Friday, April 25, 2014

A Little Respect

Hello darlings!
Sharing some of my favorite things today: novelty print (who me?), matching accessories, and a great deal (with a price.)

The accessories aren't a true set, but sure work as such. I've been searching for a burgundy 40s hat since last summer, as I already had the clutch & heels. I'd almost given up, until I went on a day adventure down the Columbia River gorge a month ago, and found this baby in The Dalles, OR.

The dress was a complete steal. There is this godawful "vintage" (I use that term loosely, it's mostly garbage) store in Denver, I despise it sooo much. The owner is such a pretentious jerk, I've actually gotten in fights with him. That's a blue moon occurrence, usually I just quietly take my money elsewhere if someone is rude. He's one of those "instantly bitchy because you ask to see something" sorts. 

You know the type.
"Oh. Weeeell... you know those shoes are 40s, right? And they are $50." 
"Err. I'm standing here in head to toe 40s, so I obviously know they are 40s... and $50 is... not a lot of money...." 

But... hilariously, he also has no idea what he's doing. Typically, the real vintage this place has is stained, ripped & grandiosely overpriced for its horrid condition. However, I keep finding bakelite in his $1 bins, and I get random 40s dresses he thinks are 80s. Yes, you read that right, the price tag for this said "80s dress", and it was $20. This is the 3rd "80s" dress I've bought there. Ha, thanks dude. So I keep going back;)

I'm actually a bit uncertain what this print is. 
There is a yellow version on Pinterest, and they call it "Roman." Ok? Sure.
What do you think?

So now we all know what I sound like when I get mad, muahaha. *inappropriate hand motion*
I'm sure lots of you out there have stories where they were treated poorly by sellers, and *hopefully* you were also victorious. (Related note: sellers don't get me wrong! Buyers can be the worst as well, I read etsy inquiries all day at work. Trust me, I know. Ohhh, people. Bless their hearts.)



1940s dress: it doesn't really matter.
1940s clutch & hat, 1950s belt: antique stores
1940s heels: Le Frock

All photos courtesy of Jaynie Healy

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Tell Me Easter's On Friday

Happy Easter, lovelies! It's humorous for me to write an Easter post, as I'm a non-religious heathen, and will be working tomorrow. (Ha.... It's 4/20, and I'm working a burlesque show called Bongs & Thongs. Welcome to my life.)

But. This hat is totally an Easter hat. So I guess I'm doing an Easter post.

Are they butterflies, or flowers? Some kind of mutant, I daresay. 
Completely smitten with the zig zag edges on peplum & sleeves.

Throwing this in here, for I love The Associates, and it's appropriate;)

Hope ya'll are doing swell!


1940s dress: Red Light
1940s shoes: Lucky Vintage
1930s-40s hat & bakelite: antique stores

All photos courtesy of Jaynie Healy

Friday, April 4, 2014

Big Belts, 1945

Big Bags & Belts
Life, November 19, 1945

The current revival of the big overshoulder bag and the big leather belt was started by a New York City couple named Phelps who may also be starting something new in U.S. small business. Because he liked to do handicraft work, William Phelps use to make leather belts for his wife, Elizabeth. Today the Phelpses are in the business, making huge pouches, big belts, and purse belts. 

Their business success has brought the Phelpses a tidy $1,000-a-month profit ad unlimited personal satisfaction. Mr. Phelps, a General Motors foreign manager during the 1920s, and his wife make their own designs and do a good deal of the handwork. This year, backed financially by five big department stores, they opened a small factory in an abandoned Pennsylvania church to increase their production. Looking at the Phelpses' success, some economic experts feel that many Americans can follow their example and turn handicraft skill, which abounds in the U.S., into gratifying, profitable small business.

Parachute bag of crushable shoe-calf leather is biggest in Phelps line

Postman's bag of cowhide has front pockets with American eagle.

Cowhide belt has wide plates in front and rear and slimming pieces at sides. Victorian horse's head, of metal, is used as a decoration. This belt is hand-sewn, hand-tooled, and hand-polished.

Scalloped edge on a three-inch-wide belt is a Phelps trick to flatter the waistline. The ornament, repeated around the belt, is copied from an old ordinance insignia.

Handy as a trouser pocket is this pouch of light calfskin an dark buckskin. It fastens on belt, has easy-to-get-into side opening and zippered money compartment.

Small evening bag of green suede is big enough to hold lipstick, change, keys. Its ornament is a fireman's badge. Only the slim-waisted should wear belt-bags like this.

The Phelpses figure out how many belts can be cut from one leopard skin. They employ 15 craftsman in their New York factory, 60 more in new Pennsylvania plant.

Old Metal Decorated New Leather
Much fine leather, according to the Phelpses, is ruined by slick finishes which cover the natural markings and scars and take away some of the leather's character. the Phelpses clean their leather with mild soaps, finish it with waxes and dress it with milk and eggs. As ornaments they use old metals, bits of harness, regimental insignia, drawer pulls and all kinds of decorative scraps which a professional snooper on the Phelps payroll ferrets out of pawnshops, antique stores, junk shops, and similar likely places.

Metal odds and ends like these - state crest, Polish eagle, policeman's buckle and fireman's badge - are used as decorations. Customers are urged to supply their own.

I want all of these things, holy crap. I found it interesting the war wasn't mentioned, for large leather accessories trending had to be related to leather becoming more available, right? There's a small collection of Phelps belts in the Met's collection, and they are just as drool-inducing:

(Late 1940s, found here)

(1944, found here)

 (Late 1940s, found here)

  Same belt as the Life cover! Betty Anderson, photographed by Louise Dahl-Wolfe for Harper's Bazaar Jan. 1944 (found here)

Someone lend me a time machine, STAT.