Am I Cheap? Do I Care?

June 16, 2005

Coffe table books see the light of day...

For a while now, I've been wanting a bench/coffee table for the living room. Something simple, preferably modern (a la the George Nelson one I can't afford) that looks good with the rest of my furniture. My plan was to replace the end table next to one of the chairs and use the new table as a place to stack current magazines and some of the great coffee table books that I own. I just don't like these things on my cocktail table (which was my grandmothers and something I always dreamed of having and will never get rid of), which is round and therefore awkward for stacking. Plus, I have a nice little still life of objet d'art that would be diluted by stacks of superfluous things. And, I want to be able to use it as a bench if there were to be an excess of guests at a party or gathering.

So I've been shopping around and keeping my eye out, but not finding anything that really fit the bill. Everything is really just too ornate or too wobbly or in bad shape. Then one day at lunch, I popped into the Salvation Army and found what I thought would work. It was low and sturdy, and the color was close to the other furniture in the room. Not in perfect shape, it even had a place where a kid had colored in the front with blue and green chalk. Kind of quirky. I thought 5 or 10 bucks and it would probably work. But, there was no price tag, so I asked one of the friendly Salvation Army sales people. They said it was TWENTY-FOUR DOLLARS!! Huh? Thinking, "somebody is smoking crack in the back room," I politely decline. Twenty-four dollars? Nothing in my living room cost over $15, so I'm certainly not bringing in a twenty-four dollar table to make all the rest of my furniture feel cheap and low-class. Hell-o?

Couple weeks later, I'm back at the Salvation Army and the table is still sitting there, unpurchased and unloved. Truly, it was a table that few could love, but I knew I could make it work. I looked it over, again, and still NO price tag. So the manager with the big afro, the one who I've mentioned before who isn't nice to some of the other employees, came walking past and I asked him how much the table was. Few minutes later, he returns and says it's $14.99. Hmmm. I said to him "You know, it looks more like a $10 table to me." He responded that since it had been here for a week, they could take 10% off. $1.50? What a bargain? What a discount? I declined again...

But returned the next week when the price went down by 20%, ending up paying $12 for the stinking table. It works though, exactly how I wanted to. But I felt cheap, really cheap. I mean, I would have paid $24 for a really excellent table in perfect shape, and while I like this one, it wasn't that. Oh well, all's well that ends well.

A Single Sherbet

June 5, 2005

My mam-ma passed away in April after a rash of problems that had left her in the hospital for weeks. It felt so very quick, she was here with us and then suddenly gone. I miss her so very much, it's impossible to convey, but I know you understand. She was an incredibly special person who had done so much with her life and influenced many, many people. Her numerous jobs and identities included:

1. Assembly-line worker during WWII for J. Paul Getty, building planes for the war
2. After returning to school in the sixties, a first-grade teacher who taught numerous people (myself included) to read and enjoy books
3. Mother, mam-ma, great mam-ma and Aunt Mildred to adoring relatives and friends
4. Caretaker of many friends
5. Sunday School teacher
6. Cook
7. Bell collector

It was only a few years ago that I realized that in our large family of various colorations, she was the one I resembled. Looking at old pictures of her she had pulled from drawers, I recognized the bone structure, lips and smile that are my own. But while family resemblance is skin deep, our passions are also very much the same.

She loved food, entertaining, cooking and cookbooks--of which she had an impressive collection. Some of those are now mine to cook with and use. Her recipes boxes, three small ones and one larger one, are packed with neatly-written recipes in her familiar script. I haven't had the opportunity to look through them all, but I'm sure I'll find some to share on bigYELLOWbowl.

And stuff. So much stuff. She loved thrift stores, antique malls and above all, garage sales. She threw more garage sales in a summer than most people do in a lifetime, collecting things from friends who were downsizing and selling them for their benefit. She had an array of dishes, some she'd had forever and others collected more recently. We would always go shopping at little out-of-the-way places and find some treasure to share. The clock in my kitchen was something we found together, as are several of my radios and some of my green, Depression glass. Nature or nurture, readers know that I suffer from these same afflictions. There is no more room for dishes in my house and my cookbooks are crammed into three shelves and include four binders of recipes that I have copied or clipped from various sources.

All of this is to say, I am a lot like her and I treasure the silly little things that were hers, old or new, that remind me of our relationship and the influence she is in my life. The week after the funeral, I popped into the DAV mainly out of habit. There was nothing there, and I know I say that often, but I really mean NOTHING. However, scanning the shelves of glassware, this one little pressed-glass sherbet caught my eye. Special? Probably not, but it is like the sherbets my Mam-ma had, that belonged to her mother and were a bonus in a bag of oats. She had given my dad six of them, and we found five more in her things. This makes twelve, which means my brother Eric and I can both have half-a-dozen.

Somehow the single sherbet was reassuring, like many of the things I had brought back from her vast collection; some cookbooks, a few bells, flower frogs, glasses and bowls. They aren't her, but they do hold a very tiny something of the wonderful, amazing person that she was. They help me to remember...

Me in my Great-grandma Stevenson's lap, with Mam-ma on the left and my Dad on the right.

Manic Thrift Store GIFTER

May 2, 2005

Now don't get too excited, I'm not giving away dishes, tchotchkes or anything serious yet. I have been the recipient of thrift store gifting....and it has been wonderful. But first I wanted to explain why my posts for the last month or so have been a lacking in frequency and scope. Apologies to all of my dedicated readers, but I've been working on the side as a CIA operative due to my art history/language skills/martial arts background. I'm not a liberty to discuss my recent assignments, but lets just say that some of the world's most important masterpieces would be in the hands of an uber-criminal art dealer if it weren't for a certain someone.

Regardless, my travels have taken me to various cities where I have had the opportunity to visit with old friends while taking a break from my government duties. While in Dallas, TX I hooked up with my old friend Susan. Old as in long time friend, not old as in ancient--Susan is a youthful, fresh thirty-two and works at the Dallas Museum of Art as a registrar. Her apartment is super cute and she has some wonderful pieces, including a George Nelson desk/credenza combo that I would have stolen if it weren't so huge. After dinner and some light shopping (Crate and Barrel, where I got this little handy piece), we headed back to her place for a glass of wine and the conversation turned to DISHES. Susan started talking about the gobs of Russel Wright that she and her stepmother have been picking up for years. In the cabinet, she had some blue and white pieces, but said she had tons more in her storage closet, plus other things she wanted to get rid of and I could have first dibs. Fun? Um, yeah. We unloaded those boxes and had dishes stacked everywhere. (Sign, heaven....) I got a lovely little snack set, service for four, that I didn't need but couldn't resist plus two sherbets by Paul McCobb which Susan described as ugly. I love them (both the design and color) and have a platter and serving bowl in the same pattern in white.

Last but not least, an array of RW pieces including a small platter that matches a serving bowl I have and four pieces of chartreuse that will mix in swimmingly with some of my other dishes, including a giant platter that we used Saturday night for the party. Susan is the best...

I also made a brief stop in Norman, OK on my way to Tulsa and had dinner with Danette, she of the magnificent decoupaging, and Stephanie at Pepe Delgado's, which is undoubtedly the best Mexican food in Oklahoma, if not the entire world. Stephanie is an inspired decorator (she calls her style Gypsy Bordello), amazing painter and fantastic friend who is actually the muse for the original print edition of Manic Thrift Store Shopper. We have spent so much time shopping together, it is difficult to quantify, including a week-long trip through the southwest where we loaded up the back of my dad's truck with goods, both new and thrifted, from New Mexico and Arizona. When I moved away, I knew I would miss shopping with her and all of the great things we would find together, so I started MTSS as a way to connect adventures. Stephanie brought me a giant box of wonderful things including a Betty Crocker Cookbook and piles of art history images that I'm going to use for my artwork.

But the most gorgeous thing was this vintage cake breaker in it's original box...absolutely stunning, I can't wait to use it.

While my work for the government takes me around the globe, I think it's wonderful to have friends who have style enough to share....and always do.

The Pull (MTSS Home, Vol. 1)

April 3, 2005

When I drive past a thrift store, I often imagine that I feel a little pull to go inside. I think that something, some object, is calling out to me to be found and rescued from the shelves piled high with junk. I believe that if I look long enough and hard enough, that amazing object will be revealed and I will be rewarded for following my instinct, for turning from the street into the parking lot and getting out of my car.

The other day, I had that feeling as I was on the way to the grocery store. I pulled into the DAV, thinking "there is something in her, drawing me in, like a spider to a fly." But there wasn't. Nothing. Nadda. I didn't find anything.

As usual, there were things I could have bought, if only they weren't priced so ridiculously high. There were other things I might have bought if they weren't chipped, broken or just too scratched even for me. Instead, I wandered the aisles empty handed and left the same. Which is probably a good thing, since there isn't much room left in my house for even the smallest set of perfect china.

I like sharing my finds and stories, but I've also decided to institute a new section that I'm calling MTSS Home which will include photos of my house, table settings or drawers so that you can see how I live with all of the crazy things I bring home.

For the inaugural MTSS Home, I bring you a rare and intriguing pattern from Mikasa called Pom Pom. I bought this set of dishes many years ago at the Goodwill for $15.99. It came with six full place settings, two others with a piece missing, a serving platter and vegetable bowl. Thinking it was quite a bargain, I (foolishly) believed that I would be able to find more of it.

Never. Nowhere. Not on Ebay. Not on any of the China replacement service. One cup and saucer, in five years of looking, is all I have encountered. And they wanted $18.99 for it--three dollars more than I paid for the entire set. While a lovely pattern, it must not have been very popular. If you find any, buy it and I'll pay you back. Of course, I'll probably have decided to get rid of mine minutes before you call to tell me that you have found eight more place settings. Such is life. For this table, I also used cordial glasses as miniature vases and filled them with grape hyacinths and other naturalized flowers from the yard. The flatware was a gift from my Aunt Cindy to my mother in sixties, and is made from a beautiful wood and shiny bronze from Thailand. While the settings are identical, they each feature a unique water glass that has gold decorations--one of many of my mismatched collection.

It is...

March 19, 2005

...a "device" used to cut cakes or pies into a requisite number of slices. Need seven pieces of carrot cake? With this magic plate, you can do it. Need ten pieces of pecan pie? Nothings impossible with this unbelievable invention!

Kim and John both guessed the correct answers via e-mail and will be receiving a PRIZE. I don't know what yet, I'll figure it out.

Sorry the comments weren't working correctly. Blame Blogger.

What is it?

March 10, 2005

My friend Angelica over at the famed Swapatorium blogspot sometimes posts strange objects and asks people to identify their use. I found the piece below at the DAV the other day and it had me stumped. Compass? Discus? What do think? I'll give a prize for the correct answer AND the most creative answer.

I'll take guesses until someone gets it right and I'll take creative answers until Wednesday, March 16.

Bon chance!

(The prize you ask? Something fantastic of course.)

March 10, 2005

Mystery object #1

Flea Marketing?

March 10, 2005

How does one market a flea? It seems like an odd proposal, but a few Sundays back I hopped into the car with Jessie, Dave and Katie and we went to investigate the venerable and exciting Wichita Flea Market, held one a month in cool weather only.

Now the first thing to establish is where exactly does flea marketing fall in the scale of bargain shopping. It is not to be confused with thrifting, which is all about the hunt for the elusive object amidst the junk, for those who set up booths at a flea market have already separated the wheat from the chaff and present first-rate goods. But at the same time, flea marketing is not antiquing, where one finds rarefied goods in neat, orderly arrangements. I would proffer that that flea marketing is the bridge between thrifting shopping and antiquing. And a wonderful bridge it is.

Instantly sucked into the chaos that is the Wichita Flea Market, I quickly realized that someone would have to take leadership of the group or that we would miss something wonderful. While there was some initial questioning of my ability to lead, once the group realized this was not my first rodeo and I knew where I was going and what I was doing, then everything was fine. Okay, we did lose Katie for a brief period, but she voluntarily separated herself from the group with extreme purpose. More about that later.

One of the first things that I found was a wonderful, amber-colored footed bowl that I knew would look great on my coffee table. (Jealous Michael?) A mere $3, it was cheap at even thrift store prices. I'd been looking for something similar ever since Michael was in town and found that great glass kabob. This purchase had me on my way to a new arrangements of objects for the living room.

Katie was looking for decorative objects for her new apartment and found a great embroidered wall hanging that she thought was just too expensive. She kept moaning over it until finally she decided she had to have it and ran screaming back to the booth, hoping that it hadn't been picked up by some other savvy shopper. This was the period when we were missing her, but we kept shopping away, knowing that we would eventual be reunited. And she was, tapestry in hand, happy and delighted.

I didn't really find anything else except these very strange plastic Kachina dolls (still in original packaging) and tee pees with Native American children in them. For some reason I had to have them and knew that the Kachina would be much happier living with the pagan gods in my house than he was living at the flea market. I got one of each. The other thing that caught my attention were of course the tiny "Pyrex" tea sets. Can you imagine how cute these would be in my house? Can you imagine me paying $600 for them? And this was the cheaper of the two sets!? I think these people were confused about where they were selling their wares...

Dave and Jessie found a great camera to add to her ever-growing collection. They nosed around at a couple of other things, but didn't really buy anything else. Jessie did point out the Black woman who was speaking to the "gentleman" presiding over the Sons of the Confederacy booth. We had to have a picture, so I pretended to be shooting her, but was really trying to get them. It took some maneuvering, but the shot is decent (that's Jessie on the right) and just so...strange.

Regrets? I have a few. The other night we were all regretting the Asian dishes (pink, squarish with big bamboo painted on them) that one couple tried to get us to buy. It was a huge set compete with little footed pieces that looked like sherbets, which the woman said were rice dishes. Marked $100, they offered it to us for $60 because it was the end of the day. I was good and turned them down, but regret it. What's one more set of dishes?

If you can stand the sales pressure, go late when everyone is trying to sell as much as they can so they don't have to load it back into their vehicle. Marketing the flea was a fantastic experience all around...