Thrifting's Revival

Several years ago, I owned an antique store in the Chicagoland area. Over time, I moved to about five different locations with my final stop being in Peoria, Illinois. In the end I’d grown tired of moving merchandise in addition to the difficulty and expense I found in maintaining fresh inventory to sell. While I lived in the suburbs of Chicago, Peoria was an ideal place due to proximity and because it allowed me to visit my daughter while updating/working the shop. She attended university there. 

I have always loved antique, vintage and old. Antique stores and estate sales were usually always part of our weekends. As I mentioned in some of my other blog posts, part of the beauty and quality of the pieces included knowing the history and imagining the lives of the previous owners. It seemed a natural progression to simply open a shop. 

The idea of this blog post originated due to discovering a younger generation’s interest in thrifting. Of course, when you watch one reel on social media of a thrifter’s “find” you’re then inundated with endless reels of the same or related content. Watching them can be addictive if you aren’t careful, but I’m so happy to see young adults rediscovering beautiful pieces and bringing them into their lives; in addition, they are being very creative in repurposing some of those items. I applaud their cleverness. And thrifting isn’t necessarily antiquing, but the line gets a little blurry when stores, auctions, and estate sales carry/sell much of the same merchandise. Timeframes and eras don’t necessarily matter in defining a type of store or how someone collects anymore. 

Over the years, I came across some odd and very unique kinds of items in addition to the “normal” things one sees in antique stores. One such piece was a wrought iron plant stand that measured about seven to eight feet in height with the top curved into what looked like a bird cage. There were about four “arms” curving out from it which would hold plants in addition to the base. To add to the oddness of the find, I purchased it at an estate sale being held at a monastery. Because of its size, it was a challenge to get home. But it was so beautiful once cleaned, and it was certainly the center of attention in my shop. I envisioned how lovely it would look in the solarium or conservatory of an estate somewhere; eventually, it sold but it took a while. It was something I wish I’d been able to keep but had no room or place for it. 

Other unusual things I encountered over the years while buying inventory: a wooden coffin with lid/cover (c.19th century) being used as a storage chest in a home (DID NOT buy that one); creepy dolls that give you nightmares; skull mounts and taxidermy—in memory of someone’s pets…didn’t buy any of those either. I generally passed on more than I purchased, so it goes without saying I attended a lot of sales. But the best things were often hidden or unassuming, many of which came in box lots. 

Which brings me to the photograph I’ve included in this post. I obtained it in one of those “lots” and I’ve a full container of these old photos with some dating back to around 1800 (maybe earlier). Given the description accompanying the image, it’s one of the odd finds and discoveries, which I purchased at an estate sale in Batavia, Illinois. 

The photograph measures about 8 x 9.5 inches and is mounted on stiff cardboard; these were known as cabinet cards. I can find no information on the historical photographer named A. Lund, but that’s not unusual. There is also no date, but given the style of clothing and hairstyles of the women, I’d guess it was taken anywhere from the 1880s to 1900, plus cabinet cards originated around 1860. The description of the photograph is:

“This picture was taken at a shower for Emma Anderson Swanson. A mock wedding was held. Most of the women are employees of Bellevue.” Then it proceeds to list most of the names of those in the photograph. 

The history of Bellevue. Bellevue Institute was a private school in Batavia, Illinois that was chartered in 1853. In 1867, it was purchased by Dr. Richard J Patterson and the institute was renamed Bellevue Place, a private sanitarium for women. Its most notable resident was President Abraham Lincoln’s widow, Mary Todd Lincoln, who was a patient living there from May to September of 1875. It is listed on the National Register of Historic Places; the building was eventually converted to apartments. 

My first antique shop was located in Batavia and I regularly drove by this building. Looking at the photograph and based on the description that came with it, I wonder about the unnamed women and the ones who were not employed at Bellevue. Were they patients? Why a shower? Why a mock wedding? Given the possible timeframe, could any of them have encountered Mary Todd Lincoln? Ironically, the Emma Anderson Swanson mentioned isn’t listed as the “bride” in the photo. The woman in the top hat is an unknown (no name was given), but it gives shades of Abraham Lincoln in my opinion. I suppose I’ll continue trying to find information regarding the names of some of the women, but so far I haven’t been successful. I would so love to know their history. That’s what antiques do to me. 

Yes, I’m happy the “old” is being discovered again. I’ve also fallen down the rabbit hole of reels where this same generation is discovering my generation of music…watching them listen for the first time to a song of my youth, and like it, is pure joy. 

Happiness. 

 

Hai Karate - Be Careful How You Use It

I grew up during the 1960s and 1970s then attended college in the early 1980s.   Those years were three significantly different decades of historical events, change, rebellion, peace, love, big hair, spandex and bell bottoms.  The eras defined the music and the clothes, the toys, candy and, of course, the commercials.  Thanks to YouTube, antique stores, TV Land, and catalogs from places selling some of the same products from that time, we’re able to relive a little of our childhoods.  The vintage kitsch makes us nostalgic.

For some reason, I receive a mail-order catalog from The Vermont Country Store.  I don’t think I’ve ever ordered anything from them but I do get a kick out of some of the things they sell.  Does anyone remember the aftershave called Hai Karate from the 1960s and 70s?  They sell it.  YouTube triggered my memories of the commercials, too.  Campy and silly with a martial arts theme, each one ended with the slogan, “Be Careful How You Use It”.  It reminded me of the Batman and Dark Shadows television series.

After viewing those ads on YouTube, I then spent about twenty minutes watching a compilation of 60s and 70s commercial clips.  I remembered all but two or three of them.  Some of the catchphrases that brought an “Oh, yeah” from me:  “Sometimes You Feel Like a Nut”, “I Can’t Believe I Ate the Whole Thing”,  “Frito Bandito”, “How Many Licks Does It Take to Get to the Center…”,  “People Start Pollution…”, “Let Noxzema Cream Your Face” (Joe Namath & Farrah Fawcett); “It’s Not Nice to Fool Mother Nature”, “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing”,  “K-Tel Records”.  I could go on. 

Whenever I wander through antique stores, I always find something that reminds me of my youth.  I used to think that if toys from my childhood made it into a vintage store then I had to be getting old.  Now I just appreciate seeing the occasional Lite-Brite, ViewMaster, Etch A Sketch, Operation and Spirograph games.  Tip-it, Toss Across and Rock ’em Sock ’em Robots (my brother had this one)…I loved playing with all of them.  And I’m referring to the originals, as I know that updated and newer versions are still being sold today.  I guess kids know a good thing when they see it.

I associate many of the items in the Vermont Country Store catalog with my grandmother.  I remember butter mints and pecan divinities, peppermint puffs and peppermint straw candy as things she always had on hand.  My grandmother loved to drink TAB (until she discovered Diet Pepsi) and she wore White Shoulders perfume.  I learned about Dippity-Do at her house because my aunts used it; and I recall accidentally spraying myself with a bottle of Wind Song cologne and gagging over the smell.  Mosser glass, percolators and soft-bonnet hair dryers.  Clarks Teaberry Gum, princess phones and mood lipstick.  Wella Balsam, Breck Girl and Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific shampoos.  It’s amazing what a little vintage reminder will do to a person.

Finally, candy (at least the kind I ate and not the kind my grandmother had on hand).  Milk Duds and Sugar Daddy were two of my favorites from back then and it’s amazing that people of my generation have any teeth left.  Who can forget wax lips, bubblegum cigars and fake candy cigarettes (Camel and Lucky Strike come to mind)?  Perhaps not the best choices for youth back in the day, but those were the times.  And I still love Almond Joy and Goobers (yes, I do) but I rarely eat candy nowadays, so it’s a treat if I ever indulge.

I suppose I should give credit where credit is due for this blog post.  I’m always searching for things I can write about and share here.  A Facebook friend inadvertently triggered this one by expressing surprise when finding Prell shampoo at a local CVS Pharmacy.  That caused this little trip down memory lane.  It is appreciated. 

Estate Sales of the Future...Strip Before Entering

For many years, I've enjoyed attending estate sales.  When I owned an antiques business, a great deal of my merchandise came from these sales and from auctions.  Since I closed my business, I no longer spend weekends searching for treasures to resell, but I do occasionally attend a sale if I have time.  Sometimes it's just the thrill of the search for me and I do find things that are personal and I keep them for myself.  Mostly, I enjoy the history behind the items and sometimes the homes that I see.

It seems estate sales aren't what they used to be.  Attending one recently left me with little, if any, desire to step foot in another one.  Upon reaching the front entrance of the sale, potential customers were bombarded with signs that had been taped all over the screened porch.  The estate sale company listed so many "dos, don'ts and warnings" that I wondered if we'd be searched upon entering.  Close.

Entering wasn't easy.  Handbags weren't allowed inside.  All purses were to remain in your vehicle, the sign had read.  Grumbling, I made my way to the car, stashed my purse and went back to the house.  I sarcastically thought they wouldn't want me to leave my money in the car, now would they?  This better be worth it, I griped further.

Once given the "yea" to enter, I immediately had to remove my shoes.  This isn't unusual, but it's not a request I like.  The potential for stepping on something sharp (nails, needles, pins, thumbtacks, etc) that's fallen on the floor in these homes is great.  Add a little rust, and well, I'm sure no one would like that risk.  Plus, no one "attends" the shoes. There is always a great pile of footwear by the door and if someone leaving likes a particular pair of boots (that do not belong to said person), then who's to stop her/him from putting them on and walking out?  This is a likely problem.

After removing the shoes, it was on to the next "station".  A lady working for the estate sale company asked me to remove my jacket.  What?  "Too many small items in this house will tempt shoplifters," she said.  "I'm not a shoplifter," I replied.  "Well, jackets aren't allowed," came the response.  By this time I was getting pretty mouthy.  "Then if there are shoplifters, will you guarantee my leather jacket will be here when I return to get it?" I asked.  She wasn't amused but said it would be.  I couldn't stop myself but went further, "My jeans have pockets.  Should I remove them, too?"  The woman didn't find that amusing either.

Once past the layer of security, I continued to think that my efforts had better be worth it.  Surely, there must be true antiques or vintage items of value.  Even priceless, right?  Why else would they make us go through all of this?  Usually if there are small and valuable items for sale, those items are "held" behind a table or enclosure, manned by an employee, and available to view if asked.  But that might be too logical, and besides, I'd just entered "Fort Knox".  The search was on.

And the search was over just as I stepped into that first room.  I think I gasped, but I'm not sure because I eventually realized my mouth was gaping open...a little hard to do both, but I might've gasped first.  Looking around, I thought I'd entered a home that was on the verge of being featured in an episode of "Hoarders".  Not quite there, but close.  If there was anything of value, and that was doubtful, you had to dig to find it.  Lots of plastic, and opened packages of figurines (think California Raisin dudes and the like).  For the life of me, I was trying to figure out why a shoplifter would bother.  If anyone was going to steal anything, they'd be doing the estate sale company a favor.  I didn't see many purchases being made.

Thankfully, my jacket and shoes were as I left them, I didn't have to go through a "pat-down" before I left, and I complained all the way to the car (without buying anything).  Of all the experiences I'd been through attending these sales, this was probably the worst.

Surprisingly, they hadn't enforced the cash only rule, as many estate sale companies do now.  As a former business owner, I understand not wishing to pay credit card fees, but it's the nature of doing business in my opinion. As is the risk of dealing with shoplifters.  You just don't treat everyone as a potential thief.  Imagine the outrage if a national retailer, such as Macy's, made you shed your clothing before you were allowed in their store, simply because you "might be tempted" to steal something.

As for cash only...it might work for small sales, but there are sales with high end items (furniture, cars, electronics, fine jewelry) sporting price tags.  A little difficult to deal with if you don't know the area, or where the nearest ATM might be.  Imagine getting a wad of cash and reaching the door of the estate sale I just described.  What?  I can't take my purse in?  Well, that's no problem.  I'll just stick the money in my shoe (something I did as a kid when I went to amusement parks).  I have to remove my shoes?  Well, I'll just stick the money in my jacket pocket.  What?  No jackets?  Well, what am I am going to do with my money?  I have no pockets on my pants.  The next logical place for a woman?  The bra, of course!  Hope that no one pays attention if something makes an appearance that shouldn't while you're fisting around the front of your neckline to pay for that lamp.

All of the above is in fun, but it does show how ridiculous it's become to attend these sales.  Estate sale companies should stop taking themselves so seriously.  I sometimes wonder what's next.  Strip search, metal detectors, body scanners?  Yeah, those California Raisin dudes are sure worth it.   

Just in Case Uncle Sam Should Take Me

One of the best things about finding an antique or vintage item is learning the history or story behind it.  As a former owner of an antiques' business, I found many relics of the past but the ones closest to my heart came with names, notes, dates and photographs.  Maybe my love of history compels me to feel this way, but it's pretty special when a unique piece brings historical events and people to life.

Certain items catch my eye over others, including particular types of vintage jewelry.  When I had my business, I would attend auctions and estate sales looking for good quality pieces to resell.  I came across one with a meaningful history that I couldn't part with:  a double-strand necklace of blue and pink translucent beads (moonstone in appearance) in beautiful, mint condition from the early 1940s.  In its original Carson Pirie Scott & Company Chicago box, it also came with something extra.  Inside the box was a note in an envelope with the name "Eleanor" written on the front.  The gift giver lovingly wrote:

 "Darling,  Just in case Uncle Sam should take me. This will be my substitute to hang around your neck.  Love, John." 

I learned the man's full name and that the gift was intended for his wife, prior to him leaving for service during World War II.  No one could tell me his fate, whether he returned to Eleanor or if she lost him during the war, but I guessed it might have been the latter.  I came to that conclusion because of the note, and the necklace appeared to have never been worn, but carefully stored away. A symbol of special memories preserved for later generations to enjoy.

I also love particular vintage jewelry designers and knowing their history makes finding one of their pieces special too.  Miriam Haskell created some of the most exquisite and feminine pieces of costume jewelry during her time.  She was born in 1899 in Indiana and opened her first boutique in New York in 1926, working with the likes of designers Coco Chanel and others.  Even though she has passed away, the company she founded still bears her name and each Haskell creation continues to be made by hand.  I came across a Miriam Haskell bracelet (pre-1950) at auction and was fortunate to walk away with the winning bid.  Deciding to keep it for myself, I wear it for special occasions, its taupe seed beads and flowers delicate and unique.  I'm always on the lookout for vintage Haskell jewelry, particularly necklaces and bracelets.

Furniture and vintage photos also catch my eye.  My home is an eclectic mix of antiques and new, with the older furniture blending well and being used as much as the newer pieces.  From a unique drum table to a vintage piano that contained original sheet music and photos from the 1940s in the piano bench, I recall how and where each one was purchased and the stories behind them.  My dining room furniture came from an antique store in Detroit.  I like to think of the previous owners and the families who enjoyed Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners around this same table, or the children who learned to play piano while sitting at the one I now own.  It's the same with the other antique furniture I own and the ones I come across in stores.  My imagination comes up with all kinds of stories.

A particular vintage photo lot I won at auction contained an interesting photograph.  It was an 8x10 photo of a mock wedding held, circa 1900, at Bellevue Place in Batavia, Illinois.  This was the same Bellevue that hosted Abraham Lincoln's wife, Mary Todd Lincoln, when she was committed there by her son in 1875.  Bellevue Place was a private sanitarium for women from 1867-1965. The photograph I acquired came with a description and names of those featured:  all females, the photo was taken at a shower of one of the attendees, while a mock wedding was held and most of the women in the photograph were employees of Bellevue (groom and groomsman were women dressed as men).  I've no idea if the "bride" and "groom" were employees or patients, but it is a very interesting and unique photo.  Bellevue has now been turned into condominiums and apartments.  I imagine its walls have a lot of stories to tell.

A little whimsy and nostalgia would keep me from parting with certain items too.  At one particular sale, I came across a 1960s blow mold Santa Claus intending to resell immediately.  Standing nearly four feet tall, something about its blue-eyed stare prevented me from sticking a price tag on it.  After my husband rewired it, Santa now graces our front porch every Christmas season.

My personal collection also includes vintage perfume bottles.  Whether deco, ormolu or lovely cut bottles and stoppers made in Czechoslovakia, I find these items beautifully designed and worth displaying.  Sometimes the faint scent of perfume still lingers leading me to wonder what that meant to the woman who wore it. 

Even though I made the decision to close my business, I still love going to antique stores and browsing the rows and shelves of collectibles and artifacts.  Part of the joy of the search is always wondering how these items fit into the lives of the people who once owned them.  John's love for Eleanor spoke from the wonderful necklace I now own.  To think that every item from our past had meaning to someone adds significance to preserving and learning about our history.