Patience

Secondhand shopping is often a lesson in patience--and conversely providence.  Sometimes, you are gifted with something you didn't even know you needed (desired!), while other times you have a specific need and you have to wait almost forever to fulfill it.

Moving from Indiana, several treasured items were jettisoned.  It wasn't that I loved them less, but simply that their appropriateness for life as it is now being lived no longer matched.  My faux bamboo china cabinet and bar were amazing, but so large and heavy it seemed better to find a new local home for them.  Likewise, the bedroom set originally purchased in Kansas (tall boy, long dresser and nightstand) were still in alright condition, but it was quite possible their delicate legs wouldn't make another move.  So again, a local happy home was located.  But, I have been living dresser-less--for almost a year--waiting to find that next perfect one.  Luckily, my closet it large and well-organized, with lots of shelves and places to put small baskets for socks, etc.  That is all behind me now, as the new dresser has been found!  With a single matching nightstand.  Both have clean and classic mid-century lines and are from Drexel, so you know they are well made.  They have white porcelain pulls which, with the simple design, are like pearls with a simple black dress: just the right about of pop.

Of course, this wonderful (life-changing!) find only made me hungry for more!  After meeting some friends for brunch, I popped into Dress Up's to see what they might have.  It was warm.  Very warm since they have no HVAC!  But, breezing through the store quickly yielded a couple of treasures at deep discounts:


A lovely little white and gold dish from Georges Briard.  It looks perfect on the new dresser.


Three, black lotus bowls.  Now reader, you know how I am about my little lotus bowls!  I can pass up a white one faster than you can say 'fried rice,' but I cannot resist a colored one.  I just won't make myself.  With another little yellow one picked up by M a month or so ago, I think that brings the total to twenty-five.  I think.  It's sad, because most of my lovelies are still packed away.  There is some room in the cupboards, but without a giant china cabinet or other display, it's easier just to leave them in boxes.  Likewise, I'm still searching for a bar to show off (and use!) all of my fantastic bar ware.  Don't worry, when I'm missing them I get a box of tissue out and scroll through some old post on MTSS. 


As a bonus, I found a note behind the drawer of the nightstand, a dream written quickly and ripped from a spiral notebook:

"I dreamed Allen came back to Midland and came over.  We talked for a few minutes and then he took my hand and said something like, 'come on, let's go--I wanna catch up on what I have been missing.'  I said, 'Allen, I haven't done anything like that since you left.' He said, 'I know (in that weird voice.)' I asked somebody--Nancy probably, what she thought about it.  She said I shouldn't put with it--I should tell him to go to hell.  By the way, he looked just like he used to."

Spooooky...

Change is Good

Apparently, the obsession with wooden platters and other pieces never ends. I picked this up at Goodwill last weekend and was thinking it would be good to fill with nuts and other nibblies for an interesting mix and presentation. Olives? With the little end pieces for the pits?

But, then I realized it would work even better on the dresser with the Asian-ish tins to organize cuff links, change and the assorted pocket items that need to be dispersed. Lovely and curvy, it was very happy to see it in place.

Egghead

A few posts back I mentioned I was looking for one additional 70s-inspired kitchen item to complete the arrangement that was intended to go above the sink. Found it: a far-out 70s egg plate which matches some coasters we have that say, 'wet.' I can't find them, but will post when they resurface. Strangely, this egg plate only holds ten deviled eggs. I guess that means you can eat two whole eggs (four halves) in the kitchen before you put them out for your guests! I've talked about deviled eggs on bigYELLOWbowl and the interesting parties we had where Molly would divide them among the guests in my post about pan-fried deviled eggs.

But, not only does this complete the arrangement for above the sink (I'll give you an installation view once its all hung.), but it also means I have a collection of egg plates. That's right, reader, three egg plates and as you all know: (repeat after me) "three is a collection."

The first plate is from the set of Canonsburg Temporama which features all kinds of great accessory and serving pieces. I call this the 'wedding china,' to differentiate it from the Metlox Shore Line, which is called 'the good china.' The Temporama egg plate is very specific in its use: for deviled eggs served when using the Temporama. It doesn't get mixed in with other things.

The second egg plate is pressed glass and has some lovely details. Since it's clear and glass, it is general in its use and can be mixed in with any matter of materials. It is the chameleon of egg plates.

The new egg plate, which will be decorative in use, could also be tossed into a very casual serving mix if you only had ten eggs. Otherwise, it will just hang on the wall and tell the world what it is. Egg.

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

Saturday's thrift shop thrift stop yielded a small bounty:

Friday, I had said, "What we really need is a small shelf in the hall for our landing strip." You know, the place for keys, wallets, mail and other things you pick up and put down as you come into the house. We have been using the ice bucket on the bar and it just looks junky. What did we find? A small shelf that will be a perfect landing strip. Of course, it's gold and will have to be painted. Orange!

Yes mother, I know I made you get rid of all of your Home Interiors decor items. Context, it's about context: one person's junk pile is another person's high style!

One of the few things destroyed in the move was the lovely white parrot that moved around the house, like birds are want to do. Sometimes he was on the entry table, other times in the bird cage. He is gone. But, the universe sent a replacement!

This sign seems like it should hang over the round kitchen table in your grandmother's kitchen. While it is not going in my dining room, I am going to hang it over the kitchen sink with a couple of other seventies-vibe kitchen decor items. Universe! One more, please.

Mitchell has a slight obsession with the lovely metal tins which you used to buy filled with treats, sweets or candies. This one has a hinged lid and is a great addition to the ever growing collection.

Thrifting ABCs (Part Deux)

A second installment of the very famous and much-discussed post, Thrifting ABCs. Look for the final installment (only six letters to go!) in the near future and, of course, a reprise of the entire alphabet. Maybe a book deal? Don't you think children would love it?


E is for elegance, as in “Burnt-orange colored phones are a true mark of elegance and refinement.” I don’t have phone service, but still need a one to work the callbox in my building. This beauty does the trick.


I is for indispensable, as in “A killer collection of glass jars with amazing designs on them is really indispensable to day-to-day existence.”


K is for killer, as in “That wood bowl with spoon is going to look killer on the coffee table filled with M&Ms.” Can you have too many wood accessories? I don’t think so. I have platters, large and small, but this unique and funny dish is a wonderful addition to the collection. Killer.


M is for mine, as in, “Hands off that avocado Tamac casserole, bitch! It’s MIIIINE.” Honestly, that didn’t happen. I don’t think anyone else walking by even knew what this wonderful piece of pottery was, so I got it for a song. Some might consider Tamac’s odd, organic shape a little ugly and its colors a little gauche. Not me. It’s genius and it’s mine.


Q is for quixotic, as in “Quixotic kids covet all cool china.” Whatever. We have a two-plate rule: if you find a cool china pattern, there has to be at least two plates in order to buy it. Because of that, we have a huge ‘set’ of matching plates for dinner and always have something different to eat off of. Thankfully, the ‘two-plate rule’ does not apply to salad, bread or dessert plates and I have no intention of amending it anytime soon.


R is for really, as in “Really? REALLY? You aren’t collecting decorative tin platters and canisters? I took all of my money out of the stock market and put it into tin platters and canisters. It’s much more stable.” It’s actually more in canisters, but this little dish matches one of those, so it makes a nice addition to the portfolio.


Z is for Zen, as in “Zen is not a design-style you idiot, it’s a philosophy. Everyone in-the-know says Asian-ish.” A killer faux-bamboo ceramic box is the quintessential definition of Asian-ish.

It's a Collection!


As my loyal, longtime Reader, you know how I feel about objects and collections: one is of interest, two is a pair and three is a collection. Well, I an happy to officially announce that I now have a collection of wooden fruit in bowls!

Of course, you're as pleased as I am, but I cannot helped noticing that quizical look on your face that seems to wonder whether or not I actually need another set of wooden fruit. Well, it happened most accidentally, I assure you. I was driving by the Goodwill and decided to pop in for a moment, knowing there wasn't going to be anything of interest on a Sunday afternoon. But, I was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I passed up treasure after treasure, so that when I came to the bowl of wooden fruit, all of my resistance was spent. I snatched it up without question, threw my money at the cashier and ran for the door.

Now, I also have some juistification:
1. This set is in a low, wooden dish. It will look perfect with the other two sets which are in compote style dishes.
2. It has a mango. And a persimmon. I don't have a set with a persimmon! Plus, some other exotic fruits I cannot identify. I love exotic wooden fruit I can't identify even more than just plain old wooden grapes, bananas and apples.
3. Photographic evidence of the things I did NOT buy, articles A, B and C:

I think congratulations are in order.

The House That Thrift Built 2

I've been promising you a tour of the front room for a while, and I guess the space is finally finished. Finished in that there are curtains up and all the little knickknacks are where they'll be--for a while anyways. Finished in that I finally found chairs and a chandelier (which you, reader, already know about). And finished in that I've started to think about changing it. Nothing major, I'm very happy with the colors, the furniture and the fact all the little bits have come together into a somewhat cohesive whole. I suddenly have a fantasy of ditching the dining table and arranging it salon style, a la Pauline de Rothschild's famous drawing room in Paris. (Do you know it? I couldn't find a photograph. If not, imagine pilasters faux painted to look like green marble, chairs scattered about loosely and lots of light.) But right now that remains a fantasy.

Looking at the photographs of the room, they seem to reveal a lot of imperfection. I wanted to evoke the act of coming in and examining certain aspects of it in greater detail as you move through the room. I'm afraid the result is more choppy and not as seamless as I imagined, but I hope you enjoy it. If you visit, you'll find the colors more muted than in the photographs and the space very soft and relaxing. Come see for yourself...

Thrifting ABCs

Okay, I'm WAY behind on everything and wanted to get a few updates done, so I've mashed together recent finds and sitings like a greatest hits list for your pleasure.

A is for art, as in "Don't just think about prints and paintings, string art can be just as satisfying." This Mandala is signed by the artist on the back with wishes for a happy and joyful life. It's in mint condition and currently acting as the body halo for one of my Virgin Mary statues. No joke.

B is for Boss, as in "This set of bookends is truly boss." Too boss for me, I didn't buy it.

C is for Chinese children, as in "Aren't fat little Chinese children a great decorating motif?" Mitchell brought these back from his trip to Omaha/Wichita and they are a wonderful white porcelain set with two boys and two girls.

D is for don't buy this pattern of Pyrex, it's really ugly, as in "Don't buy this pattern of Pyrex, it's really ugly." Or go ahead and buy all of it because no one else is, this has been sitting on the shelf of Next-to-New for months. Maybe if you stock up on it now, it will eventually reach 'ironic collectible' status and you can sell at a profit? Personally, I believe this "Federal" pattern is one of the worst, perhaps third only to the "wheat" and "Dutch farmers" patterns. I admit to owning some of the latter, but only in acceptable shapes and sizes. What makes them acceptable and desirable while most of it is awful? Reader, if you don't know, there are some things which simple cannot be taught.

F is for food warmer, as in "Today's modern, electric food warmers make entertaining simple and carefree for every hostess." This one is a super-sized model with a design by the one and only Georges Briard. The gold is slightly worn in places, but I purchased it for a song.

G is for gold, plaster Last Supper statue, as in "My, that gold, plaster Last Supper statue sure does look great on your mantle." But not on mine. Super-kitschy and certainly desirable to some, I had to pass on this little treasure.

H is for 'huh?', as in "Huh? What are those anyway?" I have no idea. When I picked them up, I thought they were S&P, but the small whole on top only goes about 1/4 of an inch down. They're very heavy and produced by Dansk. The bottom have a little wedge cut out of them which allows for them to sit straight or at an angle, as displayed above. If you have some idea or would like to proffer a guess, please feel free.

J is for jealous, as in "I'm sure you must be jealous of the major collection of Georges Briard accessories that I'm accumulating." This one, called Persian Garden, is a great addition to the den. The gold design in in perfect condition and it's just the right size for the end table.

N is for next, as in "The next hot decorating trend is going to be bowls of wooden fruit." This was my second purchase and there was a third set I passed up a while back which had all painted pieces of fruit--I am still kicking myself. My advice to you: never, ever pass up the opportunity to purchase a set of wooden fruit. Never. The two sets I currently have look great next to one another on the coffee table. Promise.

P is for photography books, as in "You can never have too many photography books in your collection." This crazy book contains wonderful photographs of the grand old houses of Louisiana. It's from the 1950s and the text is so flowery and sweet that it will leave a saccharine taste in your mouth. Skip the text and just enjoy the photographs.

S is for Schonwald, as in "Schonwald china from Germany is some of most boss dishes you can buy." I heart this pattern. I mean, really really heart it. It's simply amazing, but they have an astronomical price on it and, as you know, I don't really need another set of dishes. But I will freely admit that if it were cheap, I would buy it immediately. I have several pieces of Schonwald in my collection already and I jettisoned several other things with the move to Texas, including the most delectable biscuit barrel you have ever seen. Keep your eyes out for Schonwald because almost all of it is delicious.

T is for tray, as in "The pattern of this Georges Briard tray is too boss for words." And it looks great next to the Lucite-mounted coral that Jennie gave me a while back.

W is for waffle maker, as in "What kind of rich-ass lady owned such a fancy waffle maker?" The lid is painted porcelain and I'm sure matched some other kitchen accessories, but I had to pass it by. I already have a waffle maker and this one, though amazing, just wasn't my style.

Now you know your ABCs, oh won't you come and shop with me?

Why does the caged plant grow?

I didn't buy this at the thrift store, but at the next best place: Room Service in Austin. Room Service is funky store with a mix of vendors selling an eclectic array of fifties, sixties and seventies wares. The prices are usually almost as good as thrift shopping and they are always marking things way down.

The bird cage was a steal and looks great in the corner of the living room, stuffed with a slightly over-sized plant. I really wanted a giant fern, but the one I bought was TOO big. Someone suggested actually getting a bird, but I said if I want to spend money on cat food I'll just buy it in a can! I'd like to find a smaller, similarly architectural cage to hang in the opposite corner. The whole idea of birdcages filled with plants strikes me as very 1970s fern bar/restaurant and make me smile. You?

The House that Thrift Built

I've posted photos of the house in various states of decoration, but I thought I would take this wonderful new opportunity to do a short video tour of the den. Basically everything except the coffee table (which was my grandmother's) and orange cubes is from the thrift store. It's the result of years and years of diligent shopping. Remember, if you don't shop then you can't buy!

People, Listen to Me!

I know what I'm talking about. Signing out of Hotmail this evening, what do I see but "Summer's hot decorating trends" with a picture of some Asian-ish looking crap. Now, you go ahead and click on that and it is going to suggest you add some "Tea House Chic" to your interior decor, but I am asking, "Who told you first?" And I didn't call it "tea house chic" (Although I did reference that idea when describing the house of my grandma's friend, when I said what her look wasn't.), but plain old Asian-ish. Now, are you really going to pay over $200 for a crappy Asian-ish vase at Horchow? I don't think so. Get your butt down the thrift store and pick up some of that Asian-ish stuff they are getting rid of. Please.