A Winner

A tiny post today to announce the winner of the second summer contest - congratulations to Tiffani who was randomly chosen! I'll be getting your prize to the post office sometime today. And of course, thanks to everyone for taking the time to leave such lovely comments!

I have to bid a short farewell as I'll soon be off on a one week adventure. We're San Francisco bound, on what I suppose is a goodbye to summer, one last exercise of freedom before classes resume in late September. Be assured I'll be toting my trusty camera, collecting pretty snapshots along the way. In store is a slew of the typical touristy things - cable cars and Golden Gate Park - as well as a few open air markets and (hopefully) a visit to Bell'Occhio.

A Day By the Shore

Growing up I never fully appreciated living along the southern coast of California. I often daydreamed of trotting down autumn lanes ablaze in red and gold foliage, of waking early in the December twilight to find the backyard blanketed in snow. But during the summer months, when the clear blue sky is almost indistinguishable from the sea, and the sultry heat is tempered by a soft breeze off the ocean, it's positively sublime. Brett and I took a stroll down the pier last week, pausing to watch waves roll toward a shoreline dotted with bright umbrellas. There's a forties style diner at the end of it, a nice spot for sea-gazing, milkshakes and the hum of big band swing. We came here on a late November evening nearly three years past on our first date. It's quite different then, when the crowds of summer have gone - a place of wind and waves and cold salty spray, warmed by the glow of lamplight against the darkened sea. As much as our little pier is the emblem of summer, it always reminds me a bit of autumn - which is to my surprise just around the corner once again.

The 1940s

It seems like ages since I've posted, but really it's just been a project filled week in a rush to get things done before summer's end. Updates to come on the dresser, dollhouse and a few other furniture projects underway. But there's another lovely collection of things I've been meaning to post about, all with a decade of origin in common... Recalling the nineteen forties, I'm always swept up in the glamor of red lipstick and the swinging strains of the Glenn Miller Orchestra. I suppose it's sentimental and a little naive to idealize a time of rations and railway station partings. But I do think the period is rightly remembered as a picture of human resilience. A resilience apparent in even the tritest of aesthetic details - the ability to meet fear with a jaunty trumpet wail, the class to take on the wartime assembly lines in tailored uniform and perfectly rouged cheeks.
{Snapshot} You might be wondering about the origin of those two photos above - the woman painting American insignia on a bright yellow wing, the aerial shot of two navy planes. They're part of a Flickr collection from the Library of Congress - an enthralling archive of color photos from the 1930s and 40s. There seems to be a certain intangible quality about these images - something different and quiet, aloof and faraway. Unsatisfied, I concluded that it's the striking contrast and muted tones that yield such a solemn serenity. Twenty four favorites are gathered here.
{Sew} A few months ago I acquired a darling little toy sewing machine. It's such a joyous pop of color in shiny red metal. And it's just eight wee inches across, certainly appealing to my love of crafty small things. With my grandmother's help and a box of vintage spools uncovered at a yard sale, I got it sewing a single thread chain stitch fairly reliably. It's history is little known to me - it's a Kay-an-EE Sewmaster with a throat plate bearing "Made in Berlin, U.S. Zone." Clearly it's post war, and some research has suggested late forties or early fifties, but I'm still trying to find out more.
{Story}
Photographed above is a March 1942 copy of the news magazine Coronet that I found while thrifting recently. The cover is sublime with its combination of bright red-orange and turquoise, not to mention a trio of forties fonts.
{Screen}
Old movie musicals are a beloved pastime of mine. Coincidentally, not long after spying the old periodical mentioned above I saw Cover Girl (1944), in which a Brooklyn dancer (Rita Hayworth) becomes a magazine's cover girl after winning a contest. Slightly formulaic as all musicals go, but in the end more reflective than most. I quite liked it for it's array of forties fashions and a very dashing Gene Kelly.

Of Roses and Rust

Thus far, it has been a summer of thrifty treasure hunting - a warm two months spent taking in the humid sea air while dodging in and out of antique shops along the old coast highway, a string of Saturdays spent waking far too close to dawn for yard sale-ing with the girls. Though it's mostly in pursuit of furniture "projects", I can't help adopting a few other things along the way. On a particular morning I spied a downtrodden Decoware trashcan, rusty and damp from the morning dew. It was dreary but pretty with its alluring floral motif on antique white. Slovenly cast by the wayside, it sat waiting for someone to cart it away for fifty cents.

As it happened, I was that someone. I rather foolishly and impulsively found myslef lugging this good-sized metal mess home. I remedied the grime with a soapy scrub and the rust with a little sandpaper and a fresh coat of Rust-Oleum paint. Glossy glacier blue now rims the vintage perfection of the unaltered exterior - aged off-white, delightfully shabby and bedecked with burst of sprig and petal.