My Lucky Day?

I've come to believe the luck o' the Irish isn't all it's cracked up to be.  Maybe my luck hasn't changed, but I had some lucky little moments this weekend in my travels.

Soooo, I drive through some small towns on alternate routes to visit various branches of my family, grasshoppers comb their hair (not really, just wanted to wedge my favorite Stevie Ray song in there), and I happen upon places that Google didn't even know existed.  I found this:

With four-leaf clovers, lucky numbers, an elephant with a raised trunk, rabbit's feet, a wishbone, and a horseshoe, it's apparently the luckiest tea towel ever.

Now, I have never, ever, evereverever owned any Bakelite in my whole entire life... until yesterday.  I found these cherry-red carved dress (or shoe or scarf or fur) clips...

...and these butterscotch clip-on hoops.

Of course, I found them super el cheapo.  I find Bakelite all the time, really- it's just always beyond my budget.  My millinery professor told me when she and I were discussing vintage jewelry, that her mother had loads of Bakelite jewelry but got rid of it because it was dime store jewelry way back when. She didn't realize people like us would want it now, and that she could have gotten a pretty penny for it all.

Alas, I'm pretty sure I can't rock that butterscotch color, with my complexion and all, so I'm pretty sure they'll be consigned or meet some other "for sale" fate.  The dress clips, though, are probably mine forever.

Peachy Keen

Once upon a time, my dear friend Karen gave me a lovely quilted bedjacket.  I'm about to start using such things as I keep the windows open on cool nights.

It's handmade, and silk.

This pretty thing was found in a questionable neighborhood, hiding in the lingerie and sleepwear rack.

It's a no-name, but pretty nonetheless.  

Very reminiscent of Gil Elvgren pinups, backlit in sheer robes and nightgowns. 

So, the moral of the story is: If you have friends who also hoard vintage, or you venture into sketchy neighborhoods in your thrifting adventures, you get pretty things.  The End.

It's Sleep Week!

I know when I began this blog, I promised you a "Lingerie Week".  You can thank my apparent ADD for that not happening yet.  The shorty pajamas I posted about yesterday (a week late themselves), coupled with my longing for a full night's sleep since about March, have inspired me to post about vintage sleepwear all week.  It's Sleep Week!  I know, I knowwww- it doesn't sound quite as exciting as Shark Week, unless you're sleep deprived or love vintage sleepwear and loungewear.

Let's start with a piece Evelyn gave me.  Back when we worked at a resale chain together, she would wear this piece layered with lots of other things, pinned up to create texture and show colors of pieces underneath.  (We're creative types, me and her.)  In my ubergoth dreadlocked youth, I still harbored an affinity for vintage that went waaaaay back- it just had to be all black for a while.  And so when I saw the nightgown incorporated into her ensemble, I said "If you ever get rid of that, I love it."  When Evelyn purged her closet, she remembered the suggestion that I thought had been in vain (and forgotten), and passed it along to me!

It's an old Kickernick gown, and the little bow on the bust bundles an applique bouquet between layers of sheer nylon.

Speaking of appliques... Being a Texas gal, I have a special place in my heart for yellow roses.  This Vanity Fair piece has appliqued lace roses at the bust and hem.

Yellow is not my best color.  I do not care.  I love it.

Some of these nighties are so pretty and dress-like, that ladies sometimes mistake them for dresses.  A dear, sweet, very fashionable friend once told me she needed a petticoat for a vintage dress she recently bought.  We went shopping at a few local vintage stores in search of one, and when she brought the dress in to try with a petticoat,  it turned out to be a blue nightgown like this with different embellishments.  Then again, I used to wear vintage slips with combat boots and religious jewelry, so who am I to talk? ;)

Paradise Found

So I had absolutely no Hawaiian or otherwise tropical vintage until this past year.  The following pieces were all found in the same place.

Firstofall,   I look through eBay and Etsy regularly at all types of vintage things- things I'm seeking, but cheap.  I still look at the pricey things, but it's more of a learning experience.  I like to know what else to look for.  I have never seen the label that this bears: Lani. I haven't found it anywhere.

The label also says it's hand-printed.  The accent paint is gold.  This has to be old stock.  For being white, it's super clean.  The zipper is metal, which could be done in a modern repro, and the elastic is still good, but the boning is absolutely shot. (Boning being present is usually an indicator of vintagey goodness in the first place in pieces like this.)
The frogs above the splits on the outer leg are a cute detail. I wish my camera had cuter focus.

This next piece is a Catalina.  The label even notes that the fabric design is copyrighted.  They don't fool around.

Ahhh, a sarong swimsuit... imagine my delight in finding it. :)  It paled in comparison to my delight in finding this next piece, which induced an episode of thrift apnea and a dang-near heart attack.





I keep sifting in this one place, thinking "One day, I'll find a sarong".  That day happened.  I flipped past a late 60s Malia sundress, Hawaiian, but not what I was looking for.... and then I found this:

It's old stock.  I wanted to jump out of my skin like that Calvin and Hobbes cartoon, but I kept a calm facade.  It's by Sun Fashions Hawaii.

There are so many pretty details, I can hardly stand it!  The print is interesting- paisley pineapples and seaweed, and I love the foldover on the bust!

So there you have it- my first sarong, which I've been waiting to wear, and will wear this weekend.

Tropical Paradise

With the end of summer drawing near, and the official first day or autumn approaching, I've just inventoried my recent lucky finds- all full of tropical goodness.  I was born and raised in a subtropical climate myself, and count myself a tropical creature to some degree, along with my friends from places like Guam and the Phillipines.  I always wanted to be a hula girl when I was little- Marisa informs me she would have traded places in a heartbeat.  I would have been the most blindingly pale hula girl of all time.

Anyway, I'll be commemorating the close of summer by wearing some of my tropical vintage this weekend to events here and there.  I just wore this baby again today:

The whole ensemble cost me a whopping $15 at one of my favorite vendors at the 2012 Lone Star Roundup.  I've told you I can't enjoy things that cost too much money.  I enjoy this outfit thoroughly.  The plumeria border print on the skirt is adorable.

I may redo the whole thing if I ever have time, to expose some of the darker print that's hidden under the hem.  However, with my curator job restarting for the fall semester and studio work picking up again, I'm behind on custom orders and it could be a while.

I acquired this beauty super el cheapo:

It's a Rose Marie Reid of California "Draped Sheath".  Not exactly Hawaiian, but tropical-looking enough for this Irish girl, and a good example of New Look-era "ethnic" print nonetheless.  Besides, it fits like a dream.  (If you clicked on the Irish link, I'm convinced that octave-skipping and keening are innate, and part of Irish DNA, but that's a whole 'nother cultural discussion.)

I wore this precious thing a couple of weeks ago.

It appears to be 1940s in every way from the cut to the print.  It seems to be homemade, and the original v-halter strap has been cut out (alas).  The photography studio I work for bought it from a dear friend of mine, and no one ever used it for a shoot, so it was on it's way out in our upcoming wardrobe sale.  Despite my love-for/reluctance-to-wear yellow,  I bought it.  I love it.  The print alone is fantabulous, and it fits me way better than it fits Dolly.  (Dolly could stand to eat a sandwich... if she were real. It's clipped back on her.)

It says "Kamehameha", "Aloha Hawaii", and "Waikiki girl" amidst pineapples, hibiscus, flying fish, hula girls, King Kamehameha, tropical fish, fishermen, canoes, beach scenes, and foliage.

I found these a while back for an amazing deal- almost free.  They were bought as a gift that never got to be given, and now must find another purpose.

They're awesome.  I've been researching a bit, and I have yet to find any quite like this.  The label is either 50s or early 60s as far as I can tell.

"Polynesian Bazaar"- and they're in such good condition!  The coin button is perfect, and the gold paint has oxidized but is still there-  I have half a mind to restore it.  Finding men's vintage in such good shape is a special treasure, since men have worn their clothes into the ground since the dawn of time.  Someone probably wore them once, probably at the request of a lady, and never again (if at all).

I have more tropical pieces to show, all of which came from the same little goldmine I like to haunt.  I'll show you those later.  Soon.  I'm off to some preparation work for a fashion show, so check back and I'll show you exactly what I'll be wearing this weekend. :)