Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Say hello to my little friend

Above is Dorthina, my latest mannequin-ey thing.  

She's the fourth to hold the job of wearing stuff for the camera, prior to selling same online. 

Because I know you'll find this semi-fascinating, here is my history with mannequins and mannequin-ey things:

The first one was a dress form, like seamstresses use and like they used to sell in the old Sears catalogs.  Nice enough, but I couldn't put pants on it because of the pole it rested on.  

The second one I found one miraculous day I was up in a little burg upstate, and a clothing shop that had been there since at least the 1930's was closing down.  The owner, who was retirement age,  was offering regular mannequins for $50 and and ones with glass eyes for $75.  I got a $50 one, and was so happy to find a reasonably priced mannequin, but I felt so bad for the owner.  She was very weepy, and was having a hard time holding it together.  The shop had been established by her parents, and they were gone, the shop was going, and even the town itself, which had once been what's known as a 'thriving metropolis'  was now firmly on a downward slide.  I still think about her sometimes.

That mannequin lasted for a few years, but slowly bits and pieces of it were getting broken.  The stand didn't care for my lumpy floor, and so the mannequin would topple over now and again.  Plus, it didn't have an actual stomach; that part was covered with this stretchy fabric, which was not in great shape, so anything I photographed that would show abdomen looked weird and creepy.

The third one was found at the Golden Nugget flea market in Lambertville, NJ.  The guy had five or six mannequins from the 1980's.  Some were in better condition than others, but I was able to get one of the better ones for $35.  

This one didn't have a stand.  It stood nicely on its own as long as the legs were placed in the appropriate position.

I'd still have it today if it were able to stand on my lumpy floor.

But like the other one, bits and pieces broke over time.  The death knell was when my fiance (now husband) walked right into it and knocked it over in a big way.

At the time, he was screaming 'OH MY GOD, I'M BEING ATTACKED!!!," which I found pretty hilarious, but I stopped laughing once I surveyed the damage.

The mannequin was jointed at the waist, and after having attacked my husband, I could never again join the bodice to the waist properly.

So one day two weeks ago, I was moaning and whining about how much I needed a new mannequin.

WIthin less than 24 hours, God came through with Dorthina, who was found at Quaker City flea.

So far, she's the best of all.  Her stand can withstand my lumpy floor, and I don't have to worry about arms and legs getting broken and falling apart.  Plus she's fairly light and easy to dress.


Friday, June 17, 2011

Take your fingers from my hair...

On second thought...
How cool is this vintage barrette?

throwing in the...

vintage towel.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Libibity Blue

Above some plates in the super-popular Liberty Blue pattern, which was made for the 1976 Bicentennial.

So why Libibity Blue?

Well, also in the 1970's there was a PSA which featured an angry voice singing 'There's another... crack (he really leaned on that word) in your Libibibibity Bell...."

The subject of the PSA was equal this, and every kinda people that.  I am only one of two people I know who remember it, but I'd give my right kidney to see it again.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

per your request

We at Full-Service Bohemian HQ were inundated with requests for photos of Ms. Ivy's aforementioned (two posts ago) tummage.

FSBHQ is proud to respond.


Saturday, June 4, 2011

hair it is

One of the thousands of cool things about dealing in antiques is that you learn stuff.  

For example, what do you think the item above might be?

Nope, not for potpourri, although that was a good guess.

It's actually to hold hair.

Yes, hair.  From the heads of people, but from ladies specifically.

Back in the day, your average lady never got her hair cut, so it grew and grew, and because middle-class Victorian ladies had a lot of time on their hands, they had the bright idea to make jewelry (among other things) from their hair.  And what they would do after giving their crowning glory its nightly 100 strokes was to remove the hair from the brush and store it in pretty little things like the above.  They're called 'hair receivers.'

In my 18 year career I have yet to get a piece of hair jewelry, although I've seen it and there is still lots out there, plus there are people today who are making jewelry and stuff from human hair.

Here's a website for interested parties:  http://www.hairworksociety.org  

It's not heavy on info or pictures, but it is worth a look.