Under the Influence: A Girl With Particular Shoes

So, Little Red Riding Hood said to the Blackbird Girls: "What big nerds you are!" And the Blackbird Girls shrugged in agreement....

We at Blackbird World Headquarters are unapologetic bookworms. One of us also happens to collect fairy tales, so when it was time to brainstorm our first photo shoot for the new website, turning to the magical world of literature was an easy step. While we could have run straight for Cinderella or Belle, we instead looked to the nameless, but fearless, heroine of a slightly more obscure story called The Enchanted Pig--or as we like to call it, The Girl in the Iron Shoes.

It isn't exactly a tale of boy meets girl. In this particular story, girl marries based on a prophetic book that she wasn't supposed to read. By night, the princess and her husband are able to...umm...live the married life. By day, he is a bona fide, mud-rolling pig. She happens to prefer the night-time version of her mate, and in an ill-timed attempt to break his porcine curse, the princess is punished with an impossible quest: to search the world for him, on foot, until she has worn through three pairs of iron shoes.

As the story goes: "On and on she wandered over nine seas and across nine continents; through forests with trees whose stems were as thick as beer- barrels; stumbling and knocking herself against the fallen branches, then picking herself up and going on; the boughs of the trees hit her face, and the shrubs tore her hands, but on she went, and never looked back." In addition to the traditional obstacles of a long journey on foot, the girl must visit four dangerous places to seek guidance. The first is the house of the Moon....

And what better outfit for this occasion than a cream 1960s mod mini and cape, paired with groovy 1960s cream Renauld sunglasses and a chunky silver pendant? The combat boots, of course, are her "iron shoes."

Next, she must hike to the house of the Sun. For this look, we put a 1960s gold sweater vest over a printed Carol Craig dress and added a copper turban, 1970s Dior sunglasses, and a groovy handmade copper statement necklace.

The third milestone of her quest is visiting the house of the Wind in a fluttery silk dress, 1970s green-framed Foster Grant sunglasses, faux pearl bracelet, and rhinestone earrings.

From there, she must walk across the vast Milky Way. We chose a sparkly sequined top with just the right amount of slouch, paired with cropped seersucker trousers, 1980s aviator sunglasses, a 1960s MGI studded purse suspended from her belt, a 1950s multi-strand necklace, and a shimmery rhinestone bangle.

At last, our intrepid heroine reaches the end of her quest at a weathered little house in a lush forest.  Here, she will prove to her husband that she is no longer the girl that he married, but a better (stronger) version of herself. For the "Honey, I'm home--and we need to talk" reunion, we dressed our model in a 1970s floral chiffon maxi dress under a metallic silver vest, and added black and coral sunglasses and screwback earrings.

The story has a happy ending, in which the pig's enchantment is broken, revealing him to be a prince from another kingdom. He weeps when his bride relates the tale of her harrowing journey, and they kiss. Soon afterward, they travel together to her father's castle, and he asks them to rule in his place. As the story concludes: "And they ruled as only kings rule who have suffered many things."

And although our well-traveled heroine can now prop up her feet and indulge in a well-deserved rest, we're sure that she will continue to be the Queen of Cool, and look incredibly fierce while doing so--in more comfortable footwear, of course.

Our photos look great on our shiny new website with some vintage celestial illustrations, including a couple of our favorite artists: Don Blanding and Dorothy Lathrop. We're keeping the Etsy shop open, but our favorite finds will end up at www.blackbirdgirlsvintage.com. Check us out!

Junk Love: Uhhh...Have We Met?

So, this week we were straightening up the house for visitors--not uncommon, right? But then reality came knocking at the door, and we realized just how massive the junk addiction has become. If you do a little soul-searching, you would have to admit that at least once in your life you have opened a drawer, noticed an object, and thought Where did that come from?

Imagine this happening over and over again for an entire afternoon.

It started with a flat, rectangular object wrapped in newspaper. I broke the tape with my fingernail and allowed the paper to fall away, and in my hands was a vintage 1940s pinup in a beautiful frame. a year ago, in an antique shop in Raleigh. It was love at first sight, and when I brought it home, I couldn't find the hammer to hang it. So I put it in a safe place, and then I forgot about it entirely. [*Cue music...Reunited, and it feels so good....]

After a moment of reflection, I remembered buying it--last summer, at a shop in Raleigh.

With my pinup placed in her proper home, I continued to clean. The next thing I found, also wrapped in newspaper, was a vintage Georges Briard tidbit dish. I collect vintage Briard, and I had a vague memory of picking this one up in a shop last summer. Again, I wanted to hang it with a wire plate hanger, but the hammer was missing, so....

I put the dish in the kitchen and resumed my original task. My house is the Land of Dust Bunnies, so it's a constant battle to keep those fluffy boogers in check. And since I have so much stuff in my house, there are things that don't get moved very often, and I imagine that little Utopian colonies of dust bunnies are living in harmony behind stacked suitcases or underneath the piano. I decided to sweep the No Man's Land beneath a corner display, and in addition to the softness of dust bunnies, my fingers encountered stiff paper. It was a brown shopping bag, and in it were four things--you guessed it: wrapped in newspaper. And this is where I lost my mind just a little bit.

Two mid-century cast iron and chrome candlesticks, one tall and one short. One set of pristine turquoise and white printed linen napkins. A white 1940s pottery planter. And I would swear that I have never seen any of it before in my life. The smudged receipt in the bottom of the bag was no help--a yellow carbon copy that showed only one-word descriptions of the items. No city or state or shop name. My only other clue was a small quantity of mail stuffed between the candlesticks, dated July of 2013.

Well, I remember going to Ohio in July two years ago. It was a big Blackbird trip, during which the car was packed to the headliner. But is that where these things came from? I definitely felt love for these items that tumbled out of newspaper onto my white bedspread. But I have no memory whatsoever of buying them. And neither does the other Blackbird girl.

It was a moment that held the joy of Christmas morning, with a dash of embarrassment. (Are we officially hoarders now????) But we finally brushed it off, found places for the items, and continued with our cleaning spree. We don't have a problem here, officer.

Until two hours later, when I found not one, but four bowling balls stashed in the living room. We stood over them with our hands on our hips, blinking in confusion. How did we end up with four giant balls? We don't even bowl. And how did two of them come to live in the wicker basket beneath our knitting yarn? How did one end up under a chair, behind a box of records? And where in the world did the one behind the sofa come from?

We looked at one another and shrugged. Bowling balls are cool. And if they look like they're supposed to be a part of the scenery, then no one will be the wiser. So we dusted them off and tucked them in, and now they're here to stay. And when one of our guests exclaimed, "That is so neat! I'd never think to collect old bowling balls," we just smiled and poured the lemonade.

The moral of this story is: If you clean your house, you get presents!

Junk Love: We're Hooked

This may seem like a weird obsession, but when you live in a house as small as ours, you really have to think about maximum space usage. In the Blackbird abode, this is especially true for wall space. So, when you find that you have so much junk on the walls that you can only see your wall color in three-inch splashes (oh, hear the beating of my heart!), really the only thing for you to do is...put a hook on it. Let no inch go to waste--and then you can hang something else on your wall!

What can you hang on your wall hook? Anything you want! Vintage necklaces. Neckties. A silk robe. A fedora. Or, go practical and hang your hammer there. It doesn't matter, as long as the hook you hang it on is also cute. That way, when you decide to wear your hat or use your hammer, the wall still looks good.

So here is a collection of wall hooks from Etsy that will make you long to be practical (because it is extremely practical to hang stuff floor-to-ceiling on every wall of your house). You could go with animals:

Available here

Available here

Or fun color:

Available here

French daisy hook;sold on Etsy

Balls!

Osvaldo Borsani Tecno coat hook;sold on Etsy

Available here

Industrial:

Fowl/game hooks;Available here

Available here

Or streamlined:

Available here

Available here

Whatever you do, it'll look great!

Junk Love: Welcome Back!

So, you may have noticed that the Blackbird girls took a break for a while. We had a good excuse--promise! It all started back in February, and it is because of Liam Neeson. This will make sense eventually.

I was supposed to go to a movie with my mother. We had our date, time, and restaurant nailed down, so all we had left to do was agree on which movie to see. The problem was that there was no movie in theatres that either of us cared about in the slightest. But...Non-Stop was due out the following weekend, and neither of us can resist a Liam Neeson movie. So, we rescheduled. That is why I was at home at 2pm on a Sunday for the first time in months (I am a 7-day a week workaholic), and even more importantly, why I was bored.

When one is crushed by the weight of boredom, there are several potential cures: television, a good book, trolling the Internet for good junk, or actually leaving the house to go junk shopping. I decided to go with Option 3, and thereby ended up on the eighth wonder of the world: Craigslist, that magical artificial universe of junk, both good and bad. And, occasionally a place to find real estate.

We Blackbirds have dreamed of opening a store since day one, and I am the one who likes to torment us both by looking at commercial real estate online about once a month. We inevitably fall in love with a place that is geographically and financially impossible, and then we end up depressed and elbow-deep in pizza. So, on this particular Sunday at this particular time, because I am a masochist, I clicked on Real Estate. The very top listing was for a 1300 square foot shop in a nearby town for a ridiculously low monthly rent. I immediately called the other Blackbird, who ordered me to instantly-right-this-minute-why-are-you-wasting-time call the number on the ad. Two hours later, we were sitting in the car on a deserted street waiting to meet a strange man that we had met via Craigslist. And while we waited, we fell in love with our building.

It was old, with blue paint peeling down in huge strips. The dark windows looked sad, and the door was painted a psychedelic lime green. But we loved it, and as long as it didn't have a giant hole in the ceiling and snakes writhing on the floor, we were going to have it. The very next day, the lease was signed, we had keys in hand, and suddenly we realized that we had less than two months to be up and running in time for the local antiques festival (a perfect weekend to open a vintage shop, right?). This is when the blog died. It is also when we stopped sleeping regularly, speaking to our families, or eating vegetables.

 

After a lot of paint, a couple of new ballasts, and every possible Money Pit moment that you could imagine, we managed to get to what I would now lovingly refer to as Hell Week, during which we went to work, went to the shop, stayed up all night, went to work, went to the shop, stayed up all night, and pretty much survived on pizza and Snickers bars in order to get everything cleaned, priced, and placed for opening day. But we made it, and the shop has been buzzing like a little baby bee for two months now.

Now that I have blown the dust and cobwebs off of my laptop, it is time to get back to our regular blog schedule. I will try my best to get back into the habit, especially since I just noticed that we managed to get 4000 page views when we were not blogging. Check back if you can, or better yet, if you're in North Carolina, stop by the shop and say hello!

Blackbird Vintage
122 W. Swannanoa Ave.
Liberty, NC 27298
336-622-4775