Junk Love: Drumroll, Please

We've been doing this blog for a year, and we always face a dilemma when it comes to choosing which of our own collections is ready to be debuted on Junk Love. Sometimes, it's because we don't think our collection is big enough yet. Sometimes, we have a crossover crisis (should the tray collection be its own post, or should it be a part of a cocktail post, or should that one tray be in an Asian post, and that Peter Max tray be in the Peter Max post????). Sometimes, a collection is just really, really big. The cocktail collection is one of the biggies, and we've started breaking it down to manageable little posts. The other biggie: pinups.

I honestly have no idea how many pinups I have. I have struggled for a year with how exactly to break this collection down. Girls with dogs? Girls with skirts blowing up? Blondes vs. brunettes vs. gingers? Airport girls? Military girls? Girls in lingerie?

After lengthy discussion, we're still not sure about it. But, because sometimes it's fun to take the easy way out first, and worry about the hard stuff later, we decided that the first batch of pinups in this blog feature will all be advertising blotters. Enjoy (and I dare you to not love them)!

I specialize in Elvgren, so 98% of the collection is a great big party of Elvgren girls. Naturally, my blotters fall into this category, although there is one delightful exception: the Zoe Mozert parachutist on top.

The Skinny -- Doris and Romance

It's time for another classic movie lesson, kids!  I'm still griping about the other Blackbird leaving me for two whole weeks to traipse through Ireland.  While she was gone, I had to entertain myself, and what better way to do that than to watch movies on Turner Classic.  Music, fashion, and movie romance can comfort like nothing else can.

August is TCM's Summer Under the Stars Month, and the second day of the month -- right smack dab in the middle of her trip -- was Doris day.  That is, Doris Day day.  Hmmm, I thought.  This will make me feel better...

Now, we Blackbirds have some very particular inside jokes with this movie that I cannot divulge, but just know that Doris' spunky, slang-y, nightclub singin' character is one of our faves.  Plus, the clothing is just divine!  Like this beaded bow adorned dress:

Doris plays Georgia Garrett, a nightclub singer that plans lavish vacations she can't afford.  She meets high society lady Elvira Kent at the travel agency, and their passport photos get mixed up.  Elvira is certain that her husband is cheating on her, so she hires Georgia to take her trip in her place when she returns the photo.  Meanwhile, Mr. Kent hires a private detective to follow Elvira on her trip -- because he thinks she's cheating!  Of course, Georgia falls for the detective, and the romantic mix-ups begin. 

This was Doris' first movie role, and she got the part only after Judy Garland turned it down and Betty Hutton found out she was pregnant.  She was 23, and was known as a vocalist and band singer.  The role catapulted her into stardom, and earned an Academy Award nomination for her ballad, "It's Magic."  The song became a huge hit, and sold over a million copies.

The fashion is incredible.  Georgia got to travel with Elvira's wardrobe to make it believable, and I am envious!  Gowns, jewelry, accessories...it's a visual feast.  The costumes were designed by Milo Anderson.  Amazing!

Here's a clip of "It's Magic" for your enjoyment! 

And this is for the other Blackbird...

On the Radar -- A Red Handbag

Things have been pretty hectic around the Blackbird World Headquarters lately.  As you learned in the Junk Love post for this week, the other Blackbird deserted me to travel across the ocean and have all kinds of adventures in Ireland.  It was a really boring, long, sad two weeks while she was gone, but I was productive!  Well, I was for the first week.  The second week -- not so much.  All I can say is that I am thankful for my Netflix subscription, and I now have a new appreciation for Gossip Girl. 

(In my defense, I had to watch something.  I tried Antiques Roadshow, but believe me, that just made it worse.)

But since she got back home, we have been junk shopping like mad.  (Boy, have we been finding some really good stuff!)  I've been listing our new finds left and right in the Etsy shop.  We're both getting ready to start teaching again -- she's really the teacher, I just have one class.  And the blog has been suffering.  You know, for example, a Radar post on Friday...

Anyway, in the middle of all this, we sold this bag on Etsy:

It's a super sweet frame handbag by Dover, and it has a lovely new home in Texas.  However, while I was bringing this bag from our storage studio to the house, I got several offers from people wanting to purchase it.  When I told them it was sold, they asked, "Do you have any more?"

Oooooookaaaaayyyyy....What's that about?  And then I checked the stats on Etsy.  This bag's views spiked last Saturday.  A major spike.

And then I remembered what one lady who wanted to buy this bag said -- she said, "I'm all about a red bag right now."  So I looked it up, and lo and behold!  EVERYBODY'S about a red bag this fall!

I feel like I am so behind the curve!  But maybe it's because I'm ALWAYS about a red bag.  Red is my favorite color, and if given the choice, I will always pick it.

So here's my roundup of designer bags to drool over.  Look at these, and then just go to Etsy or your local antique store and buy a vintage one.  I mean, ours was only $18.  That's a steal!

Roberto Cavalli, Fall 2013

Marchesa clutches, Fall 2013

Dolce and Gabbana, Fall 2013

All Valentino, Fall 2013

Alexander McQueen, Fall 2013

Junk Love: Gotta Get a Fix

I recently traveled to Ireland (sadly, without the other Blackbird). It is beautiful, despite the fact that they have been experiencing a "heat wave" resulting in days that were 78 degrees and breezy, with alternating hours of bright sunshine and melancholy mist. How did I even survive????

It was tougher than you would think. The trip didn't start out on the best note. I had to work a half day, and before I even changed into my comfiest pair of pants, learned that my travel companion (who shall remain nameless) did not have my plane ticket. So, we had to rush to the airport, wait in line, argue my way into a new ticket, and then...our flight was delayed.

Several hours later, we were running in the dead of night trying to make our next flight, which was on the complete opposite side of the airport. We made it, barely...

Only to discover upon landing that the airline lost our luggage. And we had to wait for a bus--not a tour bus, but a city bus--to drive us almost two hours to our hotel. Where our room wasn't ready. And our tour guide grabbed us as soon as we walked in the door to go on our first group excursion out in the city, wearing yesterday's clothes and a day and a half of travel grime. I thought we had reached rock bottom, until the next morning when I discovered that our hotel did not have complimentary conditioner. So, on the second day, I got to walk the city with a ginormous frizz-bomb, frightening store clerks, waitresses, and small children the whole way.

I was feeling a little desperate, a little jittery, and really (REALLY) cranky. I knew what I needed, and I kept a sharp lookout for it--that glorious word...ANTIQUES. The second I walked inside, calmness descended upon me like a cozy blanket. I was with junk, and it was all going to be okay.

I didn't buy anything, but it was interesting to see all of the stuff--things that I've never seen here. If you ever need a Victorian earwax picker, or maybe a carved cigarette holder holder (yes, a holder for a cigarette holder), then I know where to send you.

Back on the street, I was now a cheerful frizz-bomb, and possibly scarier because of it. I stopped for a delicious lunch at a street cafe, where I had a religious experience with warm goat cheese, and then window-shopped my way in the general direction of the tour bus. But, something was nagging me. There was a little buzzing in my ear. I felt a magnetic tug. And, instead of going straight toward the waiting bus, I suddenly turned down a side street, and then again onto an even narrower street. I had twenty minutes until the bus was going to leave me, but I just knew--and then, at the very end of the street, I saw the words Vintage Clothing painted on a window.

Inside, I was a maniac. I knew I was almost out of time. But even if it meant walking the ten miles back to the hotel, I was going to buy something in this store. I dug through drawers of scarves. I creeped out a cute guy who was trying on blazers with a sense of purpose (my hair seriously gave new meaning to a bad hair day). And then I found a rack with my very favorite word hanging above it: SALE.

I had five minutes to pull 5 vintage dresses, all marked down to 5 euro a piece, throw them at the clerk, shove a wad of money at her, and then book it to the bus (with a necessary stop at Butler's Chocolate Cafe on the way). By the time I got back to the hotel, I was in a whole new frame of mind, riding the junk buzz and sipping my delicious dark hot chocolate. This trip was going to be great!

And then I spent twelve days--TWELVE DAYS--without seeing another junk shop. I thought I was going to die. It wasn't until our second day in Dublin that I found salvation (in a church, no less). The tour guide was lecturing about regimental flags in St. Patrick's Cathedral, and I picked up a free map of the city, unfolded it, and saw the most beautiful words: ANTIQUES DISTRICT. My breath came quicker. I knew what I had to do.

So, when it was time for the group to move on to the next stop, I pulled the guide aside and informed her that I was leaving. And I took my new map and walked happily out the door, all by my lonesome.

Sadly, the antiques district has fallen on hard times. A lot of the shops were no longer in business, and it was a holiday weekend, so others had closed early. But, I went into the rest anyway. It was not my district, wallet-wise, but still nice to see so many exotic woods, Clarice Cliff, fine Victorian pieces, and more mahogany than I knew existed in the world. I felt better, but still incomplete.

So, I walked over to the Temple Bar district, a funky, artsy collection of shops, bars, and street performers. They were having a flea market, and I stopped at a table of books. There wasn't anything I needed, until I saw the binoculars. It was love at first sight, despite the fact that there is a tiny crack in the end of one eyepiece. Even better, the price tag said 15 euro. Just to be sure, I used them to watch people for a minute or so (my rule is to only buy the ones that are usable for spying).

I told the man that I'd like to buy them. He didn't seem on board with my idea for some reason.

Me: I'd like to buy these, please.
Him: (frowning) But they're damaged.
Me: I know. But I want to buy them.
Him: But they're damaged. And they're 15 euro.
Me: I know. I want them.
Him: (talking slowly, as if I'm mentally handicapped) But they are damaged.
Me: Here's 15 euro.
Him: No, you don't need these. They're damaged. And they're 15 euro. For damaged ones.
Me: Take the money and walk away, old man, BECAUSE I NEED THESE FRIGGIN' BINOCULARS!

Well, the last bit happened only in my head. I basically threw my 15 euro at him and walked away really fast with the binoculars cradled to my chest.

And it felt so good. The buzz was back. I had another lovely meal, went back to the hotel, and spent the next half hour looking at all the stuff in my hotel room (and out the window) that I could see with my new binoculars.

Once again, I had my fix. It is probably the only thing that kept me from committing murder as we traveled home--you know, customs, missing ticket (this time my travel companion didn't have one), and the airline losing our luggage AGAIN. Still, after I got home, and air-hugged my house, and slept in my very own bed, what was the first thing I wanted to do? Goodwill.

After all, a girl needs junk on a regular basis to feel human. Right?

The Skinny: Lucky Star

In-house fashion models, known as "mannequins," became popular in the mid-1800s house of Charles Frederick Worth, but it wasn't until the 1940s that the mannequins started gaining reputations of their own. One of the most famous of these ladies was Lucie Daouphars, later famously nicknamed "Lucky."

She started out poor, a miserable, married teenager with a baby. Her husband left, and she went to work in a metal factory as a solderer. That could have been her life--a single mother, struggling in a factory job in a war-torn country. But, the fashion world offered a nugget of hope. Agnes Drecoll was in desperate need of a short-term mannequin, and Lucie was everything she could have hoped for. As someone who is gorgeous, ambitious, and who walks like a goddess, she gained fame and a type of freedom that most mannequins had never known before: the ability to freelance for different brands as her own reputation grew. Lucie worked her way up the Mt. Olympus of French fashion, from Hermes, to Jacques Fath, to Zeus himself--Christian Dior.

Lucky became Dior's muse. He once said "that to design a dress on Lucky was to be granted a constant source of inspiration." As he preferred to design clothing by draping fabric on live models, we can only imagine how many iconic Dior looks started out in a brainstorming session with Lucky. Le sigh....

Lucky and Dior; Here

She eventually quit modeling to start a rights group for other women in the mannequin profession. Sadly, she was diagnosed with a rapid-growing cancer in her early 40s. The pain kept her in bed most of the time, but she insisted on dressing and attending her birthday party. She died two days later.

The funeral was quite an event. It took place at the Church of St. Pierre de Chaillot in Paris, the same church that had hosted Dior's and Fath's funerals previously. The guests included dozens of models, seamstresses, and fashion delivery girls, as well as the bankers (and their wives)--the trendsetters of Paris fashion. Lucky was dressed in a red satin evening gown, embellished with jet and pearls, that Dior made for her as a parting gift when she resigned. It was a melancholy day, perhaps made more so for those who remembered the closing line from Lucky's book: "Fashion moves us because it dies so young."

*Information obtained from: http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=888&dat=19630723&id=BRUmAAAAIBAJ&sjid=d1IDAAAAIBAJ&pg=7061,1648724

On the Radar -- This post is for the dogs...

We've been talking about dogs a lot lately.  We did the Doxie Love post, as well as the 101 Dalmatians post.  And today, when looking around for ideas for this post, I found out that it's not just us.  Seems everybody is dog crazy right now.  The above portraits are by artist Lisa Bengtsson, and are available here.

Of course, I'm partial to dachshunds, but I love all kinds of dogs.  And I'm really in love with my doggie finds!  What do you think?

Madison Humphrey Dog Flock Wallpaper, here.

Pillow from Naked Decor on Etsy, here.

Lady and Two Dogs print from Crate and Barrel, here.

From Quatre Fleurs on Etsy, here.

Print by Janet Hill on Etsy, here.

Junk Love Monday: Mermaids!

You know you secretly want to be one. Admit it. They get to swim, and have pretty hair, and have all sorts of pearly accessories. Occasionally, they read Vogue in a secret grotto, like Glynis Johns in Miranda (1948).

But, alas, mermaidishness is not possible for most of us, so we have to be content with owning mermaid-y stuffs.

Vintage mermaid decal; Etsy

Sometimes, they are on fabric. However, the interpretation may differ:

Vintage Little Mermaid cocktail napkin; Etsy

Vintage Swiss Air handkerchief; Etsy

I can't help it. That second one makes me laugh. Really, really hard. And yet, if I found that in a thrift store, it would definitely go home with me.

Of course, you could have mermaid accessories.

Vintage Hattie Carnegie brooch; Etsy

 I've seen plenty of Siam pieces, but never a blue and green Siamese MERMAID!!!!

Etsy

 And this Soviet piece is pretty sweet:

Vintage mermaid pin; Etsy

I would definitely have a cup of cocoa in this cool cup:

Little Mermaid cup and saucer; Etsy

Perhaps with some plates of cookies on this fab set of mermaid placemats:

Vintage Arnold Designs placemats, Etsy.

And sardines are gross, but mermaid sardines are awesome!

1940s Mermaid sardine tin; Etsy