Trash Treasure

This one I learned from my father- there is nothing wrong with doing a little trash digging. I pity the person who avoids picking up perfectly usable or interesting items just because a stranger has deemed them trash.

Countless things in our home have been acquired this way, including this antique birdcage I pulled from someone's trash near my office this afternoon.

One more thing old and charming has avoided the landfill for an opportunity to be treasured again.

Getting Dressed Mess

Dress Form Dress Up

This really is not as weird as it sounds. Here is my ticket to getting rid of the several boxes of clothes cluttering up our spare bedroom and basement. Everything '50s and older was sold last year to help fund vacations, but I still have a ton of great vintage to part ways with.

Of course, I will let you know when the sale is officially going, but for now, I have some lighting to figure out.

Big Foot Needs Swedish Hasbeens

Despite consistently thrifting for the past 15 years, I have very few pairs of vintage shoes. By very few, I mean maybe 12 or so. Compared to the number I would like to have, this is just a few.

The problem is, I have big feet.

Unlike me, it seems the majority of women of years past had tiny feet. I frequently find fabulous vintage shoes in sizes 5.5 or 6 that look to be made for children to this big-footed contemporary woman. Less frequently, I see an 8, 9, or a 9.5 narrow that really screw with my emotions, but very rarely the size 10 that my hooves require.

Because of this, I find myself shopping 'new' for shoes more than any other clothing item. Right now, the Swedish Hasbeens have my eye.

These beauties are based off of real vintage shoes, as the Hasbeen website puts it:

"Her name was Anita and she was the hottest mum in all of southern Sweden in the 1970’s. While smoking Camel she screamed at her kids until her curlers fell out and just looked fabulous in her white high-heeled clogs.

One summer day in 2006 we found the shoes she wore (300 pairs of red, white and black beautiful clogs from the 70’s) in the basement of an old clog factory in the neighboring village and brought them to Stockholm. So for all these people that shared our love for Anita’s wooden shoes and for ourselves we started Swedish Hasbeens."

What could be better than these simple, yet adorable, wooden-heeled remakes? Well, besides finding those 300 pairs of vintage clogs...

If you want to make this lady's new shoes dream come true, my favorites are the 'Super High Peep Toe' in Cognac. I will be needing those in a size 10.

Moon Bag

Meet my new prized bag- a vintage Patricia Smith Moon Bag.

Patricia Smith, of Milwaukee Wisconsin, made handbags from the late '70s to late '90s. Smith combined lacquered panels, which she designed herself, with either leather or needlework to create these amazingly unique bags. Intended to be interchangeable, the panels are held on by velcro. More examples can be found here.

Although not in mint condition, this Moon Bag will surely end up a staple of my wardrobe. The so soft it is buttery leather and sparkly rose printed rigid panel create a perfectly unexpected juxtaposition of texture.

Steal, I Mean, Deal

An important lesson learned from my mother- when you see a yard sale sign, go for it!

Browsing others no longer desired belongings spread out on their lawn or on card tables in the garage was my mother's choice way to kill a Saturday morning during the summers months. Unlike her, I rarely go out with the plan to spend a day going to yard sales, but once I hazardously make that last-minute turn towards the first one, it is pretty much guaranteed my next several hours will be spent following neon poster-board signs from one sale to another.

Although the encounter with the item's former owner is brief, I find an odd satisfaction in knowing exactly where my purchase came from. Plus, you never know what you may find.

Today I could have purchased live chickens at $6 each. "Now there is a lady who would love a couple chickens!" the elderly gentleman trying to make the sale shouted out at me as I browsed his merchandise. Knowing our neighbors would not be thrilled to have city chickens next door, I restrained myself, but he sure had me pegged.

What I did buy- a few records for my husband and a dress form, which I have been wanting for awhile now. Today, I paid a whopping $5 for one, and the woman threw a vintage purse that she caught me eyeing into the steal, I mean, deal.

Lose and Ye Shall Recieve

Today's score was not one, but two, great pairs of vintage sunglasses to replace the pair I lost in NYC.

If only I could score some sunny days...

Header

With my designer husband willing to help me out, I decided to take on the task of making a header for From Who Knows Wear. While browsing around online for images, and considering what photo I could shoot on my own, I kept coming back to the deco-ish floral pattern of this paper fan.

Picked up at an antique store, and currently residing on the side of the fridge, I have had this fan for about 15 years. It has traveled with me from apartment to apartment (a few times), to house, and finally to our home. Although the bit of masking tape holding its little tail on eventually failed, it seems strange to think that I have managed to keep this fancy little piece of paper over the years without ever tucking it away in an album.

Marveling at the time I have kept this delicate object in nearly one piece prompted me to do a little searching to see if I could figure out just how old it is. It was made by the Buzza Company out of Minneapolis, which was in business from 1907 to 1942. That makes this a pretty damn old piece of paper.

The back reads "Order of Dancers" with numbers 1-16 listed down the sides. At formal balls ladies once used dance cards such as this to keep track of their dance partners throughout the evening. I am sure the crest on the front could be a clue as to who was hosting the event.

Unfortunately, the back is blank, with not the name of one dancer listed. I am hoping my fan is just an unused party favor and not a long-living record of a danceless night.

Pyrex: Porn and Passion

I have a slight obsession with vintage Pyrex. To me, Pyrex's functionality and bright, retro patterns are a perfect combination for kitchenware.

Pyrex, which has been around since 1915, is still being made. What I have seen of the new stuff is plain and boring, but the old stuff is fantastic, and I am an not the only person to think so. Check out the site Pyrex Love for oodles of Pyrex porn.

Scoring good, vintage Pyrex at thrift stores can be troublesome. Often there is discoloration, fading or scratching, and even more often, the lid is M.I.A.

And then, is it really Pyrex? Imitators are easily weeded out. The real deal is almost always marked, so flip the dish over and check for the Pyrex stamp on the bottom. I am not saying other vintage bake dishes cannot be just as attractive or useful as Pyrex, but it is what I like, and this is my place to ramble on about such things.

One of my favorite pieces is an avocado green Zodiac sign casserole dish with candle warmer. This funky beauty dates back to '61, and was found at a now defunct church thrift store by my house, R.I.P.

My most beloved piece of Pyrex is a smaller, bright cherry-red casserole dish with a sort of a floral and heart design on the lid. This is what happened when one of my great friends discovered my passion for Pyrex. I am pretty thrilled that this adorable little dish inspired someone to think of me, and even more thrilled it is now mine, thank you Jasmine!

Creepy Places and Bad Hand-Painted Signs

As I was driving semi-aimlessly around town this afternoon in an attempt to further delay my trip to the YMCA I noticed fair rides poking out from behind the buildings of Fountain Square. The rides sparked my curiosity because none of them were in motion.

The whole carnival was revealed to me as I pulled around the corner. A fan of oddly deserted places, I decided to park the car and wonder around.

Except for a few bored carnies milling about, the place was completely empty. I managed to snap a few shots before I felt like someone was going to approach me and ask me just what I thought I was doing. I was not sure how they would like my answer, "I like creepy places and bad hand-painted signs."

Weekend Thrifing Date

Although thrift stores are typically a solo trip for me these days, I am excited to have a thrifting date with my dear friend Megan this coming weekend. I will be honest, this is one of the few things I have a difficult time sharing. I am a greedy little shopper, I want everything worth a damn in the store to be mine, all mine.

I will do my best to ignore this ugly instinct for the day, and enjoy some much needed time with one of my favorite ladies.

The last time I had consistent thrifting partners was in high school. Back in those days, several of my girl friends and I would pile into one of our junk cars, and head out as a pack.

For a couple reasons this worked.

We were of varying sizes, a few being of more vintage-friendly modelesque proportions, and then the other two of us having a little more junk in the trunk, as they say.

One of these teenage shopping trips sticks out in my memory as a happy time, in a happy place. I believe there was five of us that rummaged through the downtown Salvation Army in our hometown. Along with several other items, we all walked out with a vintage sundress of our own. One of my girlfriends found a pair of vintage brown Levi corduroys that I ended up taking home since they fit me the best. These were a staple of my wardrobe for several years before they were completely worn out.

We were also young and optimistic that the vintage gravy train would never end.

After years of slowly declining hauls from thrift stores, I am concerned that there might be a day when cheap vintage finds dry up. This is where that slightly possessive nature of my thrift shopping comes from. After all, the clothes I love are getting hipper, but certainly not any younger. I have had to retire many a piece of vintage from my own closet that I have worn to its death over the years. The more this happens, the more I begin to fearfully wonder, will I be able to replace this?

On my shopping trip with Megan this weekend I am confident that the good company will keep me distracted enough to keep the hunt from getting too serious, and that we will both walk away with at least one prized find. And suddenly I am left wishing I still had that sundress I scored many years ago, but more on that later.

Look Who's on NYTimes.com

A couple days ago, there was a great article on The New York Times' website about the city's many thrift stores. Along with it, was a link for readers to upload photos of their own favorite vintage piece. As someone who frequently enjoys the multimedia elements of their website, I thought, what the hell.

See if you can find me, in my wedding dress, here.

I chose my wedding dress, because it is certainly my most photographed piece of clothing (thank you Kris Arnold), but also because it really is special. Here is what I had to say about it:

As a compulsive thrift store shopper, I have a closet full of vintage that I love dearly and wear daily, but my wedding dress is the special piece I love the most. Something new, and from a bridal store, is just not my style. Instead, I purchased this blue vintage prom dress off Ebay about a month before my wedding. It cost $120.

In the few months between our engagement and wedding, I scoured all my favorite thrift stores, Ebay, and Etsy for a vintage cocktail or prom dress from the '50s or early '60s that was my size and less than a few hundred dollars.

When I was almost to the point of giving up, and wearing something out of my closet, I stumbled upon this dress.

I loved that it was not white, and was completely sold by the ruching on the bodice and giant skirt with ruffles of tulle. Best of all, it was vintage and unique, and I could imagine a woman from another time putting it on for a special night all of her own.

After the wedding, I planned on reselling the gown since it's one that I never plan on wearing again, and part of me wanted someone else to be able to have a magical night in it.

Almost two years later, I am very thankful that my husband encouraged me to keep it. Stowed away in our closet, in a little white box, it's a piece of my history, our history, and I am pretty convinced that is enough magic for one dress.

Vinyl Inspirations

My morning started off with Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood's Some Velvet Morning stuck in my head, with several more of Nancy's hits to follow throughout my workday.

Sifting through my records for Boots when I got home, I was reminded of how much I love Nancy's cuffed boots and Breton-ish striped shirt and tights pictured on the cover.

I pulled a few other records for your vintage inspiration pleasure.

My personal favorite of the bunch is Ann and Nancy Wilson's late '70s-meets renaissance fair-meets psychedelic gypsies style on the cover of Heart's Little Queen. Nancy's hot boots, floral skirt, over-sized waist sinching belt, and flowing lace blouse all topped with a red cape is exactly my cup of tea.

Lovely Louise

LOOKBOOK.nu: "Hyères." by Louise Ebel: "Vintage Dress, Topshop Shoes, Topshop Bag"

Oh Louise, how I adore your ability to complement vintage with contemporary pieces. I find this a great feat, as do throngs of LookBookers.

If you have not admired Louise, and her blog Pandora, you should. With Paris as the backdrop, excellent photography captures this beautiful woman, in her almost as beautiful clothes.

I showed my husband Louise's blog when talking with him the other night about perhaps trying to shoot some photos of me in my best vintage, and putting them out there for who knows who to see. He response was, "well of course you'd have photos of yourself on your blog if they looked like that."

I will not look as lovely as Louise, but when I get over being camera shy, I might show more of myself to the world. My closet just might be have to be shared.

Please Buy This House

And then go on vacation, like say, permanently, and I will house sit. For free. Perhaps you could give me a generous allowance to refurnish the place in more period-appropriate furniture.

Seriously, this is one of the most amazing houses that I have ever had the pleasure of being in. Right here in Indianapolis, it is a vintage lover's dream with textured tiles, wall to ceiling windows in the master bedroom, a mirrored dressing room, and a giant rooftop deck with a spiral staircase leading down to an adorable patio.

Sadly, the Realtor's website http://www.paulbateshomes.com/6183WashingtonBoulevard/ does not give much history on the home, but if I remember correctly, an actress had it built.

Words I Live By

"That's odd. I'll take it."

Slips in Detail

With what I assume to be many less women wearing slips regularly these days, the few times I have come across them while browsing the lingerie section of a new stuff store, none have come close to charming. Don't get me wrong, I am sure there are absolutely lovely new slips available- that I cannot afford.

I, on the other hand, will be sticking to charming vintage slips, under my charming vintage dresses. So many of the vintage slips I find feel special. There is always a detail to adore; a bow here, a slit trimmed in lace there, a ruffle around the hem.

Lost in New York

Not only are my thoughts still in New York City, but so are my favorite pair of thrift-scored vintage sunglasses.

Last seen on a gloriously sunny and windy day at the Brooklyn Bridge Park, where I hope they were picked up, and are being sported around town by their lucky new owner.

I'd rather not think of them being smashed to pieces on a sidewalk somewhere.

So long sweet, sweet shades.

Haven't Given Up

I haven't given up on blogging already, it's just difficult to get ahold of our shared computer during Garrett's last weeks of the semester.

New York was fabulous. Rainy, but fabulous. Enjoyed browsing at some vintage shops, but did not fall in love with anything enough to pay prices that were shockingly high to this midwesterner. Loved the abundance of sexy-messy hair and oxfords, and laughing to myself that the line at the Whitney was so much more stylish than the line outside of Abercrombie.

And just clarify, I was not in the line at Abercombie, just happened to pass by on my way to a rainy walk in Central Park.