Wednesday, January 26, 2011

i could dress in black and read camus

...smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth
like i was 17
that would be a scream
but i don't want to get over you.

In a timely move, I just bought The Magnetic Fields 69 Love Songs boxed set, and that is one of my favorite lyrics. (I also made an "i don't want to get over you" Etsy treasury, which you can see here.) Yes, the next Hallmark holiday approacheth, and when you're selling items on Etsy, and people have been making heart-filled treasuries for the past two months, you do start to get a little sick of it. And I have not been immune, having quickly put a couple Valentines-y things in the shop!

It's not like I'm not romantic. I just prefer the dark, longing, tragic side of it to the hearts and flowers variety. (I guess I'm still 17 and reading Camus.) And in the spirit of romance, A and I are headed up to the (I assume) even-snowier north for a few days to eat great food, to thrift, and to escape the computer for a few days while it goes into rehab. (It's very slow.)

But first, here's a preview of things to come.

Red roses maxi dress.

Cuddly shawl collar grandpa cardigan.

1980s navy and red stripe military style dress.

1950s herringbone tweed full pleated skirt, by Petti.

1960s French market print dress, by Sue Brett.

1950s diamond pattern cozy cardigan, by Arrow Ski Lodge.

1960s deadstock tribal print shift, new with tag, by Prophecy.

1960s dijon yellow pintucks and eyelet lace blouse, by The Pilot.

1960s deadstock ruffle and stripe dress, by A Valerie Original.

1960s moss green daisies cardigan.

1960s deadstock turquoise and olive green striped knit dress with bateau neck, by Lenbarry Casuals.

1960s gingham dolly dress with piqué collar and satin bow at neck, by Gay Gibson.


Tuesday, January 25, 2011

happy things

2011 started out delightfully, with our grand (if short) trip to New York for my friend Scooter's 40th birthday. But I returned home to a couple unpleasant surprises. Nothing major (just to put it in perspective, the worst news for me was the word that my favorite bartender had quit to go write his novel), but enough to give me a slight case of mean reds.

So I decided to think about--and post here--some of the many things that are currently sending me to my happy place. Like, for example, the giant icicles attached to the eaves of the house.

I'm also loving that I'm finally using this vintage record cabinet as a record cabinet. As opposed to storage for several VHS tapes, a large nest of cable wire, and (I kid you not), five different remote controls we are no longer using. (Oh, by the way--that little torso sitting on top? Andy is convinced it is a salesman's sample mannequin. Any other ideas? It's a freaky little thing.)

It pleased me that--to my surprise--nearly my entire vinyl collection fit inside the cabinet.

I think I might have posted his picture before, but this little lemon yellow ceramic boychick, purchased from Grand Rapids' Urban Institute for Contemporary Arts, makes me happy.

Speaking of the UICA, they also helped banish my blues by showing the two Mesrine films. France + gangsters + 1960s setting + Vincent Cassel = total awesomeness.

Fee Brothers Orange Bitters. I'm using these (and the Fee classic bitters) in everything--club soda, prosecco, Manhattans. Next I want to try them in a Rob Roy, though the only scotch I have is Laphroaig. Scotch purists would have me hung for mixing Laphroaig with anything at all, but, well, I'm not a purist.

These triangle-perforated taupe oxfords. My size--yes! But they haven't been worn yet, due to freezing temps, snow, and ice. I just gaze at them and wait longingly for slightly warmer, drier weather.

This feller's radio show makes my Monday-Thursday afternoons very happy indeed. Seriously, I don't know how I lived before without Gideon Coe's show.

And Miss Lucy, of course.


Thursday, January 20, 2011

man stuff

We are all about Equal Opportunity here at Small Earth Vintage. So here are some items for you gentlemen, coming to the shop shortly!

1970s rooster print shirt by Van Heusen. (Andy is kind of insistent that I title this one A Lot of Cock.)

Pumpkin and sage plaid wool western shirt, by Panhandle Slim.

1960s baby blue wool and mohair sweater, by Glasgo Ltd.

Deadstock 1960s kinda sorta Greek-ish print men's cotton shirt, by California Styled.

1970s Wrangler denim jacket with Donald Duck and I'm a Michi-Gander patches!

Belted safari shirt/jacket, by Esquire Ltd. of Nairobi.

1970s plaid shirt-jacket with leather trim, by Pioneer Wear of Albuquerque.


Wednesday, January 19, 2011


I've been verrrrrry slowly moving stuff back into the bedroom, post-painting. I'm not moving all my clutter back because I want to, though. I'm doing it because I have to: we will soon have our first house guest since the painting was completed, and all the stuff stashed in the guest bedroom must be relocated.

I'm doing this so slowly because--as I've said here before--I'm loving the newly minimalist look of the bedroom. I'm particularly loving this little nook, which I'm thinking may turn out to be a great place to take some shop photos.

Antique marble-top dresser passed down from my grandparents, dried hydrangeas from my friend Roberta's garden, a selection of my current perfume rotation on a vintage tray, and some favorite necklaces hanging from a thrifted coat rack. Perfect!


Tuesday, January 18, 2011

in between days

I find this time of year a little weird--everyone else is pining away for spring, yet I am happily, cozily, ensconced in winter. The Christmas decorations are still up here. We just got a ton of Lake Effect and I can't wait to go cross country skiing. I am not ready to give up boots or tights or wool or my winter coats!

And yet...I know that many (most?) of you are thinking spring and spring wardrobes. This shop preview has a lot of cozy sweaters and even a coat. But a green and brown color scheme unexpectedly popped up, which made me think of nothing so much as muddy, wet spring!

Pussywillow cardigan, by Dalton.

1960s colorful plaid print shirtwaist dress, Miriam Susskin for Mel Naftal.

Rose worsted wool cardigan, by Deans of Scotland.

Silk coffee stripe dress, by Diane von Furstenberg.

1940s nubby brown wool full skirt, by Leyton.

Electric blue velvet coat, by Surrey Classics.

Oversize floral print cardigan.

1930s black crushed velvet dress with scalloped neckline.

1960s silk floral vine print blouse, by Lady Manhattan.

1960s mod woodgrain swirl print dress, by Jean Lang.

1950s nubby green pencil skirt, by Lampl.

Italian-made fern green ruched sweater, by Plymouth.

Mod polka-dots bow dress.

Brown and green Nordic wool cardigan, by Jersild.

1950s blue and white lace-trimmed linen dress.

1940s movie star's champagne quilted satin robe, by Desmond's Southern California.


Friday, January 14, 2011

to the five boroughs

I stole the title of this post from a Beastie Boys song. It is also the title of a radio show we tuned in to on our drive across New Jersey into NYC. The deejay played a song by The Drums, one of my favorite new bands, a New York band by way of Florida, that I first heard on BBC Radio 6, and which only one of my New York friends (hi, Pete!) had heard of. Funny, that!

Enough about music (though everything is about music with me lately)! We were in New York for just a few days--a long weekend, really--to celebrate the 40th birthday of my friend Rob a.k.a. Robert a.k.a. (mostly to me and a couple others) Scooter. Rob and I have known each other for 20 years, and were roomates for several years when I lived in New York, and I love him most dearly.

Andy in the snow, in Queens.

I didn't take a ton of photos. I spent most of my time catching up with friends I miss terribly.

Andy and I headed into the city our first day and spent it walking in the snow. I love the hats on the walls at the 23rd Street subway stop. This one is supposed to be Henry James' hat.

We strolled past Gramercy Park, one of New York City's two privately-owned parks. You need to have a key to enter. I took this photo of Greg Wyatt's Fantasy Fountain sculpture from between the iron bars of the fence surrounding the park.

After walking many blocks in the snow, we happily reached our destination, Vandaag restaurant. It had been on my list of must-visit places since I'd read about their genever cocktails in my favorite booze blog (really, the only one I read), Off the Presses. The food is a mix of Dutch and Scandinavian treats. It and the cocktails were divine, and warmed us up nicely! Andy and I also fell in love with the bar stools here (you can see them in the photos in the Off the Presses post) and want to find some for the house.

I had to take a photo of this painted wall which had all my obsessions on it: frites, beer steins, cocktails (that might actually be a wine goblet), Scotland (and that a Belgian lion, but whatever, please just humor me).

You know how sometimes after you eat you feel even colder? I think there is a scientific reason for it: all that blood rushing to your belly, which is working to process your meal, making your extremeties colder. Or something. Well, that's how we felt after leaving Vandaag. The snow had mainly stopped, but it was still quite cold. So we ended up--to my shame--in McSorley's. I say "to my shame" because during my years in New York it always seemed like a place where frat boys and tourists went to drink too much and throw up--though, admittedly, I'd never been inside. Well, my first visit there was actually just fine. A little smelly, but filled with neat old stuff--a coal stove, ancient beer coolers, sawdust all over the floor, a funny bar menu ("Cheese Plates: Cheddar American"), and lo and behold, a pennant from my alma mater. A good place to warm up on a cold afternoon.

The next part of our visit entailed a trip to Brooklyn to visit Rob's beautiful new place and spend time in his neighborhood, and which also included a fun trip to the Brooklyn Flea Market.

And the best moment of the weekend? The birthday boy's celebration at Brooklyn's Clover Club. Potato chips fried in duck fat, catching up with the funniest, most delightful people I know, too many cocktails, and closing the joint down--all in the worthy service of celebrating the birthday of my dear friend. Love you, Scooter!



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