Monday, October 18, 2010

Victorian Lampshade

Most everything in our home is from the 70's.
My boyfriend's father grew up in this house. Eventually his mother moved in, and he was born. He's the only person of age that I know that resides in the house he was born in. Not a lot has changed around here.
His mother was a wonderful and talented lady. She passed away some years ago and his father has since re-married and moved out.

This lampshade has sat for years on an end table that was handcrafted in the early 1940's. It has seen an entire family through years of books, crafts, and letters to loved ones.

It is truly stunning as a very functional work of art, and guaranteed to light up a corner of your home and heart.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Vintage is 20 years old? I'm doomed.

I'm struggling with etsy's use of the word 'vintage.'
To an Etsian, vintage labeling would pertain to something 20+ years old. At the age of 27, I am feeling slightly disheartened by this.

I have several things that I remember about 1990. My memories of that year are mostly classified as vintage. According to the dictionary they are –adjective; old-fashioned or obsolete:

I was 7. The proposal for the world wide web was being set into place. The Cold War ended. The Hubble was launched into space.  Milli Vanilli admits to lip-synching. I remember all of those things. They can't be that old. I'M ONLY 27!

I don't know what I'll do when my life is considered antique!

Don't let this little guy fool you. He'll be turning vintage in January.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

The shoes that dreams are made of

When I saw these shoes, I fell in love instantly. I was quite distraught when I realized they were marked with a size that is well known to be too large for my feet.
How could they?!

Regardless, I claimed them and brought them home.

When I walked through the door, I practically stepped out of the knee high boots I was wearing and slid my feet into my new prize.
They were still too big.

I wore them for nearly half a day...anxiously waiting for them to fit. It can only be described as that hungry time period when you keep opening the fridge, expecting your favorite dish to suddenly appear. I asked my boyfriend a myriad of stupid questions...."Do you think they'd shrink in the washing machine? The dryer? What if I soak them, and put them in the oven."
He chuckled each time and slowly shook his head at me.

I finally gave up and solemnly removed them from my feat. Feeling defeated I placed them throughout the shop and began to photograph them. The more pictures I took, the more my mood lightened realizing someone like you could love them like I do.