My Vintage Soul

Blog Interrupted

I'm taking a little break, but not of my own choosing. I'm trying to resolve an issue about the amount of photos I'm uploading. Be back soon. I hope.

Santas & Elves

It was a good year for finding Santas and elves.

 

In fact, my elf population more than doubled. I added two red felt elves and three shiny elves in green, silver and gold. I'm not sure, however, if that green elf is loving his new home. He looks, well, a little startled.

 

Over in Santa land, the new arrivals include this Spaghetti Santa. Spaghetti Santas are so named because of that bumpy trim on them. I had never seen a Spaghetti Santa until a few years ago when I came across one that someone had tossed to the side of the road during town cleanup. 

 

This Santa found me at the thrift store a few weeks ago. I think he's already one of my favorites.

 

Another new Santa is the red plastic one on green skis. He's a candy container and I found him at a church rummage sale. Right behind him is my other Spaghetti Santa, the one I found during town cleanup.

 

And finally, another set of Santa salt and pepper shakers. I don't collect salt and peppers but I make an exception for Santa.

 

Heck, I even bought a single salt shaker because it was a Holt Howard and I tell myself that the S stands not for salt but for Santa.

 

He's the one on the very top shelf. If you want a closeup of him, visit Barb's blog. She was lucky enough to find a matched set.

 

And here's the complete Santa setup. If you look closely, you'll see yours truly in the window, taking the photo.
 

Decking the Halls, 1956 Style

I've often thought that I was born too late. To me, the ultimate decade of vintage was  the 1950s, and I wasn't around then. So, at first glance, I was thrilled to find this little book entitled ''Christmas Decorations'' in a box of Christmas junk. It was published in 1956 by Cornell Cooperative Extension Service at Cornell University.

 

Mostly, it's about how to use fresh greenery in your holiday decor, which I seldom do. Maybe someday, when I have the time to impersonate Martha Stewart, but not now. Oddly enough, at the same time that it focuses on natural elements, it also talks about "a new material, plastic foam." From the looks of the pictures, it seems they're talking about styrofoam (or is it still Styrofoam?)

 

The booklet also contains some general holiday decorating advice, which I have decided to ignore. I mean, really, what's the point of doing up your house if you're decorating in a straight-jacket. For instance:

Christmas decorations add so much zest and gaiety to the season that it is easy to get carried away with the idea and to over-decorate. There is no reason to drape every picture frame and light fixture with boughs of holly or balsam. As a matter of fact, over-decorating may weaken the effect because attention is diverted to too many spots with a subsequent lack of concentration on any one.

Well, to that, I say this: Bah humbug. Any true vintage collector knows that Christmas is the one time of the year that you can go crazy and no one can stop you. And that's just what I do, without an ounce of guilt. I want my Santa wreath in the kitchen, my tinsel garland in the front hallway and my growing collection of nativities on top of the piano.

 

 In fact, this year I plan to squeeze in a little more, if there's time and room.

So let's get started with my 12 days of Christmas decorating, or at least that seems like how long it takes to put it all up and take it all down.

 

24 Years and Counting

 

It was 24 years ago today that I married Mr. Vintage Soul. And I've been blessed ever since. He's my best friend and a wonderful dad. And, yes, he does put up with my junking ways so that makes him extra special. 

 

When I think about that day what I remember most was how unusually calm and composed I was. Normally, I'm the person who cries at any sentimental movie or even a Hallmark card commercial. I'm hoping to get through my daughter's graduation in June without being a blubbering mess but it's unlikely.

 

 But on Dec. 7, 1985, I was just fine. I must have known that I was doing the right thing.

Divine Intervention?

I talk to God. And I think he talks back. I guess that I also think that God is a he but that's a whole different post, isn't it? ¶

Lately it seems that God or someone up there is giving me a mixed message when it comes to my thrifting habits.¶

 

On one hand, I sometimes think there's been some kind of divine intervention influencing my recent finds. Even in Ohio over Thanksgiving break, in an endless display of over-priced dollar store crap (see above), I managed to find a few vintage goodies. ¶

 

A box of vintage garland and six of the cutest elf heads I've ever seen. Note that I put the heads on the garland; they aren't actually attached to it.¶

But last week, at my somewhat regular Thursday morning stop at St. Matthew's thrift shop, I was getting a different message. I'm just not sure what it is.¶

 

I had done reasonably well, spending $2.25 for a holiday tablecloth, some honeycomb bells and a cute miniature tree. But when I tried to make my quick escape to work, I was stuck. Or actually my car was, which meant I was too. There I was, boxed in by a double-parked funeral procession that snaked around the parking lot. ¶

So what was God telling me now? Was this a penance for my pre-work thrift stop? Should I thrift a little less? Is it time to stop buying stuff or open that Etsy shop and clear out the clutter?  (I think Mr. VS would vote for that last option.)¶

 

Maybe it was all of that, plus this: Life happens (and so does death). Sometimes you have no option but to sit still and contemplate the message. And one more thing. If you want to double-park, do it at a funeral. There's really nothing that anyone can do about it.

Thankful Decor

 

This post started out to be a tutorial about how you can make your own vintage Thanksgiving decor, because, for me, finding the real thing has been pretty elusive. A few Gurley turkeys here and there, some honeycomb turkeys, but not much more.

And then, you know what happened? Yes, the same thrift store folks who hoard the vintage Christmas must also hoard the vintage Thanksgiving, because I stumbled on a few things. More about that later. First, my version of vintage Thanksgiving decor.

 

Because I'm always looking for new things that look vintage, I was immediately taken with these paper plates that I saw at the grocery store. I just couldn't figure out how to use them. And then, I thought about pleating some good old crepe paper (gosh, I love that stuff) all around. The result? The perfect accent for the pine cone garland and wreath that I hang above the kitchen sink.

 

 So onto to the real vintage stuff.

 

A Gurley pilgrim gal and a Gurley pilgrim guy. Completely out of proportion, I know, but for 69 cents each, I'm not complaining.

 

A rafter of feathered turkeys, as Barbara says. All three were 50 cents at a church rummage shop.

And that's it, except to wish you and yours a happy and safe Thanksgiving. The VS household is hitting the road soon to see family and friends. And I'm going to try and sneak in a stop or two at an Ohio thrift store just to see if they also hoard all the holiday vintage stuff too.

 

 

 

Miracle(s) at the Thrift Stores

If I could, I would buy vintage Christmas 365 days a year. So, it's a good thing, as I'm sure that Mr. VS would agree, that the thrift stores hoard the Christmas donations they collect and put it out only after Halloween. A store clerk admitted to me as much.

But that doesn't mean it's all good stuff. Actually, most of it is crap, so it's taken quite a bit of timing and luck to find some gems among all those Dollar Tree resin figures. But find them, I have. Here, in random order, is what I consider to be the good stuff that I've found recently.

 

Japanese reindeer, BIG Santa, little Santa, some glittered bells.

 

Plastic foil holly picks, glittery white bells and a bottle brush mini wreath. Those bells, by the way, I found in a box of ugly plastic poinsettia. That's what I mean about luck. 

 

 

Flannel Christmas stocking. It was the retro Merry Christmas script that caught my eye.

 

The best find was inside this box. I think my heart skipped a beat when I looked inside.

 

Quick, somebody call 911. There's a lady hyperventilating in the Christmas aisle, which would have been me.

 

These little candle huggers/holders are in perfect shape. Could it get any better? Why, yes, it did. When I got to the register, the cashier took one look at the beat-up old box and told me he was only going to charge me 99 cents instead of $1.99. Who was I to argue?

And last, but not least, a big roll of vintage wrapping paper.

 

 

I had to buy it. After all, it's everything I want in an extra-big box of vintage wrapping paper: attractive, convenient and economical to use. I hope you like as much as I do because you'll be seeing a lot of it in the coming weeks. I think it's my new backdrop for holiday photos.

 
 
 
 
 

I've Been En-Lightened

Ever since I found a bag-ful of dirt-cheap Christmas candlesticks, I've been on the lookout for C-7 bulbs.

The other day, I found some. And a whole lot more.

I now own what should be a lifetime supply of Christmas lights. I have a big supply of mini lights, including some with fun plastic covers, some C-9s, and, yes, lots of C-7s. I also have some vintage light boxes although they need a little work to bring them back into shape.

 

And, I even found PINK C-7s, which look great in the silver candlesticks, although they still "burn" red.

 

 

Boy, do those suckers get hot. Which I should have known if I had looked closely at one of those vintage boxes. Someone was trying to warn me. I don't know how clear the writing is, but to me, it says "Careful."

 

And finally, after all that digging through the box and a few hours of winding and testing the bulbs (many thanks to my mom who helped), I found a bonus: A envelope of vintage stencils, including that cute Santa. 

 
 

 

Halloween Holy Grail

It took a little time to get the Halloween decorations down. Which, as it turned out, was a good thing. That way, I was able to pack a little something more into the Halloween box.

 

On Saturday, I picked up something totally unexpected at a church rummage sale. On top of a table of otherwise unremarkable stuffed animals and used toys was a vintage child-size witch's cape with very cool flocked graphics. I know I held my breath as I reached for it and hoped that another hand wouldn't get there before mine.

 

I'm not sure how much it was, because I paid $1.50 for it, a dish towel, a made in Japan stuffed Santa and a half-dozen sewing patterns. So, maybe 50 cents????

I packed it right on top of the other Halloween items so that it would be the first thing I see next October. I know it's sure to bring just as big a smile to my face as it did on Saturday.

Wrapping Up The Picasso Project(s)

If you're lucky, then you know that something is magical while you are experiencing it. Today, I am very lucky.

 

And it's not because my daughter's high school marching band on Sunday won its 30th state title (in 36 years). Admittedly, such a finish is a great way to cap the last four years. But I would feel this lucky no matter how the band finished because of the magical journey she's been on and everything she learned from it.

 

 She learned that hard work really does pay off. And that there's a reason for paying attention to the details.

 

She learned to be dedicated through heat and cold and wind and rain, and through all those after-school and Saturday rehearsals.

She eventually learned to remember her gloves and her MTXs (band shoes) but she knew that if she forgot them, she could count on mom and dad. And she learned to be a (section) leader and to count on her fellow bandies too.

 

She learned that it's a privilege to step into a tradition of excellence but that it takes an unselfish attitude to continue that tradition. And she learned that despite a history of winning, that every time you step on the field, you always try your best. Nothing is ever taken for granted.

And maybe, although she may not admit it, she may have learned that the elementary music teacher was right when he told her in the fifth grade to practice her saxophone a little more. Her dedication to her music increased with her love of the band.

I am grateful that she shared the experience with me. Four years ago, when I told her I wanted to volunteer to be a uniform mom, she rolled her eyes just a little and then she let me into her special circle.

And what did I learn?

 

Well, most recently, I learned that in less than one week, I could make 14 decoupaged picture frames, a senior shadow box, a photo album and have my daughter tell me that I needed a cape (to truly be a super mom), which made all my exhaustion worthwhile. Eventually, I'll get around to making her the fourth and final pillow from the show T-shirt. You see, I've learned that sometimes even super moms can't  do everything.

 

I've learned how quickly teenagers can grow from one season to the next. I know that when they hand you their uniform after a performance that you always need to check their pockets for gum, a cell phone or a glove.

 

I learned to look at yards and yards of white muslim fabric and believe that it could really become 75 pairs of angel wings. And that you can make a color guard flag that resembles the sign at a railroad crossing.

And I also learned the value of teamwork because I was only one of a special group of moms and dads who gave as much time and effort as I did over the last four years. Today, I know they're feeling like I do. Lucky.