which just made for mini dresses on me that should have been normal length dresses on a shorter woman). This one has an outrageously outsized collar (see the tip peeking over the sleeve opening?) and looked great with a sweater over it and the collar sticking out to high heaven.

• My mom's brother Harold's shirt from the fifties'-- never fit me or anyone I knew right, will no longer fit Harold...off you go! Pearl snaps are so cute.
• 70's safari style men's leisure jacket from Music City Thrift...Matthew would have to be about a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier for this to fit correctly, but it was still worth a shot. Outrageous! Who wore this to begin with? I remember thinking "what is this?" when I found one pocket bulging out conspicuously ..it was the belt, which, if you ask me, really makes the whole thing.
• You can't tell from here, but this Sears' Fashion Place (or maybe Towncraft?) Hawaiian shirt has little Hawaiian men casting nets over waves of fish on it. We bought this at an estate sale in order to escape an extremely strange, quasi-estate sale held in a (very chatty, though very Jame Gumb like) guy's house within spitting distance of Ellington Parkway. So long!

•  GORGEOUS blue velvet bodiced, op printed skirt dress from Lanz in the center... I always lie to myself about my actual measurements when ordering from Etsy, and this dress was a pocketbook casualty, accordingly. I am more sad that it didn't (and doesn't) fit than that I snookered myself out of whatever low price it was.
• Pale green lace dress with side bodice zipper at right...must be worn over a slip. Sometimes, instead of a light colored slip, I would wear a black slip and crinoline under it for contrast. Once again, if it wasn't too big, I would never part with it.

•  Not one, but TWO lettermen jackets! A girl should be so lucky! Both from Goodwill. Both never worn more than once by me. Farewell!

•  Two more dresses I bought and never wore...but how great are the prints on either one!

• Last but not least, my secret favorite of the bunch-- a "Country Set" labelled, crazy cute yellow and orange cardigan with what looks like a child leading a horse and its rider atop the upper half of the knit. Who even thinks this stuff up?! It was too cute to leave behind, but is possibly actually a child's size (or a tiny, TINY woman's size), so I hope that much smaller person finds it and loves it as much as I did!

There were more, but I don't want to bore you to death. Any tips on the grieving process that follows a spring cleaning cleanout? How do you choose what stays in your wardrobe and what gets a new a life on the streets?

If you're interested, this sale will be running Friday and Saturday out at Family Tree's brick and mortar location on Nolensville Road. You can, once again, see the listing here. I sent a LOT more stuff out there, so if you're in Nashville, here's a unique chance to shop my closet, as well as those of other fashionable vintage ladies who are consigning at the sale. Amongst them is Eartha Kitsch, who deserves a shout out for having helped me schlep these things out there on Monday...thank you, Eartha, for providing moral support and galpower! Also, thank you, Family Tree, for (unknowingly) letting me jack these photos from your website, and take a trip down clothes-memory-lane just one last time. :)

My cleanout theme song, obviously:

That's all for today-- see you back here tomorrow!

Van Heusen Shirts (1947-1952)

Good morning!

I'm here to sing the weird praises of this mid-century Van Heusen shirts. After seeing this strange, illustrated spokesperson, who looks like the son of Rod Taylor and Elizabeth Taylor, how could I not? His violet eyes are piercing your soooooul:

It's funny, but as much women's wear and associated products advertising as you see in forties' and fifties' Life magazine, from cold creams to stockings to hats, there's a relative lack of men's wear representation in the back pages. And what there is, is WEIRD. Check out these spreads for Van Heusen. I immediately associate the brand with terrible nineties' sport shirts, the semi-pseudo-retro kind you'd see someone trying to emulate Swingers in, at Goodwill. Because, well, that's been my main exposure to that label. Turns out, Van Heusen has been making every kind of men's wear since 1881, having invented the "soft fold" collar in 1921 and thus effectively replacing all the stiff, startched collars that came before. I maligned them for no reason! They can't help if they had to stay up to date with horrible trends circa 1996!

In spite of their historical contributions to the shape and state of starch in American collars in the early twentieth century, I have to tell you, by 1947, they'd just gotten strange. Check out this two page spread for "aquatone" shirts coming out that fall:

Those girls are as distracting as they are strange! The point of the ad was to tout the "washability" of these new shirts, to which, coming from a household in which my mother would literally not allow me to buy clothes that were dry clean only, I can understand the appeal. The way the women's bodies are not quite as in focus, even for being in translucent water, and yet their pin-up faces have crystal clarity...what is going on here? Also, why are those shirts like four time the size of an average woman when folded? Inquiring minds want to know!

The next one features a dopey 1890's photographer in Parisian art smock and beret, beseeching us to be quiet, like the soft speaking colors of these new Van Heusen shirts. Do you see what I mean about the tone supposedly being whimsical, and missing the mark by a country mile?

I kind of like this one, but again, it's bizarre. The girl's frou frou, alpine-inspired ribboned dress and whatever is going on in her hair is actually something I would wear in a heartbeat, but it still doesn't make good sense we're kissing across a clothesline because of his striped shirt. I am not sold, Van Heusen! I am not sold. Now, if you were selling the ensemble on the left, I could totally get behind that...but we've established that you are not. And that I am sadder for that fact:

 Yes, I get the Sadie Hawkins-type vibe in this one, but you're going to have a hard time convincing me that a Comfort Contour collar is enough to drop three beautifully dressed women to their stockinged knees for love of you. You old priss!

This 1952 ad had a whole group of guys, smug of head, wearing of Van Heusen. I kind of have a secret crush on the young Joseph Cotten lookalike in the upper right hand corner, and the Professor Jones third from the left in the second row. That yellow collar is a hoot (top row, center) and the guy in the dark shirt and light tie looks like either a Macaroni Grill manager or a wannabe gangster (maybe both?).

But ah! You lost me at sleepwear. WHY IS THAT MAN DRESSED IN A MANDARIN COLLAR? I really can't see any reason for any man outside of China wearing this style of dress. It looks cute on a girl! It does not look cute on this guy. I think the model in the tuxedo pajama is casting aspersions upon the man at right with his right eyebrow. You judge for yourself, though.

VH wins back major points for the names of these colors though. I like "Rhumba Red" and "Low-down Blue" so much it almost makes up for the Chinese collar. ALMOST.

 
As for one I didn't even include, what is with the weirdly racist text of this ad? There was one about a chieftan, and I was like, ah, well, you know, cowboys and Indians, whatever. Look at the angry African tribesman in the middle of that ad! Maybe I'm being overly sensitive, but the bone in his hair is a little much.

Do you agree with me? Are these Van Heusen ads' forced jollity a little much for the 21st century reader, or do you think they were always kind of lame, in spite of the broad appeal of their actual product (which looks cool!)? Which one of these shirts would you wear yourself or buy for the goodlooking gent in your life? Seen any weird vintage ads yourself lately? Do tell!

That's all for today; I'll see you guys back here tomorrow!

Weekend Finds: Coats-a-palooza!

Good morning!

I'll tell you what-- it is COATS, COATS, AND COATS up in this piece. This post is LOUSY with coats! I thought I would do my house a favor and rid myself of some of the old coats that are either too big or too worn for me to keep, and you know what? The karmic boomerang of this weekend involved me buying two new, super dramatic, super crazy coats to fill the void that the six or so I let go had created in hanger-space. So I'm actually still ahead on my closet cleanout, haha! I wanted to share a couple photos in this Monday post, in which most of my coat dreams came true. Wanna see?

Bonus cameo by Matthew and his iPhone's shadow in most of these :)

Vintage coats are often one of the last things to go when people are cleaning out their closets. Along with wedding dresses and formals, outerwear is one of the biggest clothes expenditures a pre-Forever-21 person was bound to make in their lives. Because, "you'll need a good coat"! While the entire ready-to-wear wardrobe of your average civilian is eventually relegated, sooner rather than later, to younger siblings, charity sales, swap meets, Goodwill...wherever used clothes are sent...I find that the really, really good stuff is what even an assiduous spring cleaner hangs on to, because hang it all, that coat was expensive when it was new!

Behold! The sleeve!

Which is probably why, to my delight, I found this black Persian lamb coat in an upstairs closet in a farm house in Bethpage, TN this weekend, a good seventy years after whoever bought it in the first place took it home with them. One of the sales ladies said it was her grandmother's, and my jaw about scraped the floor when I got it out into the light and realized how GORGEOUS the texture and pile of the wool was. I have been looking for something like this for forever, and to find one in mint condition, with beautifully belled sleeves and all luxurious fur? Forget it. At the checkout counter, I had two other fifties' dresses, a Patsy-Cline like sequined sixties' top, a velvet jacket-and-skirt matched suit, one fifties' swimsuit (!!), a black skirt, two sixties' lace tops, and some gloves, all of which came to about $21 with their respective second day discounts.... I think the break down of what I paid for everything clocks this coat at about $4. FOUR. DOLLARS. Possibly less. That morning, I was officially the happiest human being in whatever county that was. SCORE!

The one thing that's strange about it are these two ribbons sewn on either side of the inside lapel of the coat...one is stitched down about six inches, and the other runs maybe twelve. I was trying to see if it was meant to help you wear the coat over-your-shoulders-without-arms-in-sleeves, like the street pictures from the stylish woman on Photo Friday last, but in doing so, danged if I didn't pull the ribbon loose from its vintage stitched moorings. I'll tack it back down when I get a chance. In the meantime, any ideas as to its original use?

 

The tag on the inside reads "Weisberg Coats and Suits". While I couldn't find any information on the maker, you can see a map of the area where the physical store was located at the time of coat's manufacture, and it's  a pretty little neighborhood, surrounded by MLS listings for Victorian houses, so I guess it might be a tony part of town? If you're up North or familiar with that area, please let me know!

I'm on a huge, Dietrich inspired dramatic coats, and boots, and all slim lines and nipped waists kind of kick right now, so just for fun, here's the outfit underneath. How do you like that 1980's-does'-1880's velvet jacket (Goodwill in Hendersonville, $5.99)? Me, I like it fine. While hats are verboten at work, nobody's said anything about headwraps or huge bows yet, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed I can keep rocking this look on days I don't have enough time or chutzpah to do my beehive.

With the deal I got on the last coat, I almost feel foolish for having bought this one at Goodwill the night before, for the princely sum of $19.99, but what's done is done. This one photographs more wrinkled than it looks in real life, and I'm guessing it's from the mid-to-late seventies', with faux fur, faux leather trimmings,  and a French manufacturer's label on the inside (including a warning NOT to dry clean this coat, but to have it cleaned "by the furrier method" in spite of its imitation mink). I put it on and immediately felt like Emma Peel, so I had to get it. While other seventies' faux fur coats have passed me by, something about the depth and color of the material on this one made me stop once, twice, try it on, drag it around the store, and eventually buy it. I'm a sucker! What can I say.

Walking out into the cold in either of these coats this weekend physically buoyed my spirits up to the point of actual clothes-elation. I might look like I'm dressed for the dinner theater stage or a costume piece, but by Godfrey, that's how I want to look!

How about you? Do you have a vintage coat or two that changes your character description just by draping it over your shoulders? What do you think of fur and its imitators as a vintage style option?  I always have a secret suspicion that I look like Grizzly Adams in too-much fur, but the Crawford acolyte in me demands high drama in vintage outerwear choices. Any extraordinary luck at the estate sales this weekend? Let a girl know!

That's all for today-- if you're off for President's Day, I hope you're enjoying it! I think I'm going to run around to the Goodwills, myself. I'll see you guys back here tomorrow. Til then!

Photo Friday: Cavalcade of Fashion Edition

Good morning!

Hope you all survived another lovely holiday! It's almost the weekend, and you know what that means-- more vintage photos for your examination. This flickr set includes several itinerant-photographer-taken photos of this user's mom on the go in the forties' and early fifties'. The kicker? She made all these ensembles herself!

I know people say, oh, yes, my mother/grandmother/great-grandmother sewed, but I'm gonna get real with you-- my grandmother, yes she sewed, and yes she could stitch, seam, hem beautifully-- but all of her clothes were simple dresses or A-line skirts or shift tops. THIS lady, on the other hand, looks like she could have come out of the pages of Vogue dressed like that. EACH. OUTFIT. has some crazy natty, perfect detail that I'm just-now-noticing as I go back and look again. Wanna see?

Item one: The forties' fashion editor on her lunch break outfit:

• purposeful stride
• high brimmed, almost turban-ish, two-tone hat
• beautifully lapelled swing coat, worn arms-out, cape style, like some field general!
• black sack purse
• leather gloves
• fitted black dress. Do you see the little pleating detail on the abdomen. Why yes, and why YES, people.

Item two: The cool housewife on her errands outfit

• The sunglasses, the pearls, the earrings...just wow. You know she knew she was styling that day.
• The detailed-with-a-little-notch-at-the-front pumps. And her slim ankles and small feet! I finally have the former but will never have the latter. Some lives are marked by missed opportunities!
• The perfectly fitted, wide collared, pockets-at-the-hip dress. UM!
• The possibly-gold-metal purse. In my heart of hearts, I'm hoping it's something like this, though it might just be the light reflecting on a leather grain. 

Item three: The All American Beauty on her way to do some serious shopping outfit

• Playful, two tone composition of the dress with those BUTTONS, oh those buttons! What colors do you think this dress was?
• Freaking adorable high heel sandals.
• Another bag I wish I had right now, here with me, with my stuff in it.
• Look on her face like "Yes, why yes, I do look like a million dollars, cash. How nice of you to notice!"

Item four: The most stylish secretary from the fifty-second floor typists' pool outfit:

• The neat collar and sleeve cuffs, the mother of pearl buttons on her blouse
• The pleats in the skirt with the button detail, plus the cinched-but-not-too-cinched belt at the waist
• Those slingbacks are actual omg to die for.
• That purse isn't showing a lot of itself, but looks practical and cute.
• THE METAL NECKLACE TOPPER! Oh, the metal necklace at her throat is so GLAMOROUS. Look how even a "I'm going to work" outfit is all-the-way killing it!

Item Five: The movie star on her way to an opening downtown

• I think this is her cutest hair out of the bunch.
• She really knows how to accessorize! Note the bag, shoes, earrings and necklace are all turning up the volume on the coat and dress.
• Is this the way swing coats are meant to be worn? I always avoid (truth time, I always buy and then hoard instead of wearing) forties' and fifties' coats without closures (snaps, buttons, etc) because I feel like they look a little like an unbelted bathrobe (NO). Wearing one Diana Vreeland style as a kind of long cape with good shoulder-pads is something that had not occurred to me, but be sure that I'm going to try it out ASAP with a little Cain Sloan number I've been saving.

Item Six: The Wild Card outfit!

• Bet you didn't see this one coming! 
• The loudest of the bunch, this is also one of my favorites. I was re-reading...I think it was either Jackie Style or Audrey Style by Pamela Clarke Keogh (both of which are indispensable for the aspiring fashion icon, btw) a couple of months ago and the author advised against polka dots wider than a pencil eraser...while I still adhere to this as a rule, I think this woman's half dollar sized dots go really well with the unusual draping across the hip and bodice of the dress. All that loudness without the variation in shape would have been a little too much, but as is, I think she looks darling.
• Last thing: the belt matches, people! THE BELT MATCHES.

Which one of these woman-on-the-street clothing ensembles was your favorite? Don't you wish there were still men on the street to catch you in your Sunday best, on the fly, so you would have photos of you, in your prime, on your way to work to show your grand-kids? I sure do!

That's all for this week. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you back here on Monday! Til then.

Valentine's Day Is Upon Us!

Good morning!

It's not too late! You still have plenty of valuable daylight hours to make a fond remembrance of this holiday to your loved one. I think Matthew and I are going to spend it eating Indian food and cussing about stuff we don't like, rather than eating fondue and blowing bubbles at each other, but you know what? I would not have it any other way! He's a great mate. :) Viva Valentine's!

source

Most of my memorable moments of Valentine's Day come from elementary school. Not to say that I have not had my share of thoughtful gentlemen callers, with mixtapes and chocolates in hand-- but something about those pre-romance days of the holiday really stick in my mind! Like in kindergarten when my mother and I spent half the night of the 13th making a hub-cap sized valentine for my teacher, Mrs. P. The top of a Reebok sneaker box's cardboard served as the base, and much red tissue paper and doilies and glitter as the trimmings...I remember marching into the classroom that February morn, 1991, presenting the card with suitable flourish, muttering almost accusitorily, "MymomsaidIhavetogivethistoyou", and running back out into the hallway, like the feral cat I was. Recounting this to my mom afterschool, she was more than a little crestfallen that my opening line had undermined the work and determination that had gone into constructing the card itself, but, ah, well. My teacher that year was totally evil! She made me afraid to give her a Valentine!

source

I also remember a second grade Valentine's box, yet another shoebox (shoe box and V-Day are inextricable in my mind), this time decorated in Muppets stickers and my name in gooey, half-dried, caterpillar thick letters just below the slot. I wish I still had it! I have never been prouder of anything I brought to school in my life (except possibly an Ariel doll that had a detachable mermaid costume for show and tell). I remember Jurassic Park Valentines (see here) were the big thing that year, as the hype machine towards its summer blockbuster release was in full effect that spring, and dang, they were neat! I wish I still had those Valentines, too! I can't wait til I have kiddlings and we have to make those shoeboxes. By then, it'll probably be e-cards and I'll have to have their dad work on the best looking template for their inbox, but we will roll with the 21st century punches!

The school Valentine's dance in fifth grade is also the direct link to why, in any conceivable version of reality, I know all the moves to the Macarena. When I say I went to grade school in the nineties', I re-e-e-e-e-ally went to grade school in the nineties'!

 

source

I used to hate this late Victorian, early Edwardian phase of candybox Valentine's art. Blame it on that weird, early to mid 90's thing where you could buy semi-kind-of-sort-of-like 1910's jewelry, and you could wear sort-of-kind-of-crochet-and-lace version of floor sweeping Victorian skirts...it soured me on the whole concept. But you know, at my advanced age, I have completely turned a corner. Something about the diabetic-coma-inducing sugariness and the gorgeous lithographed colors of these postcards makes me want to run out and believe in true romance. Or at least re-read some Edith Wharton (and skip the last pages! AND SKIP THE LAST PAGES, PRETEND THEY JUST ENDED UP GETTING TOGETHER, FOR THE LOVE OF THE LORD). Look at this mustachioed man and his Gibson Girl in a lover's embrace! I was like, oh, how cute is this...and then I looked at the position of the man's left hand, and wondered if I shouldn't be a little offended, even in 2013. Discretion is the better part of valor, gentlemen!

source

This cupid needs to ask for some shorts for Valentine's day. Poor little guy! I do like his poem and his heart shaped lute, but the absence of clothes is really adding an unwanted undercurrent of eekiness to this. I swear I'm not just looking to pick a fight, get this kid some clothes!

source

Now, if only hearts really DID grow on trees. Look at the cupids making an orchard harvest out of this year's crop, the fruit of the cardiac tree! Careful, cupid, don't drop one!

source

I'm in love with 1900's-1920's comic strips, and these little cuties remind me of someone who would turn up in one (remember that picture of Buster Brown on Valentine's that I shared with you 1,000,000 years ago BC? BB, take note! This is how you do courtship without the creepiness!). Also, I would wear that dress in an adult size, now, now, NOW. 

source

Last but not least, a pair of sparrows delivering hearts the consistency of chiclets to the sea. Not sure what's going on here...still love it.

source

So! What are you doing for Valentine's? Even if you're not hitched up, I hope you at least treat yourself to some heartshaped candy or a Thin Man movie or two (my favorite single activity ever-- because whose company should you enjoy better than your own, plus or minus some sugar overload and some snappy 30's movie dialogue?). Can you remember your worst or your best elementary school Valentine's day? What's the worst or best present you ever got from a well-meaning beau or belle on the big holiday? DO TELL.

That's it for today...see you guys tomorrow for Photo Friday!

Lane Cedar Hope Chest Valentines (1939-1945)

Good morning!

And thanks for all the well wishes on yesterday's save the date cards-- I am now fully pumped and hyped up about planning out the aesthetic (doodly) parts of the wedding! I thought I would pay you guys back for all your kind comments with the very last word in what you should be getting for your sweetheart upon tomorrow's holiday, which is Valentine's Day. Ladies and gentleman, there is no gift so appropriate in the world to show your loved one that you care than....you guessed it....a Lane Cedar hope chest.

Being an estate sale junkie and old furniture hound, I was well aware of the existence of Lane Cedar hope chests; however, I had no idea of their romantic and almost magical properties. I was searching "Valentine's Day" on Google books, with a date range of 1939-1948 (my favorite years, natch), and surprisingly, result after result was about one of two things. The first was FTD florists, reminding you that that firm's agents are as fleet of foot in delivering last minute floral arrangements as they are reasonable on the prices of said floral arrangements; the second was Lane Cedar hope chests. People! This is an aggressive ad campaign! I feel like every spread comes with the byline: "NO. SERIOUSLY. LANE CEDAR HOPE CHESTS."

The colors, the floating cherubs, the doily Valentine heart....the blonde-as-a-blonde-on-a-bag-of-Sunbeam-Bread woman and her GI beau...the "this valentine makes two hearts beat as one!" byline...what is not to like about this?  The text goes on to read: "Happiness ahead? That is what this romantic Lane Valentine gift promises. For it starts tomorrow's home where love and joy will be everlasting." Now, I know that's spreading the treacle a little thick, but think about it in terms of a wartime enfianced young woman, whose significant other is "somewhere in Europe". Her suddenly semi-flush with army pay young man can send one home as a furniture based promissory note of the housekeeping they're to set up when he returns. How sweet is that? There's a specific byline that says "To Men in Service: Write factory if name of Lane dealer where chest is to be delivered is not known" in this one, and another in the below ad that adds "It will be delivered in accordance with your wishes". Lane wants to make sure your Suzy Sweetheart gets her cedar chest!

I love that the first thing I saw in this advertisement was not Shirley Temple (whose hair looks perfect, btw), but the line "A Million Maidens Yearn for this Romantic Love Gift". I. LOVE. HYPERBOLE. And alliteration. This line has all those other lines BEAT. I've never read her autobiography (mistake #1), but I do wonder why Temple didn't continue on with movies. In the one non-juvenile role I've seen her in, with Cary Grant and Myrna Loy in The Bachelor and the Bobbysoxer, she's cute as a button, even grown up! Do you prefer the waterfall with inlay model (center) , or the more traditional looking, tiny colonial legged version at the right?

This one may be my favorite. Look at the pretty future homemaker stowing away her trousseau linens and cute fitted sweaters in her "show her you care!" Lane cedar chest! Look at the guy on the right in his pilot's outfit, saying "That's what I'm fighting for!" My sentimental little heart is melting like a SnoCone. The text has more about how the cedar "destroys moths" (harsh language!) and how service people should order with confidence. So sweet. 

Writing this post makes me remember that I have actually seen a WWII ( maybe even Valentine's day!) gift of one of these out in the field. At an estate sale in a tiny house out in Woodbine, four or five years ago, the entire bedroom suite was cedar, and in a place of prominence in the neat-as-a-pin master suite, was a cedar chest a lot like the one in the above advertisements, all burled-wood and high gloss. Looked as new as if it were just purchased. And in the inside? A handwritten tag with "To [woman's name], From [man's name]",  and a 1945 date. Ugh! It would in no way fit in my house at the time, but I'm kind of sad now I didn't buy it. I hope it found a (new) good home.

What do you think? Will you be peeved as peeved can be tomorrow if there's not a hope chest waiting at the foot of the stairs for you with a love-red ribbon tied around it? Do you have a chest like this in your house? What kinds of things do you store in it (or do you just keep it around to destroy moths)? Let me know!

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

Save the Date Cards in Process!

Good morning!

I know I up and said I wasn't doing any wedding planning, but going to a bachelorette party over the weekend initiated many, many the question about what plans Matthew and I had for getting married, and gosh darn it, it's got me thinking wedding all over again! We've wanted to get hitched pretty much since we met, but the daunting task of putting together a major, crazy-huge event like the kind of wedding we would want has honestly had me cowed for lo, these many years that we've been engaged. However! I think it might be time to dip our toes in the waters of making it legal for real. Watch me have a complete melt down and just do a courthouse wedding, but something's gotta give before 2014. A five year engagement is too long for us!

My sister Sus and her fiancé Matt, who works as a graphic designer, very kindly offered to help me through their print shop connections with making my save-the-date postcards. Last night, I took Sharpie to paper and worked on a mock-up of the kind of thing I would want. 10-07-13 is a Monday in October, so it's just a placeholder date for whatever we end up deciding on, but what do you think about the layout and design? My secret, in my head aesthetic when it comes to doodles like this is MTV circa 1982-- think pastel-erized moon landing footage and animated doodles all over a still photo. I put together this picture of the two of us, inside a little wedding band Venn diagram. Imagine something like this if all the lines were a little more uniform and the cursive was an actual font instead of reflective of my checkered past in learning handwriting. My one regret is Bab's bucket-looking head...he's so much handsomer in real life! But this was the best I could do under pressure. How does it strike you? 

The back of the card, no duh, would just be our names and maybe the date again and the intimation that there will be some kind of filgree'd, formal thing to follow this, plus a shout out to whatever free wedding website we end up setting up.

After I scanned the above doodles and got some positive feedback from "the pro's", I grabbed a set of coloring pencils and went to work on the colors-- again, keeping that MTV look in mind, I wanted a palette that most closely resembled a pack of Fruit Stripe Gum...all bright colors and zebra stripes! What do you think? Is it better in black and white? These wouldn't be the final colors, but again, something similar to and in the same light-bright gradient family.

An earlier version of the same layout, with less crazy colors and lines....I think I like the "more is more" of the one above.

I have a history of doodling Matthew and I whenever I'm bored, but here's the only other "formal portrait" (haha) I've done of the two of us. Matthew's mom, Deb, took me to the Frist for the Golden Age of Couture exhibit, and one of the hands on activities upstairs in the kid's zone was a really neat "make your own print on fabric" thing. You were given a styrofoam rectangle and a dull-edged, pencil-kind-of-implement to carve out your image. An onsite assistant then took your carving, inked it up, and ran it through a little press that rolled the image onto the cloth. I think this turned out really well, if I do say so myself! Matthew had a moustache at the time, and don't we look dapper in shades of ombre!

For comparison, here's the real "us" on New Year's of this year. It is no trick of the camera, my head really is that big:

Earlier sketches, where neither of us look like either of us:

Look how reptilian poor bibi looks in the last panel! And how I look like a white, less pretty, slightly cross-eyed  Beyoncé. What was my hand doing?! I never said I was no artist. :)

Anyway, what do you think? If you're married or thinking about it, what did you do for your save the dates? I keep seeing all these amazing, printed-on-floral-hankerchief numbers, or ones-that-can-be-planted-because-they-secretly-contain-flower-seeds (our friends Michael and Elizabeth actually did that for their wedding, and it was actually awesome), but I think I just want something really handmade and dear, like my poor little sub-art sketchings. Is that lame?

When I get my act more together on planning, I'll let you all know! In the meantime, though, any advice you have, especially fellow Nashville peeps, would be very appreciated.

Til tomorrow!

PS: If you like ACTUAL art-type things, you should check on Matt and Sus's sticker page on Etsy, and Sus's personal art page. They're pretty dang good at what they do! I'm so happy they're willing to help me out. :)

Photoplay Advertisements (1935)

Good morning!

I hope everyone had a good weekend-- I am DOG TIRED from the trip up and back to Knoxville, but had a great time catching up with old friends. This morning, I was soothing my sleep-deprived little eyes with the welcome sight of thirties' issues of Photoplay magazine (available via the Media History Digital Library site, and what a site!), and thought I might share with you some of the advertisments that caught my eye in the Jan-Feb 1935 issues, between sightings of Joan Crawford's impossibly sleek figure and Shirley Temple in grown up clothes. Let's take a look!

One thing that has always fascinated me about 1930's advertisements is implied hyper-optimism as a byline angle. While the "have beautiful skin, be popular!" plotline of the above spread for skin-clearing Yeast Foam Tablets (great name, right?) is no more valid a marketing plot now than it was almost eighty years ago, I am just filled with a Miniver Cheevy like zeal for a time when people felt like if you just had the right thing, or you just worked hard enough, you could be anything, anybody. The girl in the top picture takes the pill and doesn't just become not-unattractive, or just not-popular, she becomes SUPER attractive and SUPER popular! "Am I happy now! A date every night if I want it!" the pretty, marcelled, blemish-free heroine crows from the final panel of the advertisement. That old American boot-strap mythos, with no sardonic edge, appeals to me so vividly that I want to go out and buy Yeast Foam Tablets, even though my complexion's fine!

Though I'm relatively sure as many men as women went to the movies back in the day, the celebrity photo magazine was apparently thought to be the unique province of ladies', and the preoccupation with lovely skin and perfect makeup is one of the dead giveaways as to who Photoplay thought of as their bread-and-butter advertisers' audience. Above, I think the "Catherine" of the article looks like a consumptive Mary Astor, but her George Sanders suitor, who is much younger than her own forty years, asks her "What keeps your skin so young and beautiful?". I might just be feeling catty, because I'm overcome with envy over that fitted hat and bow-embellished coat, but, well, we all have our shortcomings.

Eyelashes and eyebrows were seriously my number one concern as a teenager, and I can just imagine fifteen year old me reading this and thinking, "YES! I need that curler! And those tweezers! I WILL look like Myrna Loy!" Eyes being a particularly strong feature of mine, it was and is important to me that the lashes be as curled and dolled-up with mascara as possible, and that there be a clean slate of brow above it to frame the goods. "Kurlash" offers to help me with their products. See the tiny cartoon woman playing golf, the other competing in archery, and yet a third being under the surveillance of a heavily lashed, though disembodied eye? Who designs these things?

A great big "I WANT TO GO TO THERE"  to the "New York home of Hollywood Stars", The Park Central. $5 a day single in 1935 would be more like $80 a day in today's money, but today's lowest price for a single reservation I could find was $119. That's a third increase in price! You don't get a sitting room or a suite, just a single room with a king size bed and amenities that include "Air Conditioning, 32" Flat Screen HDTV, Spacious Work Desk, [and] Additional telephone in bathroom" (where's the radio I was promised?). Here's an ebay peek at the dance floor at the Cocoanut Grove...unfortunately, the Tom Cruise movie in the early 2000's lookin' Bar Bella has replaced the famous tree-shaded thirties' club. No fair! NO FAIR!


Feminine products, 1935. I know they were still as necessary then as they are now, but I am still just as shocked to see old school advertisements for them in magazines as I have always been. "Marjorie May's Twelfth Birthday", the name of the instructional booklet, sounds like a suspiciously ominous occasion to me.

















If my child said this to me....oooh, I should like to hear my child say this to me. Straight to the moon, Alice! Also, if my hands ever get that bad, forget Lux, I'm just wearing cloth gloves full time. I'm glad Mrs. Sayles could be more understanding, even under pressure of serving her bridge club, with her child.

Dick Powell, you old scamp. What are you doing inspecting my lipstick? Who cares if I look painted? Did you know that OH MY GOD VERMONT COUNTRY STORE carries a nostalgia reboot of this lipstick?  I've always wondered about the looks-orange-goes-on-another-color pigment of these cosmetics. Let me go ahead and grab my pocketbook.


You should already know from my personal second-favorite-hairstyle-of-all-time (beehive is still #1 in my heart), that the pinned braids above speak to me. The language of this ad is where I'm hung up. "Guaranteed first quality, sanitized, natural wavy human hair to match yours" sounds like either a dream come true or something from a horror movie. I wonder what these things looked like in real life. Was it as easy as that to follow "Hollywood's Latest Fashion Decree"?

What is with the woman on the left?! POOR WOMAN ON THE LEFT. I distract myself by thinking about playing a trumpet and becoming a famous thirties' woman bandleader. Move over, Benny Goodman! I've got my eye on the top spot!

And last but not least, a handful of products that were on one of the last pages of one of these issues. Do you not love the one at top right that quotes Thackeray to promote its "explaining male psychology for women" book? AND it comes in a "plain wrapper", in case your bratty kid brother tries to make fun of you for figuring out how to make the boy in your homeroom class fall madly in love with you, and to become your very own Garbo of the eleventh grade. I also like how glamorous the wave cap looks, when you know it's just a plastic bonnet the likes of which everyone's grandma used to wear out to the grocery store when it was raining.

Anyway, how was your weekend? Seen any eye-catching historical ads lately? Which of these would convince you to actually sign up for the product being sold? Make sure and follow the link at the top of this post if you're into classic Hollywood-- it's a GOLDMINE.

That's all for today-- see you guys right back here tomorrow for more flims and flams.