On the Radar -- Brass Off

Elle Decor

I can't stand brass.  Well, I can't stand that super shiny, super yellow-y gold brass that's cheaply made.  It's just gross and fake and really, really tacky.  And I used to hold it against all brass that it had that tacky, low-class cousin. 

But as I've fallen deeper into my love affair with junk, I have developed a deep and abiding passion for old, worn, patina-ed brass.  Brass that is heavy and smooth.  Brass that has been transformed by years of wear and love.

And by worn I don't mean pits and spots and rust like that cheap brass gets.  What I'm talking about is PATINA.  Serious patina.

This kind of patina:

Penn Station, NYC

We've noticed the brass sales rising at the antique mall, and several magazines have talked about the re-emerging trend.  But let me get to the point.  When I saw that brass is back, I just wanted to lay it down for all our readers.   

Not all brass is good brass.

Here's a quick guide to some brass we love.  Of course, buy what you love.  All I can ask is that you look at the dull, sweet shine of this brass and think before you buy the cheap stuff.

From here.

From Jonathan Adler, here.

Mid Century Chair, here.

Vintage doorknob, from Counter Clock Wise Antiques, here.

Vintage Brass Numbers, from Vintage Spectacles, here.

Bonus -- Down on the Farm

When it's time to redo the window at Collector's Antique Mall, there are times that it's really easy.  We know what we want to do, and we do it.  Then there are times like this window, where we have meticulously planned a certain theme for weeks, only to change it right before we do the window.  You know, like the day we do it.

This was the fifth idea we had for this window.  But it stuck with us (and instantly felt right when we came up with it), because it is near and dear to us.  Summertime in North Carolina is a wonderful thing.  Yes, it's hot.  But we're generously rewarded with nature's bounty -- Candor peaches, tomato sandwiches, and watermelon slices with lots of salt.

Not to mention the homemade ice cream.  And cold Cheerwines.

I was fortunate enough to grow up with a grandfather who was a North Carolina tobacco farmer.  I don't remember the tobacco -- that was before my time.  But I do remember the hot summer mornings spent on the farm in Biscoe, gathering what vegetables we could from his array of crops, and then selling them to locals in the shady front yard in the afternoon.

 

Now, I don't know how much work I actually did.  I'd like to think it was more than it probably was.  But I'm pretty sure I played at working.  

There are four things that stick out in my memory the most from those summers -- 

1.  The mid-morning snack.  My granny and I would leave the field and drive to Nash's Store in Candor to pick up various goodies for everyone.  I remember the RC colas and the Moon Pies, but I was strictly a Nabs kind of girl.  With a Pepsi or a Cheerwine, of course. 

 2.  The farm itself.  Never was there a better wonderland for children to amuse themselves.  We were reckless and fearless, and children today would not be allowed to do what we did.  Climbing to the top of the silo and jumping into the corn.  Running from side to side on the big tobacco carts to make them see-saw.  Riding (and crashing) the three-wheeler.  Fishing in the ponds.  Making fairy houses in tree roots with rocks and leaves.  Tramping through the woods looking for adventure.

3.  Lunch. No food on this planet tastes as good as home-cooked country food made by your granny after you've worn yourself out (whether you've done it through actually picking veggies or by playing).  Her biscuits were legendary.  But if you add a fresh tomato slice, cut from one picked that morning?  Heaven.  Then you can always finish with one of my favorite things -- peanut butter and Karo syrup stirred together.  My mama eats it with biscuits, but I can eat it with a spoon.  Holy crap, that's good!

4.  Family.  I have a large family, with lots of cousins.  And we've always been close.  I remember seeing them almost every day during the summer.  Joking and laughing, playing and fighting.  Eating and working.  My best friends were my cousins.  I was the youngest at this time (not for very long, though), and they were my role models and my protectors.  Yeah, and my enemies at times.  But whether we were getting into trouble or playing Boogeyman or Hide and Seek --  we knew we had each other.  We all knew that we were loved and supported and safe.  We were allowed to explore with no boundaries.  And I'd like to think that because of that, we were each able to find ourselves.  That those experiences from our childhood spent together, have shaped who we are today.  That the principles we learned through that love and work and play, still influence the decisions we make in our lives now.

So I'd like to dedicate this window to my Papa Cecil and Granny Frances.  For teaching me the value of hard work and love.  

Junk Love Monday: Love is Red, White, & Blue

I have always been drawn to red, white, and blue. I just love the combination. In fact, I have a collection of scarves in this patriotic scheme. Their place of honor is on my (navy) bedroom wall, draped on a wall-mounted coat rack. They make a beautiful cascade of different patterns and shades.

So, in honor of the 4th, and as tribute to my many scarves, I decided to search Etsy for other adorable items that pay tribute to the good old flag. Say, if I got a time  machine, and then I got an invitation to a cook-out in the 1940s, maybe I would need a cute dress:

vintagecurve

And with such a cute dress, perhaps I would need a brooch to accessorize:

TheBackShak

Or, if I thought I might need to know what time it is:

hensnest10

But, having a watch might remind me that I have a time machine, and that I could pop in on a party in the 1950s. If so, a change of wardrobe would be necessary:

LeMollusque

With these shoes:

vintagerunway

Properly accessorized, of course:

QuiltsETC

But, I wouldn't be able to stay very long, because I'd be on the way to a 1960s shindig. With, perhaps, a pool? July is so very hot, you know. I'd probably start with this (modesty is a virtue, or something--really, it's so fabulous, I'd wear it in the desert if I had to):

RanchQueenVintage

But, eventually I'd get hot, so I'd have to change into something a little breezier:

MissSunnyDayz

Properly accessorized, of course:

TabbysVintageShop

Until it was time for swimming, in two acts:

FearlessVintage

rudysroundup

All that swimming would probably make me hungry, but I would have to wait at least 30 minutes to eat, so I might as well use that time to skip to the 70s and see what's up. Again, a wardrobe change would be necessary. It's time to salute my shorts:

DorisVintage

Did I mention that it's a skating party?

cupolavintage

Whew! All this partying has done me in. And made me want to wear all of my red, white, & blue scarves (at the same time!). Now, you should get ready for your own festivities. Might I suggest starting with something from our shop?

BlackbirdAntiquesNC

The Skinny: Stig Lindberg

Stig Lindberg

Stig Lindberg was a well-known Swedish designer, particularly during the 1950s and 1960s.  After studying painting, he accepted a position with the Gustavsberg pottery studio as a faience artist. In 1949, Lindberg was appointed art director of the company. This allowed him the freedom to experiment with a variety of media, including sculpture, stoneware, tiles, furniture, plastics, and ceramics. He worked with enamels in several ways, even spending time in the studio's bathtub department. Lindberg even did a bit of glass design for the Maleras company. He later opened his own studio in Italy.

We were introduced to Stig when we bought a couple of cute fish dishes. We had no idea who the maker was. We just knew that we liked them. Apparently, someone else does, too, because they sold less than two hours after we listed them. 

Sold!

It was a bittersweet moment, because we love sending junk to good homes, but our romance with the fish was far too short. So, we decided to live vicariously by learning about the designer and his other fabulous pieces.





In addition to housewares, Stig collaborated with Astrid Sampe on a textile collection. Several of these fabrics have been reissued, and are available in upholstery weight for furniture.

Lustgarden (Garden of Eden) fabric, flickr.com

Pottery fabric, Here

He designed a television for the Luma company. It. Is. Cool.

What rhymes with Lindberg? Not sure. But he illustrated Swedish books of rhymes for children, written by Lennart Hellsing. They are adorable!

And, here is our wish list:

Stig Lindberg enamel and wood table, deconet.com

Stig Lindberg "Medusa", deconet.com

Stig Lindberg bull tile; deconet.com

Stig Lindberg plate, Here

Stig Lindberg fat horse!, Here

Stig Lindberg Scottie dog, Etsy

Stig Lindberg vase

Stig Lindberg onion vase, Here

*Information obtained from http://www.scandinaviandesign.com/nationalmuseum/0605/

On the Radar -- The Mighty...Acorn?

By now I shouldn't have to remind you -- we love Alexander McQueen.  So in looking at his Pre-Fall 2013 collection, we both fell in love with this particular necklace:

Very simple.  A gold acorn on a long chain.  Classic, easy to wear.  $560.

Yeah.  I'll start saving for that while I look around Etsy.

So, here's the first two...we'll say McQueen inspired...necklaces I found:

Available here from Gwen Delicious on Etsy.

Available here from Pinking Edge Designs on Etsy.

And then I thought, "Are there more acorn things out there right now?"  And the answer -- well take a look:

Yoko Ono's new art book

Acorn Pendant Lights from Maija Puoskari, Milan Design Week 2013

Even fonts can be inspired by acorns!

The answer would be yes, then.  There is something nutty going around.  Ah, the mighty acorn...

Junk Love Monday: Falling Off The Wagon

Ever since we were forced to downsize our studio space, which resulted in a mountainous obstacle course of boxes, totes, and piles of junk at the new place, the Blackbird girls have been trying not to buy new junk. We really need to finish sorting and organizing the stuff that we already have. Whenever something actually sells on Etsy, we spend an hour or so unstacking and digging through totes trying to find it so that we can pack and ship it. This may also involve me crawling beneath or between furniture, getting my hair caught on something in the dark depths, spending five minutes untangling myself, and then having the other Blackbird pull me out by my ankles. Then we end up finding the item wrapped in a shirt that was stuffed into an ice bucket "to keep it safe." So, an unofficial moratorium has been in place on the junk buying.

We've both been feeling it. Withdrawal. The depression. The fatigue. The irritability. This certainly isn't helped by working in an antique store. But we've been pretty good. Until last Thursday.

I ran errands while she was doing shop maintenance on Etsy. I came back, trying to shrug off a bad mood, trying even harder to figure out something to keep me busy for the rest of the day. Two minutes after I walked in the door, she looked at me and said, "Can we go to a thrift store? Please? I think I'm going crazy." I said yes and promptly went back to the car, feeling lighter than I had in days (possibly weeks).

We were just going to the Salvation Army. It's close by, and has great potential for a 49 cent treasure. We started the usual route, and somewhere between the Murder She Wrote board game and the vintage chair and ottoman, we both fell off the wagon. Hard.

As we wrestled the chair into the car, she said, "I feel better. We can go home now, if you want." But, I could tell she didn't mean it. So, I suggested that it would make sense to swing by the Goodwill on the way home. It isn't actually on the way, directionally speaking, but with traffic and all, it made better sense to turn right and drive a mile and a half so that we could turn around in the Goodwill parking lot in order to go home. (It makes sense!)

It would have ended there, if not for the 1960s Pendleton and the silver shoes, both found during our last scan on the way to the register. If not for those, we would have gone home. But when I saw those silver shoes, my heart started pounding. The blood rushed in my ears. Endorphins flooded my system, and I felt good. And so, on the way home, we drove fifteen miles to another town in order to browse another Goodwill. And the buzz continued....

All stores close eventually, so we had to actually go home after that. And we were both in really good moods. The next day, I had an appointment in another city, and casually asked if she wanted to ride with me. You know. To keep me company (because who doesn't like to sit in the car while somebody is conducting other business for an hour?). It is total coincidence that my appointment was fifteen seconds from a Goodwill. Total coincidence. And then, because we had already used the gas to get there, we just had to make the rounds to (*ahem) four more thrift stores.

But who could blame us? We found Veras! Vintage clothes! Linens! A lamp! You can't leave that stuff behind, and you never know what's lurking on that bottom shelf in the next dim thrift store (and thrift stores are getting dimmer and dimmer these days). I feel a rush just thinking about it. My bank account, on the other hand, has taken a hit. And, we have to figure out where to put it all. Maybe in that ice bucket we just recently cleaned out....

The Skinny -- Drinky Time with the Cocktail Collection

The cocktail collection is officially closed.  Well, supposedly.  She says it is; I keep buying things.  And she keeps buying things, too.

Just like it's her fault I now own this book.  She's the Blackbird that found this amazing little blue book on its shelf in the Salvation Army this week.  Of course I had to buy it.  Duh.

From 1951, The Bartender's Book, written by Jack Townsend and Tom Moore McBride, is a quintessential guide to the best of the best in the world of cocktails.  It's so witty and of the time, that I'm reading it like a novel.  And parts of it are laugh-out-loud funny.

These guys really got into the mind of the American drinker -- from typecasting bar customers to the watering down of classic cocktails through bluster and ignorance.  They also dip into the history of cocktails and their components.

I was slightly miffed that there is no Vodka section -- since I'm personally a vodka drinker.  They focus on gin, rum, whiskey, brandy, applejack, and scotch drinks.  But, really, there's not that many recipes in here overall.  Townsend and McBride liked good, solid, classic cocktails.  They included a list of the top 40 drinks served in 1950, with the survey information provided by the New York Bartender's Union.  The top five were:

1. Manhattan
2. Martini
3. Daiquiri
4. Whiskey Sour
5. Old-Fashioned 

And they didn't believe in all those fancy-schmancy themed cocktails.  There's a section where they harpoon the customers that want them -- called Freak Drinks.  Which oddly enough, contains a drink that has since become a classic cocktail, the Bloody Mary.  Seems it was just a trendy drink when the book was written.

Here's the most jaw-dropping concoction I saw in the Freak Drinks section.  I say to this recipe -- "I will never drink you, because you would kick my ass!"  (You may know about a Zombie -- bear with me, I'm not a rum drinker and have never heard its contents before.)

Zombie
1 oz. amber rum
1 oz. silver rum
1 oz. Jamaica rum
1/2 oz. cherry brandy
1/2 oz. apricot brandy
juice of half lime
1 dash papaya juice
1/2 oz. 150-proof Jamaica rum

Fill a 14 oz Zombie glass half full of finely cracked ice.  Put in the ingredients and stir.  Top with the 150-proof Jamaica rum.  Decorate with a sprig of mint.  Serve with straws.


 

Here's the recipe for their number 1 cocktail, the Manhattan. Thought you might like to know if you're making it right...


Manhattan
2/3 rye
1/3 Italian vermouth
dash of Angostura bitters

Stir with ice.  Decorate with maraschino cherry.

Sounds simple enough!

Cheers!!

(Now where's the vodka...)