Today's Finds

Goddess, Pair of Swans, Pair of Asian etchings. Pair of stone candle holders

Mid Century Silver Plate Taper Holder, Mid Century Serving Spoons, Asian Bowl

Amber Murano glass bowl and kitschy Egyptian leather pouf

Mid Century Modern Word Salad

Monumental C. Jere Birds in Flight available now at Lula B's Riverfront

word salad - noun - incoherent speech consisting of both real and imaginary words, lacking comprehensive meaning and occurring in advanced schizophrenic states.

Gintzing, skintzing, and skanking. These are variations of a host of words I use to describe, well, getting screwed out of something.  Gintzing is a milder affliction, something like a barista forgetting your whip cream. Skintz is a little more serious, akin to someone not giving you back the correct change and skanking is most definitely intentional deceit with the purpose of taking something that belongs to someone else. Mens rea at it's most culpable dear reader.  My fellow native English speakers may have noticed that none of these words has ever graced the pages of Merrriam Webster. To date in fact, they have only made the short trip from my vernacularly liberal lips to the irritated ears of my husband.  I confess I feel a little guilty as his face fills with the concern of a man who is witnessing his life partner exhibit the early signs of schizophrenia.... C'est la vie!

Anyway, I imagine that Curtis Freiler and Jerry Fels must have partaken in at least one helping of word salad before coming up with their nom de plume, Curtis Jere. I watch shoppers struggle through the halls of Lula Bs trying to remember the name of that French guy who did all the metal sculptures.  I imagine that in their heart of hearts Curtis and Jerry hoped that they would never be found out.  You can feel that whimsy and playfulness in many of their designs.  I have considered trying to mold my Texas Spanish Florabama transplant interpretation of "Yarray" into the intended French Jere complete with accent aigu but I think C and J would have enjoyed a good laugh standing behind me and watching me struggle with my early onset schizophrenia.  

Either way I am enjoying my favorite C. Jere that for now brings a bit of playfulness to my den and I am not feeling gintzed, skintzed or skanked. Freiler or Fels, Francofiles or Throne of Lies...it is marvelous.
Marvelous C. Jere whimsy in the den


Melvin's Egg

"Egg" - Artists Proof - Can't figure out the name of the artist - Found in Melvin's booth (across from mine)
I sell vintage at an antique mall that has made a name for itself selling the unique. As I head to my booth, I try to the best of my ability to "keep my head down."  Promise.  If you work in some fabulous retail joint or art museum you already know what I am talking about. If you are one of those sane fortunate people who have a day job removed from the material, try this one on for size. Imagine that you are at work and that you have just put in a sixty hour work week. As you walk to your desk, those sixty hours that you worked are manifest in something that was made just for you, maybe it is that Stella McCartney leather that you keep kicking yourself for not buying on clearance this Spring, perhaps it is something like a perfectly cooked filet, or maybe it is Johnny Depp, whatever. Imagine the thing, meal or person that you want most. Well my thing is vintage and the aisles are full of things that were designed mostly in particular for moi. I have limited the color palette in my home to three in an attempt to keep food on the table with the remaining spectrum.   So when I say I try to keep my head down, I do not lie.  Occasionally though, I have to look up. People will say hello and you simply cannot be rude; sometimes shoppers need things and as this is a retail establishment, it is in my best interest to do so;  sometimes my one year old decides the ideal time to make a run for the door is when I am trying to hang a light fixture. Needless to say, I look up and when I do I often find the most perfect picture that I have been looking for to hang in my little kitchen in my little yellow and blue and green house. I spend a little cash and I trade for the rest and Voila - Artist's Proof - "Egg" - artist unknown


Dead People's Photos

Children still alive - Norma Lynn's first dance troupe - No gold to be found -That's right
It may be my twisted Catholic upbringing but I feel a "responsibility" to purchase photos of other people's dead family members. All it takes is some hand tinted pink cheeked Shirley Temple look alike or some square black and white glossy of a street urchin and I am throwing away money.
The way I see it, there are two scenarios. The first is that there is no more family, that everyone who had a vested interest in that particular pink cheeked cutie or ragamuffin is dead and they are forgotten - (unless I buy the photo of course). The second and in my opinion, the most disappointing, is that the children in those photos somehow managed to raise a bunch of thankless degenerates who drove away the Mercedes loaded with every every gram of gold they could sniff out but didn't give a damn about their parents baby pictures or their own for that matter. 
That is where I come in - never fear poor deceased cherubs, red, yellow, black and white, because I have your photos and you will become my instant ancestors -  my adopted grandparents from dubious geography - my cousins many times removed with foreign features - I am here and in generations to come, my grandchildren will proudly display your photos in their books and on their walls as they share the stories of their very large, very diverse family.



It should come as no surprise really that this is my first foray into blogging - after all, we call ourselves "vieux" which is "old" in French.  I love to write, I have always loved to write, the right way, with my favorite pen... alone...in my room, with my hair pulled away and out of my mind, channeling Emily Dickinson and Sylvia Plath,  folding these thoughts revealed into eighths to spend their lives or at least my lifetime in boxes.

But here I am, sharing my second love with you, hunting.  My husband and I hunt - we hunt vintage, vintage furniture, clothing, accessories, ephemera. This is a journal for me - I can no longer remember all the things I have loved and lost. Wonderful things... things painfully and beautifully constructed - things researched and refinished, things re-purposed and those abandoned... I look forward to looking back.