Corner cabinets are often charming, quirky pieces that are engaging because they're always a little bit unexpected. We don't quite expect a cabinet to fit in a corner, so once we realize what it is, the piece always feels playful. I think this makes them seductive objects-- You buy it because it makes you happy, and of course, doesn't everyone have a spare corner somewhere?
We have a lovely one to show you that came out of a fine local estate. It's painted a cheerful yellow, with yellow doors that are a slightly different shade-- I think they are the original paint, and the other paint is a bit newer (60 years or so "new"). The interior is turquoise, which is why it almost stayed with me permanently. (I have a fetish for old turquoise-painted furniture). It's a solid, heavy piece -- I helped carry it up the l-o-n-g flight of stairs, but the suffering was worthwhile. It is so good! I think it's from Pennsylvania. (I think this because I was told it was.) [sold!]
The textiles hanging on it are *real* Guatemalan textiles-- not the chintzy touristy things. Or, maybe they were the touristy things, but that was in the 1940s, when they still sold the good stuff to tourists. Textiles like the one draped on the lower door, and like those rolled in the basket, are why you've heard of Guatemalan textiles, but then been disappointed. We're asking under $20 a pop for each, and I think we have to, because not many people will get it. (But you, dear reader, will).
Our next scene should evoke what I hope your dresser already conveys-- an air of feminine luxury. If your dresser doesn't make you feel like a 1920s, or 1930s, or 1940s, or whatever- you've-chosen-your-decade-to-be-glamazon, then it's not doing it's job. Get some good lighting, some pretty trinkets, and a fine chest and set yourself up. This chest of drawers is substantial, marble-topped, and has lovely carved pulls.
But my favorite thing here is the lamp. I can't say enough about what a very special piece this is. It's a hand-turned walnut lamp, which is well and good, but the original shade is spectacular-- it's pleated printed paper from the 1920s. These things almost never turn up. And the photo doesn't do it justice. Whenever I go up to see it I stand close to the lampshade and coo at it.
She hasn't talked back. Yet. But when it does, she will say,
"Elise, why are you trying to sell me, you greedy little monster! Take me home, set my on your vanity, and let me illuminate you, very softly, every morning. I will provide just enough light for you to apply mascara. I will not make your one gray hair apparent. I will not make you wonder, is that my first wrinkle? I promise."
August 22, 2008
A Corner Hideway and an Altar of Beauty
August 16, 2008
Crusted with dirt, languishing in the corner of an old garage, Kate rescued this fantastic Monte Christo Toilet Preparation display, nursed it back to health, and brought it in. We're pleased as punch to show it to you, and even happier to fill it full of the most delicate and exquisite niceties, including an old paper maché marionette head, a handmade Victorian sheep, a tiny Victorian paper chair, imprinted in faux wicker, a vintage fish hook box, and finally (and do forgive me for not having a photo of this yet) a wonderful box of old hairpins called "Scoldy Lox."
The display case seems inspired by the Crystal Palace. It's four tiers, and each part of the case has its own door, fastened with a tiny brass latch at the case's back.
The middle tier currently houses old passamenterie silk flowers. The bottom holds a bisque doll's head, a good-tacky tea cup, and some tiny paper roses.
I haven't been able to find out anything about Monte Christo Toilet Preparations. "Christo" seems misspelled on purpose to lead you off the trail of Dumas's count, but still evokes that hero's glamor.
It's a glamor that this beheaded marionette could use. He's no Edmond Dantés, though his paper collar shows he's a man who cares about personal appearance. And his probiscous suggests that a toilet preparation attracting ladies could help him.
August 7, 2008
in the details
filigree treasure box
I keep photographing these 1920s doll torsos. They are too wonderful. The little lost legs belong with them
July 31, 2008
More Art
We've found some more shockingly good art for you. First, an inspired painting that must be a copy of part of a larger Renaissance work. Its nicely done, on board. I like that it's not trying to fake you-- it's just a copy someone had fun making.
Nest up, a paint-by-numbers barn which feels entirely too painterly to be paint by numbers. So, for $15, you'll walk away with a charming watercolor. It almost fooled Kate, and she used to run an art gallery! (For more info on paint-by-numbers popularity and history, try reading part of Karal Ann Marling's chapter posted here.) [UPDATE: sold!]
A really very good chromo-litho, on linen, in its original matting. You aren't familiar with chromolithography, the first truly new form of printing introduced after movable type? Explore it here, at U of Delaware's online exhibit.
Too, too busy searching out (and cramming in) treasures in Memphis to post in detail-- so the next few posts will catalog some of the recent finds-- The store is packed with amazing stuff- I'd say we have our best mix yet up there right now!
Today's post will focus only on things that are very, very cute. And also a mange remedy.
1920s doll torsos and a lovely pair of legs....
Lady lamp, baby print, and wonderful , old plaster bookends of children.
Lovebirds planter with golden feathers
Little lamb planter
A large wallpaper box, a pair of rusted skates.
Imperial Mange Remedy for Dogs, Horses, and cattle. Only 50 cents a bottle.July 23, 2008
Vintage Ventriloquism
The set is 4 pages long, with hundreds of photos, and it's well worth a few minutes.
[UPDATE- the set seems to go up and down, but here's another link to another set]
The set made me think about how the timetable for the rise in the popularity and technology of photography and of ventriloquism parallel each other. Both share the process of half-representation and both seem magical, perhaps even occult, in interesting ways. Early photos (and films) on dummies are good and rich. (An essay topic brewing here. My freshmen students should watch out...)
Rest assured that Kate and Elise are searching for vintage dummies throughout the region. If one turns up, we'll let you know so you can adopt it. In the meantime, we'll be hungrily imaging like with one via the magic of photography.
July 22, 2008
Refashioning wind up toys
A lovely little foray into the archives at Z Recommends hooked me into this idea of repurposing a windup-toy to make a drawing robot, courtesy of Finkbuilt (a fantastic blog) courtesy of, etc., all the way back to Zoom.
A little wind-up toy motor works as a power sources to shake a shimmy the pen-legs about the paper. What a wonderful project!
Not for sale at K& E, but well worth noting by those who like the find new life for old things, and for anyone looking for an unusual piece of art for their wall!
June 26, 2008
Sofas are nice, but paintings are better
Some people live without original art! Of course, when you make art, it's easy to have art for your home-- (so, yeah, it's cheaper for painters). But if you don't feel that confident, there's no reason to despair. There's so much good art that's cheap (and so much bad expensive crap). Online, galleries like 20X200 provide just plain cheap art. You could make an octopus wall hanging with your scissors and felt, like my sister and her college roommate, or (big sell) you can turn to some of our scores for awesome things to put on your walls.
I recently painted on a shoe box lid belonging to aforementioned sister to fill up wall space in her Berkeley apartment. It made things better.
You need original art. The more the better.
I was reluctant to hang any of my own paintings in our space, but one screamed out, "I need to be shown on a feverish-pink wall!" and so we brought it down (It wouldn't fit in Kate's Subaru, and I was without car that day, so we walked the 5 and a half-foot painting down Cooper Street and across Central Avenue. I felt quite a Midtowner.
The bunnies do look fantastic in the room, and perhaps they'll find a home this way. They have good artistic company. I'm fascinated by some of the paintings we've turned up in our gleanings.
This is a watercolor of a canoe full of violets. I truly love this. It;s old, maybe 1920s, and maybe by a girl scout? (That's the back story I've created, anyway). We're asking about $120 if you're interested. (But I'll have to check that figure. It may be less).
And if you need a 4' by 5' painting, here's one of my bunnies.
June 18, 2008
Cigar Flannel Flags
We share a love of vintage textiles-- mine is less educated, which is one of the great pleasures of working with Kate-- the woman knows her fabrics. One collection we have for sale is of tobacco flannels, often known as "cigar flannels" or "cigar felts". This is a misnomer though, because there's no evidence that these little pennants were ever found in cigar boxes (perhaps they have been assumed to come from there because their size is so often cigar-box-dimensioned) and they are never made of felt.
These small printed pennants were usually male-oriented in design. Flags of the world are common (most of ours are of flags) but butterflies also show up, aimed at female consumers (we also have some of these).
The flannels were distributed in or on cigarette and tobacco products, and larger felts were available in catalogs that consumers shopped in with coupons distributed in tobacco products.
The flannels are charming pinned to a string, as we show them in the shop, or lovely framed. They were often incorporated into quilts, which are highly collectible. Just one makes an interesting gift, while a grouping makes quite a visual statement. We are offering these for ten dollars each.
June 15, 2008
Hat Party!
For the new First Thursday event in Cooper-Young, we showcased a cache of vintage hats and various accessories and had a little impromptu hat party. Of course, we donned hats ourselves (Elise wore a little black-velvet number and Kate was dashing in a 1920s brimmed lovely. We snapped a few pictures of customers modeling chapeaus, though most were (understandably) blog-shy, everyone looked fantastic.
We met some lovely people, drank sweet white wine, and enjoyed lounging in our feverish-pink room.
Elise and Kate
cell phone and a chic floral topper!
skillful modeling of vintage Dior chapeau
Update on sweet good-byes
Good-bye to the kangaroo and baby, good-bye to the wooden rolling dog, good-bye distressed table, good-bye amazing Hollywood lamp I neglected to ever photograph, good-bye two of the four deco-rugs, good-bye art-nouveau wing-back,good-bye, good-bye good-bye to so many friends.
June 12, 2008
Lullabye in Birdland
Thoreau, who is not my favorite writer by any means, although we share some value systems, wrote, not very pithily, that,
There is some of the same fitness in a man’s building his own house that there is in a bird’s building its own nest. Who knows but if men constructed their dwellings with their own hands, and provided food for themselves and families simply and honestly enough, the poetic faculty would be universally developed, as birds universally sing when they are so engaged?
P. D. James, who's not quite the literary elite, said it better when she wrote that
God gives every bird his worm, but He does not throw it into the nest.
People, you've got to work to make your home beautiful. Thanks to all our customers who helped make May a good month for us, and who are happy to let us play early bird for them.
Our little nesty area changes as birds fly in and out. Here are some current pictures.
June 7, 2008
Oyster Stew
There are always a few things that inexplicably don't immediately go home with the first person who looks at them. This sentiment, of course, says more about my infatuation with these objects than with the public. But Feelings count for something, don't they?
One poem that circulates among mothers and children in my family lilts, "Around, around, and around she flew and plunged it into the oyster stew."
An antique shop feels a bit like a stew. And I'm convinced that the following objects are oysters! Eat up.
A wonderful carved rolling dog toy from the 1920s.
The funny tin doll shower.
The magisterial felt kangaroo and child.
June 4, 2008
Gilbert Chesterton wrote that "Art consists of limitation. The most beautiful part of every picture is the frame." If we ignore his metaphor and decide to be literal, we may take a pause to consider how lovely yesterday's frames were. Of course, we think decay makes them even lovelier. But to the severely corroded (or unhelpfully "touched up" we felt obliged to gussy them up a bit. Here's a smattering of some current frames.
June 1, 2008
Thank you Kate, for knowing that really, I couldn't sell the handtinted engraving of the boy and the bunny.
Thanks for helping me have a wonderful birthday weekend!
