Not that I have the space or anything, but I've started a new collection: vintage copper cookware. I'm obsessed. It all started with a few skillets I found at my local Goodwill. The pans were cheap and unmarked, but pretty. I hung them on the wall. But lately, copper has been popping up at my regular thrifting haunts on a regular basis. And I can't resist! I'm buying it like crazy! I now have the three little pans I started with. Small, medium and large sauce pots/pans, and a big, heavy sauté pan (all with lids, natch). I heard tell of people finding copper awesomeness at thrift stores in the past, but I never thought I would get so lucky. The stuff I've been finding has been tarnished, but it turns out, cleaning copper is super duper easy. Lemon juice and salt, plus a little patience, gets it shining in no time. Of course, it doesn't look "like new" but a little patina is right up my alley anyway. So my point? No point! I just want to urge you to consider hunting down some vintage copper cookware. Mine comes from all over the world and most of it is marked. I have a piece of "Paul Revere-ware" from the States, a pot from Portugal, another from Chile and one from France. It's all slightly different, but you would never know it wasn't a real set. Plus, it's beautiful and fun, and great for cooking. Copper is super conductive and I find it very easy to use. Cooks meat perfectly, for example. Responds very quickly to temperature changes on the stove dial. Yes, the tinning on the insides will wear out over time, but even though my new/old pans have been around for awhile, the tinning in them seems fine. And besides, copper cookware is WILDLY expensive new. (The Mauviel line, carried at Williams Sonoma, costs $2,800 for a 12 piece set. I already have many more pieces in my collection, in practically new condition, and I paid less than $10 per piece.) Think about that. You could buy a single pan from Williams Sonoma (or register for one as a wedding gift, putting the burden of purchasing an idiotic $300 piece of metal on your poor friends), or you could keep your eyes peeled at your local Goodwill and get something that will work wonderfully, look amazing, and cost less than $10. No one will know the difference!
Hey all. Sorry things have been a bit slow on the blog lately. Getting married very shortly. Lots of to do. Been busy. But not too busy to thrift! In fact, I had a very successful thrifting day about a week ago. In addition to a couple of dresses and some bits and bobs for Will & Bequeath, I came across a great find I just had to share with you: an Erkers enamelware bowl!My bowl is yellow, with a black rim, like the yellow one shown above. And I looooove it. My obsession with vintage enamelware started fairly recently, with a piece of Catherineholm that I blogged about here. Since then, it's grown, and now I have several different pieces scattered around my apartment. But this is my first Erkers. And it was only $2.02! According to a profile on Design Arkivet, "Arne Erkers was born in Leksand and at the age of 24, decided to move to Stockholm as he for a long time had been interested in drawing." He worked as a gold and silversmith and a freelance designer, and founded the Erkers Design Studio around 1955. He designed my bowl (and the Raff pitcher, which obviously influenced similar designs currently at IKEA) for Kockums Jernverks AB in Kallinge. (My piece, like all similar pieces, is marked "Kockum Sweden".) "Function is an important aspect of Arne Erkers design. His view of his profession was that the task of the designer was to design objects as simple and practical as possible. With this as a starting point he created articles as diverse as ball bearing joints and stackable saucepans but also had bold ideas about more practical cars and lawnmowers, sadly never put into production." Erkers lives into his 90s and passed away recently, in 2010.
If you're looking for vintage enamelware, search online for Cathrineholm and Finel, and add words like "Scandinavian" and "enamelware" and you should come up with a lot of options. But don't discount Erkers. While less well-know, his work is just as nice.
I like my bowl because of it's unusual rounded-triangular shape and low profile. I also love the tone of the yellow. It has one flaw -- a hole in the enamel -- but I just keep that bit turned away and never think about it. (Remember, it was only $2!)
Super find! Yay!
So... I'm a little OCD.
Okay, I'm more than a little OCD. But it's not that bad.
I don't have OCD in that amusing "I'm such an organized perfectionist!" sort of way. Rather, I am obsessive in the l "I lie awake all night worrying" sort of way, and compulsive in the "it's 3am and I MUST scrub down the cabinets" sort of way. Neither of which is a good.
But it could be a lot worse, so I try not to complain about it.
Here's the latest thing I'm obsessing about: making everything in my kitchen cabinets "match."
 Remember back when I blogged about French bistro glasses? Well, since then, I've converted nearly all my glassware to matching, bistro-style sets. The only glasses in my cabinet that aren't faceted are the wine glasses. And it's bothering me. So I'm thinking of getting new wine glasses. (Even though I hardly use the ones I have and there's not a thing wrong with them anyway.) I'm considering these new Pokal ones, from IKEA:
I should confess that already (just last week, in fact) I indulged in a set of six teeny weenie shot-sized bistro glasses that I absolutely didn't need.
Of course, I didn't HAVE six matching shot glasses already. And the set (also IKEA) was only $2.99. So I felt semi-justified... but ... BUT ...
Would getting the wine glasses be going too far? Would the all-matching, all-faceted look even be a good thing? Or am I being too obsessive again?
P.S. Happy Leap Day! ;)
Know what I've really been into lately?
Pheasants.
All sorts of pheasants. Regular pheasants, wild pheasants, golden pheasants. Pheasant salt and pepper shakers, pheasant earrings, pheasants on plates and glassware.
It's kitschy, but I'm obsessed. Not sure why. I've just got pheasants on the brain.
_Creative commons Image of golden pheasant feathers by Paul Tonner, SXC.
My sis got one of these plates from my grandparents and every time I'm at her house, I wanna steal it.
This embroidered pheasant pillow is currently for sale from LittleMsTips on Etsy.
This emerald pheasant figurine is for sale from PatinaVie on Etsy.
I have no idea what's wrong with me. The whole "put a bird on it" thing hasn't seemed to dampen my enthusiasm at all. And objectively speaking, pheasants are kind of ugly... aren't they?
Besides that, I already HAVE several. A couple of yellow ones are sitting on my coffee table right now.
Not sure what to do about this, or even why I'm sharing with you. Any members of pheasants anonymous out there? Wanna commiserate?
 Part 1: When I was a little girl, I had a lot of keepsakes. Little bits and bobs and things that I kept in an old wooden box under my bed.
The box was one of those 60s-era treasure-chest jewellery boxes. I got it at a yard sale. With my allowance.
Despite the fact that box mostly contained items I'd found on the street (feathers, pennies, broken bits of jewellery), I kept it secure with a discarded mini-padlock from one of my mother's suitcases. You know the kind. The ones you can easily open with a bobby pin, or break with your bare hands. I enjoyed wearing the key around my neck, hanging from an old piece of string.
I was such a little grub.
 Part 2: My parents sent me to Catholic elementary school, which was strange considering that my father, at least, is an atheist.
Regardless, Catholicism - with the whole "drink my blood" thing, stigmata, angels and plenty of other supernatural excess - was a major part of my formative years.
And every year, the littlest kids at my school would gather in the gym for a showing of the animated "filmstrip" version of The Littlest Angel.
I don't remember much about the story except that it gave me anxiety. The little boy angel/hero left his treasure box behind when he died. They didn't let him take it with him to heaven! The box contained "earthly treasures" like butterfly wings and interesting pebbles. In other words... it's was just like mine. And that concerned me, because I didn't like the idea that I might have to go to heaven and leave my best stuff behind. (And worse, that even if a nice angel helped me get it back, I'd eventually have to give all my stuff away to the stupid Christ child! I didn't even KNOW the kid! Eesh.)
Elementary school was a very stressful time.
 Part 3: Even now (into my 30s and for all intents and purposes a "grown woman") I find I have a special place in my heart from all my little treasures. Even the weird ones.
So, I frame them.
I started with a 25-year-old blue jay feather. Got a dollar store frame. Popped in a piece of white computer paper for a mat, and placed the feather in the centre. No glue, no nothing. Looks great. And it's up on the wall, so I get to see it every day.
That's really the point of this post: I get to see it every day. These are the sort of details that make a home happy.
Most recently, I framed a little silver pendant that I found on the street in 2008. It's something to do with me and Nathan. Kind of embarrassing to explain. I carried it around as a good luck charm (often putting it in my sock for safe keeping). I'm pretty sure this talisman made him fall in love with me... because yes, I'm that girl.
Anyway. It just gives me a good feeling. So...
It looks pretty cute, right? And it now hangs with the other oddities in a salon-style display (a new one, which I'll be posting about soon).
Do you like it, or am I a weirdo?
I have so many posts in the hopper right now, it's not even funny. But so many of them require just one more picture, or a bit of staging. So in the meantime, I'm going to tell you about the number one item on my current wishlist: a door knocker.
We live in a rental with an old doorbell. It's probably been broken since the 1950s. But people always push it, not realizing that it doesn't work. So I thought a knocker (perhaps with a little note telling folks to knock) would be a pretty solution. But I'm finding it really hard to find something!
Here are a few of the ones I've found (online). I like these, but I don't love any of them. And without seeing them in person and testing the heft, I'm just not sure I want to buy one.
What do you think? Do you like any of these?
This "Sly Fox" knocker is from Anthropologie and is $24.99, but it looks a little small and I'm not sure about the tail.
This vintage cast iron knocker is from JunkFromMyTrunk on Etsy. It's $28. But I don't think the seller ships to Canada (and that would up the price too much anyway). I love Victorian-style hand knockers like this one, but there seems to be a massive price range online (say $10 to $300). I can't tell what's real and what's reproduction. And I can't spend $300. (My budget for this is $50 max). Plus, as I said, without seeing the knockers in person, I can't be sure I like them.
Anyway, what do you think? Got any advice for me? Should I go with an animal, a regular knocker, or a weird shape like a hand? And I need local help: know any Toronto brick and mortar places with good knockers? (No strip club jokes, please.)
Sometimes I think I only want to have kids because I want to decorate their rooms.
There, I said it.
Kid's stuff is just SO CUTE. And I see things I want to buy for wee ones ALL THE TIME. But I can't. Because not only do I not have the space. I don't have the spawn.
(Now, before you flame me, let's note the following: 1. I'm kidding (kinda). And 2. You probably had some selfish reasons for having your kids too. So there.)
Anyway. I was in my local Goodwill the other day and I saw an awesome little mid-century modern desk, with a world-map top. It was kind of like this:
Here's a different, similar one:
I would have bought it in a SECOND (only $20!)... if only I had a kid. Here's some other kid stuff I've been eying and/or wanting to make:A teepee or tent like this one made by Lindsay over at the Little House Blog Or this EKORRE rocking moose (also IKEA) And for art, maybe I'd frame up some of my favourite vintage children's illustrations, like these, from Kartusch (Serendipity Books) by Stephen Cosgrove, illustrated by Robin James. Or perhaps something a little less intense? Like these French Barbapapa illustrations! And while we're talking books, I'd stock the shelves with all my favourites!
And I'd throw in some truly classic toys, just for good measure.
Yes sir. I would have a darn good time doin' up a baby's room.
Of course, then I'd be stuck with a baby. And who needs that?
I know I've been flooding the chic blog with semi-boring posts about odd thrift store finds of late, but bear with me. I've been doing more thrifting and less DIYing over the last few months in an effort to spend as much time as possible OUTSIDE of my stifling apartment.
Now that it looks like fall is here (or at least, imminent), the winds are sure to shift.
But in the meantime, here's one more post about a weird thrifted object: the lady's head vase.
Popular in the 1950s, the lady's head vase is a kind of "florists ware." Often ceramic, in my opinion, the vases were kind of ugly and overdone, but nonetheless appealing in a kitchy sort of way.
And this weekend, I found one for $0.50 that suited me perfectly: A milk-glass version from around 1980.
Not exactly gorgeous, I know, but it's a nice addition to my milk glass collection and I find it charming. And remember, it was only $0.50. I've been thinking that this sort of piece may have given way to (or influenced) folks like Jonathan Adler. After all, he did all those Dora Maar vases. In a way, they seem to be of the same ilk. Hard to say if it's really evolution. All I know is that I like it.
I bought a new/old coffee table book at Goodwill last weekend. The dust jacket is in rough shape, but even with a few tears and wrinkles, the cover is iconic.
This is one of those books I don't really plan to read. Once in awhile, I may flip through it, but from what I hear, Mailer wasn't really the expert on Marilyn he claimed to be. And besides, his prose is irritating.
I expect I'll just look at the pictures from time to time and use this bad boy as a conversation/coffee-table piece.
I used to have many more coffee table books, but alas, they were lost in the great schism of 2007 (which is to say, my move to Toronto). My ex, well, sucks... so my old tomes probably went into the trash, which makes me sad. But here are just a few of my old faves:
 Okay... I'm cheating. That Tom Ford book came out in 2008. But isn't it PRETTY? I wish I had it, but it's pretty expensive.
Coffee table books are kind of a silly thing to love. I have tonnes of them and I never look through them. I just move them around my house from vignette to vignette. They resemble general clutter. Or do they? I can't decide.
For the past few years, I've been spending time at a cottage at Sauble Beach with Nate's family. And at his rental cottage is a mug. A mug I want.
I've considered stealing it, but while I often think such things, I never follow though. (Don't worry, my kleptomaniac tendencies are kept in check by my strong moral fibre... and a fear of getting caught.)
Anyway. This year, as I sipped my morning coffee from "hoot" as I've come to call it, I thought it might be time to stop plotting theft and start doing research.
 From what I've gleaned online (in particular from this page from the Canadian Design Resource), this mug is part of a set that was distributed at gas stations in the 1970s. However, each mug is marked in a way that doesn't make this obvious. (Wow. That pic is blurry, eh?) The bottoms read: Royal Alma, Ironstone Made in England, Staffordshire.
Despite the British stamp, I believe the idea was to make something with a distinctly Canadian theme, hence the Northern animals. The plan seems to have been to encourage people to collect a full set of six, which would include: - a pale green reindeer mug
- an orange walrus mug
- a blue beaver mug
- a blue goose mug
- a brown/tan polar bear mug
- the yellow owl mug
Here' s a photo of a few of the other colours, as shown on the Canadian Design Resource page: I've NEVER seen these guys at Salvation Army, Goodwill or Value Village, but from what I hear, they do appear from time to time.
I don't know why I like them so much. Maybe because they're so clearly vintage, but graphic and modern at the same time. Maybe it's that they're just slightly awkward. Maybe it's the candy colours. I don't know. All I know is that I want them. I want them bad. Especially hoot. I think I want hoot the most.
Isn't it so much more fun to find something like this (even if it WAS once a gas-stop-giveaway) than it is to buy some lame, un-ironic knockoff at Anthropologie or Urban Outfitters? I think so.
Am I weird to love it? Isn't there anything cheap-o and old that you love? Especially at the cottage?
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