Thrifters of the Lost Childhood

You sift through the rubble, carefully... meticulously... perspiration beading on your brow.

You know that it’s out there... somewhere. And you will not… cannot... rest until your quest has come to a close.

So you scan. And sort. And leave every site unearthed, but empty-handed.

You may go through this same process for days... months... years… before that unforgettable moment when your heart gives its jolt of recognition...

There, amidst the remnants of forgotten trends and broken promises, your eyes fall upon the treasure you’d presumed lost to decades and despair. You have recaptured it...

That missing bit of your childhood.

Oh, maybe it was the beloved stuffed bear your mother decided you’d outgrown when you were seven. Perhaps the Easy Bake Oven you’d asked Santa Claus for decades ago-- but never found under your tree. Or the comics that symbolized action and imagination-- but you’d sold in an unthinking moment to gain some extra cash.

If thrift stores are a source of new joys, they’re also a source for rediscovering what we’ve missed, or longed for. And a way to share those memories with a whole new generation.

Two good friends have found themselves thrifting hardcover Nancy Drews in this sort of recovery mission. For one, it’s rebuilding a collection lost after a stressful divorce. For another, it’s finally owning the books she rabidly read from the library, but couldn’t afford herself.

One fellow thrifter told a tale where Weebles-- those egg-shaped folks who “wobble but they don’t fall down,” remember them? ---were thrifted and passed down from father to daughter, beginning a whole new cycle of happy memories.

And my own recent thrift score of a book of 60s paper dolls made me wonder how many adult women still think fondly about their hours spent cutting out and dressing these fashionable little ladies-- but were parted from them by years, new homes, or a simple need for space? They’re only THINGS, after all. Just THINGS...

But things with memories attached do seem to weigh more.

For me, I admit blushingly my quest involves a younger Harrison Ford. Once my pre-teen mind came to grasp that Han Solo and Indiana Jones were, indeed, one and the same fellow (I was a little slow on the uptake), my minor obsession began.

I recall standing in Two-Guys Department Store coveting, in particular, a 12-inch Indiana Jones figure.

Who needed Ken when Barbie could have a swashbuckling Dr. Jones? (Anyway, my only Ken’s leg had been amputated by my younger cousin in a misguided surgery attempt. I think Ken’s relationship with Barbie suffered after that.)

But at fifty-cents a week allowance, saving up for such a purchase took some serious time. And in spite of will-power and waiting, Dr. Jones was sold out before I ever had the cash in hand.

Barbie and I both felt the pain of that one.

This saga was all brought to mind recently, when recently my thrifting buddy-- knowing my long-time Ford-fondness-- approached me in the Goodwill with a small, slightly beaten box. “Do you want this?” she asked.

It was a 1984 “Adventures of Indiana Jones” role-playing game. Inside the box were stories, maps, character information and even the worksheets of the kid who’d owned it...

The kid who’d be about my age now.

My friend and I wondered if that kid even recalled the game, or knew it was gone. If he’d long moved out of his parents’ home into one filled with his own family, and left the game behind in the haste of his journey toward shining adulthood. We wondered if “gramma” hadn’t simply decided to do a bit of down-sizing, and one day the game’s exact whereabouts would be a mystery to them all.

I took the game up to the register surrounded by a fog of reminiscence, wondering if someday that elusive Indiana Jones figure would find himself in the thrifts, as well. Maybe a little worn. A little tired. Missing his hat or bullwhip. But still strong, dashing and ready for anything.

And that’s the real adventure; you never know when it comes to thrifting. It’s all out there somewhere. All you have to do is look.

Thrifters of the Lost Childhood

You sift through the rubble, carefully... meticulously... perspiration beading on your brow.

You know that it’s out there... somewhere. And you will not… cannot... rest until your quest has come to a close.

So you scan. And sort. And leave every site unearthed, but empty-handed.

You may go through this same process for days... months... years… before that unforgettable moment when your heart gives its jolt of recognition...

There, amidst the remnants of forgotten trends and broken promises, your eyes fall upon the treasure you’d presumed lost to decades and despair. You have recaptured it...

That missing bit of your childhood.

Oh, maybe it was the beloved stuffed bear your mother decided you’d outgrown when you were seven. Perhaps the Easy Bake Oven you’d asked Santa Claus for decades ago-- but never found under your tree. Or the comics that symbolized action and imagination-- but you’d sold in an unthinking moment to gain some extra cash.

If thrift stores are a source of new joys, they’re also a source for rediscovering what we’ve missed, or longed for. And a way to share those memories with a whole new generation.

Two good friends have found themselves thrifting hardcover Nancy Drews in this sort of recovery mission. For one, it’s rebuilding a collection lost after a stressful divorce. For another, it’s finally owning the books she rabidly read from the library, but couldn’t afford herself.

One fellow thrifter told a tale where Weebles-- those egg-shaped folks who “wobble but they don’t fall down,” remember them? ---were thrifted and passed down from father to daughter, beginning a whole new cycle of happy memories.

And my own recent thrift score of a book of 60s paper dolls made me wonder how many adult women still think fondly about their hours spent cutting out and dressing these fashionable little ladies-- but were parted from them by years, new homes, or a simple need for space? They’re only THINGS, after all. Just THINGS...

But things with memories attached do seem to weigh more.

For me, I admit blushingly my quest involves a younger Harrison Ford. Once my pre-teen mind came to grasp that Han Solo and Indiana Jones were, indeed, one and the same fellow (I was a little slow on the uptake), my minor obsession began.

I recall standing in Two-Guys Department Store coveting, in particular, a 12-inch Indiana Jones figure.

Who needed Ken when Barbie could have a swashbuckling Dr. Jones? (Anyway, my only Ken’s leg had been amputated by my younger cousin in a misguided surgery attempt. I think Ken’s relationship with Barbie suffered after that.)

But at fifty-cents a week allowance, saving up for such a purchase took some serious time. And in spite of will-power and waiting, Dr. Jones was sold out before I ever had the cash in hand.

Barbie and I both felt the pain of that one.

This saga was all brought to mind recently, when recently my thrifting buddy-- knowing my long-time Ford-fondness-- approached me in the Goodwill with a small, slightly beaten box. “Do you want this?” she asked.

It was a 1984 “Adventures of Indiana Jones” role-playing game. Inside the box were stories, maps, character information and even the worksheets of the kid who’d owned it...

The kid who’d be about my age now.

My friend and I wondered if that kid even recalled the game, or knew it was gone. If he’d long moved out of his parents’ home into one filled with his own family, and left the game behind in the haste of his journey toward shining adulthood. We wondered if “gramma” hadn’t simply decided to do a bit of down-sizing, and one day the game’s exact whereabouts would be a mystery to them all.

I took the game up to the register surrounded by a fog of reminiscence, wondering if someday that elusive Indiana Jones figure would find himself in the thrifts, as well. Maybe a little worn. A little tired. Missing his hat or bullwhip. But still strong, dashing and ready for anything.

And that’s the real adventure; you never know when it comes to thrifting. It’s all out there somewhere. All you have to do is look.

Celebrating the Truly Good Eggs: My Recipients of the Nice Matters Award

The Internet: it can be an anonymous world where folks have left their manners at home...

So when online debate can all too easily deteriorate into insult and injury, it becomes even more important for us to really THINK about what we say to each other and the way it comes off to others-- especially when people can’t see the good-humored twinkle in our eyes.

Trash-to-Treasure talent, Sher-- AKA “Grinnin’ Gramma” over at the OldTimeMeArtist blog-- has always displayed her great ideas and wit online so that the only thing distressed around HER is the furniture. That’s why it’s so meaningful to have had the “Nice Matters” award passed along to me by this lady.

And now-- now I have the pleasure to pass this award along to a few Internet friends that I think are truly deserving. To be honest, my path online has been touched by an amazing number of people who merit the award, so choosing was not easy. But here we go:

First, I have an unusual abundance of “Rose Mary’s” to share this with. How it is I know two incredibly kind “Rose Mary’s” who both blog about vintage things? I haven’t calculated the probabilities on that one, but it’s still pretty entertaining...

--Now Rosemary over at Rosespetitemaison is an adventurous crafter and flea marketer out in California. Through her blog, she makes everyone feel they’re a part of her community. She’s a good soul, and she’s been working herself hard preparing for her daughter’s wedding. So keeping her upbeat disposition during this serious stress totally earns her this award.

--RoseMary at LifeinaCordwoodCabin is a consistently caring individual who always purports herself online with class. She also knows a lot about a lot of different topics-- books, vintage items, history-- and manages to share that information in a way that’s informative and never condescending.

--CheapDiva, and Gigi of UndertheWillow have both proven their niceness in remarkable, tangible ways. CheapDiva actually sent a fellow CottageLiving forum member what she needed for taking digital pictures of her beautiful home. And Gigi unexpectedly treated another member who had been ill with a package of items to help her on her road to recovery. Just watching this occur showed me how thoughtful people can be.

--And Cookie at TheThriftShopper.com-- Cookie manages to juggle a lot-- a real job, learning to sew, planning and editing the National Thrifter Magazine-- and even when she doubts her abilities, she always gets through it with real style.

--Lastly, I’d like to send this to my friend Greg over at the MidnightGarden because outside the blogosphere Greg puts up with me-- which I appreciate muchly. And he has a great knack for looking at even the worst day with humor. (And no, Greg, I don’t expect you to do a feature on this on your blog... These are guilt-free awards, so no further tagging is required. You can relax. :-) )

So, many thanks the folks above for your “overall good-eggishness” (to quote fine ol’ PG Wodehouse) and for helping make the Internet a nicer place for everyone.

--
Oh, do you have a second?...

You might not want to go just yet-- click here to read this week’s second blog feature, “A Big Box o’ Inspiration” sharing my favorite decorating inspiration photos.

Celebrating the Truly Good Eggs: My Recipients of the Nice Matters Award

The Internet: it can be an anonymous world where folks have left their manners at home...

So when online debate can all too easily deteriorate into insult and injury, it becomes even more important for us to really THINK about what we say to each other and the way it comes off to others-- especially when people can’t see the good-humored twinkle in our eyes.

Trash-to-Treasure talent, Sher-- AKA “Grinnin’ Gramma” over at the OldTimeMeArtist blog-- has always displayed her great ideas and wit online so that the only thing distressed around HER is the furniture. That’s why it’s so meaningful to have had the “Nice Matters” award passed along to me by this lady.

And now-- now I have the pleasure to pass this award along to a few Internet friends that I think are truly deserving. To be honest, my path online has been touched by an amazing number of people who merit the award, so choosing was not easy. But here we go:

First, I have an unusual abundance of “Rose Mary’s” to share this with. How it is I know two incredibly kind “Rose Mary’s” who both blog about vintage things? I haven’t calculated the probabilities on that one, but it’s still pretty entertaining...

--Now Rosemary over at Rosespetitemaison is an adventurous crafter and flea marketer out in California. Through her blog, she makes everyone feel they’re a part of her community. She’s a good soul, and she’s been working herself hard preparing for her daughter’s wedding. So keeping her upbeat disposition during this serious stress totally earns her this award.

--RoseMary at LifeinaCordwoodCabin is a consistently caring individual who always purports herself online with class. She also knows a lot about a lot of different topics-- books, vintage items, history-- and manages to share that information in a way that’s informative and never condescending.

--CheapDiva, and Gigi of UndertheWillow have both proven their niceness in remarkable, tangible ways. CheapDiva actually sent a fellow CottageLiving forum member what she needed for taking digital pictures of her beautiful home. And Gigi unexpectedly treated another member who had been ill with a package of items to help her on her road to recovery. Just watching this occur showed me how thoughtful people can be.

--And Cookie at TheThriftShopper.com-- Cookie manages to juggle a lot-- a real job, learning to sew, planning and editing the National Thrifter Magazine-- and even when she doubts her abilities, she always gets through it with real style.

--Lastly, I’d like to send this to my friend Greg over at the MidnightGarden because outside the blogosphere Greg puts up with me-- which I appreciate muchly. And he has a great knack for looking at even the worst day with humor. (And no, Greg, I don’t expect you to do a feature on this on your blog... These are guilt-free awards, so no further tagging is required. You can relax. :-) )

So, many thanks the folks above for your “overall good-eggishness” (to quote fine ol’ PG Wodehouse) and for helping make the Internet a nicer place for everyone.

--
Oh, do you have a second?...

You might not want to go just yet-- click here to read this week’s second blog feature, “A Big Box o’ Inspiration” sharing my favorite decorating inspiration photos.

Big Box o' Inspiration

What is that big white wicker box up there? Why, that’s what Inspiration looks like!

“Funny,” you say, “looks like a portable file container to me.”

Okay, well, so I can’t put anything past you people.

But INSIDE this humble, Shabby Chic file container lurks a collection of the ideas and images that have moved me to decorate my home.

I LOVE decorating magazines. So when I see images of a room, a craft, or a piece of furniture that particularly makes me want to get out the paint or glue, I try to remember to save it in here for easy reference.

I thought you all might enjoy seeing just a few of the pictures I’ve saved over the years.

The following two were from the May 2003 edition of Romantic Homes.


What I loved in particular about these rooms were the zingy berry colors and the emphasis on rich textiles like velvets, tapestries and silks. I also really enjoyed the dramatic and quirky juxtaposition of things like classical busts, vintage signs and carnival masks.

You can see a similar feel to things with this photo, from the November 24, 2003 Victorian Decorating magazine. This parlor, too, has lots of color and texture. Yet the eclectic sense of the room gives a fun almost gypsy-like feel.

So these were the two magazine features that really helped me figure out how I’d wanted to decorate my master bedroom. As a result, I’d included velvet, lots of bright colors, some plaster and chalkware busts and an array of feather fans, suitcases, and vintage hats to add a sense of adventure to the room. These are photos of my own rooms...



From going through the magazines, I clearly learned I liked color. But I also discovered I liked the whitewashed and pastel look. Some of my favorite inspiration photos came from Romantic Homes’ January 2004 issue here...

And the May 2003 edition here...


What I‘d liked about these rooms was the sense of age of the painted woods, the neo-classical paintings integrated into the rooms, the use of statuary and the general whimsical nature of the look. It’s all very opulent, yet very aged, hazy and accessible.

I also liked this more traditional bedroom:

You can see the influence of these inspiration photos in just a few things in my own spare room-- like the Shabby Chic bedding, the architectural salvage mirrors, and the standing lamp...





And last, I just wanted to show you a couple of photos of a kitchen that had inspired me. This was in the August 2005 Country Living.



These were the pictures that reassured me that jadeite and green Depression glass could coexist-- and look right at home. It also was the layout that convinced me my kitchen might be in need of some retro-styled small appliances!

Well, that’s all there is for today. Do you have particular magazines or images that have inspired you in your decorating? Here’s hoping inspiration finds you this week-- no matter what you’re working on!

Oh, before you go, don’t forget to see the recipients of the “Nice Matters” awards. Click here.

Have a great week!

Big Box o' Inspiration

What is that big white wicker box up there? Why, that’s what Inspiration looks like!

“Funny,” you say, “looks like a portable file container to me.”

Okay, well, so I can’t put anything past you people.

But INSIDE this humble, Shabby Chic file container lurks a collection of the ideas and images that have moved me to decorate my home.

I LOVE decorating magazines. So when I see images of a room, a craft, or a piece of furniture that particularly makes me want to get out the paint or glue, I try to remember to save it in here for easy reference.

I thought you all might enjoy seeing just a few of the pictures I’ve saved over the years.

The following two were from the May 2003 edition of Romantic Homes.


What I loved in particular about these rooms were the zingy berry colors and the emphasis on rich textiles like velvets, tapestries and silks. I also really enjoyed the dramatic and quirky juxtaposition of things like classical busts, vintage signs and carnival masks.

You can see a similar feel to things with this photo, from the November 24, 2003 Victorian Decorating magazine. This parlor, too, has lots of color and texture. Yet the eclectic sense of the room gives a fun almost gypsy-like feel.

So these were the two magazine features that really helped me figure out how I’d wanted to decorate my master bedroom. As a result, I’d included velvet, lots of bright colors, some plaster and chalkware busts and an array of feather fans, suitcases, and vintage hats to add a sense of adventure to the room. These are photos of my own rooms...



From going through the magazines, I clearly learned I liked color. But I also discovered I liked the whitewashed and pastel look. Some of my favorite inspiration photos came from Romantic Homes’ January 2004 issue here...

And the May 2003 edition here...


What I‘d liked about these rooms was the sense of age of the painted woods, the neo-classical paintings integrated into the rooms, the use of statuary and the general whimsical nature of the look. It’s all very opulent, yet very aged, hazy and accessible.

I also liked this more traditional bedroom:

You can see the influence of these inspiration photos in just a few things in my own spare room-- like the Shabby Chic bedding, the architectural salvage mirrors, and the standing lamp...





And last, I just wanted to show you a couple of photos of a kitchen that had inspired me. This was in the August 2005 Country Living.



These were the pictures that reassured me that jadeite and green Depression glass could coexist-- and look right at home. It also was the layout that convinced me my kitchen might be in need of some retro-styled small appliances!

Well, that’s all there is for today. Do you have particular magazines or images that have inspired you in your decorating? Here’s hoping inspiration finds you this week-- no matter what you’re working on!

Oh, before you go, don’t forget to see the recipients of the “Nice Matters” awards. Click here.

Have a great week!

Craftastic or Craftacky?

Crafts, like any other creative endeavor are subject to taste-- and sure, we’ve all have had our crafting mishaps. (If you missed it, you can read about some of my bigger oopsies here.)

But have you ever turned to crafting books for new ideas only to guess that the reason these ideas had been previously left untried were because-- either aesthetically or functionally-- they didn’t quite cut the mustard?

This week, I’d like to share with you a few projects of the non-mustard-cutting variety uncovered in just one craft book, “Fabulous Ideas for Flea Market Finds.” Now I’d like to preface this with the fact that these are my opinions only, so if you’ve had one of these projects in your home and it’s become a cherished heirloom... hey, that’s great. I can totally respect that. May it continue to be passed down from generation to generation...

...In a house that isn’t mine. :-)

I’d also like to mention there are a number of projects in this book that I can actually see myself doing...

Those are not the ones I’ll show you today.

Okay. Let’s get to it!

By now, you all know about my lamp addiction. And I do like a certain amount of sentimental clutter in my decorating. But some of these projects just really make me want to break out the trusty can of Pledge.

Like this lamp.

It’s a pocketbook...

It wears pearls...

It has a hat...

And a handkerchief...

And poor enough vision to require specs (which, frankly, makes me lose confidence in the lighting power of the lamp).

It also seems to wear a corsage.

And a marcasite pin.

And gloves.

Okay, I don’t know where this lamp is going, but I REALLY hope it catches its cab soon.

It makes me feel like my Great-Aunt Alda has been reincarnated by General Electric.

And can you imagine DUSTING this lamp?

I mean, I have my share of dustcatchers around the house-- but most of them don’t involve cleaning half an outfit.

Okay-- that’s just one lamp, right? Indeed!

So how do you like this one?

The caption reads, “A tabletop plant stand is attached to a wooden lamp base for a unique way to display old mismatched teacups. Antique floral stationery and crocheted lace trim embellish the shade.”

So that’s one... two... three... four teacups on this lamp?

And gloves?

And dried flowers?

And a hankie?

So, um, how exactly do you reach under there to turn the lamp on without knocking that top teacup into oblivion?

And while I kind of like the shade, did I read that right?-- did they use “antique” stationery to decoupage directly on this lampshade?

Just take this 100 YEAR OLD stationery and slap it on a lampshade?

Okay, well, maybe we’d be safer with a nice refurbished floor lamp, then...

...Or not.

This one reads, “A hand-me-down floor lamp can be brought back to life by attaching a watering can to the base and adding an abundant arrangement of blooms that appears to be stretching toward the light. A tiny birdhouse makes a ‘tweet’ accent.”

Can you imagine the look on the face of the husband who’s come home from work to discover the reading lamp beside his favorite chair has overgrown with “tweet” accents?

And any cats in the home would have a new personal playground.

“What is Mister Fluffy doing perched way up there?”

Why, looking for wrens in the “abundant arrangement of blooms,” of course!

All righty-- last project.


Who is that under the gigantic rosebuds and ribbon? Why it’s great-grandma Mildred and her sister Maureen! And we’d know that immediately, if they weren’t using those dried flowers as some sort of awning.

This caption reads, “Each pretty as a picture, ‘orphaned’ saucers become lovely little frames for antique photographs. Just cut the photos...”

Um-- excuse me one moment while my heart palpitations subside...

...

...

Okay. I’m back...

Did it say CUT the antique photos?

We’re CUTTING ANTIQUE photos to be glued to saucers and embellished with overly-large dried flowers?

CUTTING antique photos... CUTTING antique stationery...

Are you beginning to suspect these writers don’t own, say, a SCANNER? Or can't get to a PHOTOCOPIER?

Imagine-- a whole pictorial family history, converted to saucer art....

And possibly also cropping out half the relatives, just so we can have Grandma Betty’s pompador period displayed in full coiffure on heirloom china. I mean look at the SIZE of that woman’s noggin on that saucer...

Proportionally, something is definitely off.

So, in summary, what have we learned today?

--Scanning or photocopying antique paper products is SMART and GOOD and will not leave the relatives hating you for being scissor-happy with family history...

--Tabletop vignettes are a great idea for a romantic home-- but they don’t all have to be attached to the lamp...

--And crafting and functionality really can exist together in harmony, but never when blocking one’s path to the lightswitch.

I hope you’ll join me next week, when I share with you the flip side of this-- the inspiration photos I love.

Oh, and one more thing before you go. If you have an extra moment, you might want to click here to read about the recent internet Tag that sidled up and got me-- and travel with me to one of the Wonders of the World...

Otherwise, have a lovely week! And see you soon.