Casual Friday

Wore cut-offs with this cut-out blouse to work today. Cut-offs FTW!

Ethnic-Print Dress

Thankfully the maker of this a-lined ethnic-print dress decided to keep the cut simple when creating something with this fabulous, fabulous, fabric. Although I am certainly wrong on one, this print feels both Native American and African to me.

I dressed with the Native American side in mind, pairing it with a fringed leather handbag, wooden-heeled peep-toe wedges, and turquoise-colored hovering bead earrings.

100% thrifted, 100% vintage.

Go-To Summer Dress: Chambray Comfort

It has been a really hot summer, already, and this dress keeps getting pulled out of the closet to help me through the worst days.

Why do I love it? Besides being as comfortable as a housedress, well, because it is a housedress, I was sold by the super-soft chambray, giant pockets, and pleated seams. And, with a belt thrown on, I feel comfortable wearing this housedress out of those house.

Recall my recent complaining about rarely finding vintage shows in my size?

Once again, persistence and patience in thrifting was rewarded- today I scored two pairs of sandals that are big enough for my hooves.

I have a feeling you will be seeing a lot of these in a special project I have planned for my blog starting on the quickly approaching first day of summer. That's right, a plan. Get excited.

Ruby Slipper Nails

I end up sticking with one polish for my fingers and toes for pretty much the entire summer, every summer. This is another of my thrifty lady moves; I find one perfect color, and use almost every drop of the bottle during the season.

Last summer it was Cover Girl's Coral Rose. This summer it is Revlon's Frankly Scarlet.

Due to the often wishy-washy coverage of shimmers, I typically prefer cremes, but Frankly Scarlet goes on as a true, deep red with just the right amount of gold fleck.

It is like ruby slippers for the nails. Love.

Crossed the Line

Sorry fellow thrift shoppers of my fair city, I have crossed the line.

I have resisted purchasing items in the past with the express intent to resell, but lately my position on this has changed. For years, I felt it was only fair to give another lady the chance to prance around town in the fabulous vintage shoes or a dresses that I could only wish were in my size.

When the guy from a local vintage shop came to our yard sale a few years ago, I resisted him buying the clothes I had for sale. My husband talked some sense in me- 'um, we are having a yard sale to get rid of stuff, and wouldn't making $200 before 8:00 a.m. be nice?' Yes, it was, but I envisioned ladies who would do the wearing and enjoying themselves to score at my sale.

The less romantic reality is, there are plenty of folks in town scooping up vintage and turning it for profit online or in shops. Since I have lived in Indianapolis I have seen the previously mentioned reseller, arms loaded, dashing around a thrift store, oh, I don't know, probably a couple hundred times. Seriously.

This all really hit home after seeing a dress I had recently donated back to the Salvation Army for sale at the Savvy Bazaar, a yard sale type shindig set up in a parking lot a Broad Ripple salon. The day I stopped by there were vendors selling vintage or their own handmade wares with tasty grill smell and blaring reggae filling the air. I must say, this is a pretty sweet idea. But back to the dress- this was one I had not worn in years and donated back to both free up some space in my closet, and to give it the opportunity to be worn and enjoyed again. Here it was, for sale for $16.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I have done some selling before. This was cleaning my closet of clothes no longer fit, that I brought home really hoping to fit, but did not, or that never made it to the alterations shop. These were shoes I swore I could squeeze into, but were too painfully tight to actually wear, or handbags I decided to part with as my collection grew. And a couple items that were just too beautiful and delicate not to possess that I later felt silly for coveting so.

Of course neither of these pairs of darling kicks fit my giant hooves, yet this time they came home with me. Vintage is what I love, what I am passionate about, and what I am good at. I have accepted that others profit from it, and now, I am ready to give it a shot too.

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...

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!

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.

Words I Live By

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