I’ve grown to be pretty mechanical in my buying and selling of vintage merchandise; I’ll make a swift walk in, assess the situation, narrow in on what catches my eye, acquire it, get the pictures completed, list it, and stockpile it in the many places around the apartment or in storage.
Also thanks to this blog and the painful art of listing, my knack for some creative writing is slowly returning. Listing on Etsy has become a cinch, and lately I’ll have an entire post in my head as early as walking up to check the price tag on something. This whole process just happened this past Saturday at a church flea market in Lyons when I spotted this 1950’s-60’s typewriter.
“Mid-Century typewriter- excellent condition. Only $5, would be an easy flip.”
Then I saw the “Made in Bulgaria”, which gave me all I needed for my ridiculous one-liners that have been accompanying my Etsy listings. “1950’s Bulgaria. Commies. The perfect typewriter to hole up in your attic and write some subversive literature- Yeah that’ll work. Easy $40 or more”
Then at home while taking measurements, weight, and checking for any flaws worth mentioning I came across this sheet of paper located in the convenient paper slot inside the typewriter case . (ink is faint, click to super size!)
Then this.
“Oh man Laura Neumann you communist SOB.”
Then. Vintage Euphoria.
Occasionally an item itself will floor you, but often it’s the weird things; the receipts, to do lists, the notes to themselves or their children. While you would never purchase these little things themselves, when found become far more valuable than the purchase or even the resale value of the item. The things they would never want anyone, especially the FBI, to see.
This is why I go through other peoples crap on my free time. Priceless.
Now is the time for for all good men to come to the aid of their party.
Now is the time for for all good men to come to the aid of their party.
Now is the time for for all good men to come to the aid of their party.
UPDATE!!!: Well it turns out the phrase above was a popular typing phrase alongside “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog”. It originated in 1867 in some podunk town in Wisconsin. Still interesting...and...Laura Neumann is still a communist SOB.
I've been told not to dump on other etsy sellers. After all, its bad form, and karma, and dogma, and whatever. I mean, I wouldn't want anyone mocking the stupid crap I sell. However, there's something so offensive to me about an item like the following that I can't even really use words to describe it. Okay, I'll use words, and English ones, at that. (This item, btw, was found on the first page of the "for him" page of etsy. You know, the page of items that aren't actually masculine but are reminiscent of something that the unpaid intern at etsy remembers boys liking from, like, her, um, youth.)
Let's open with the item as its portrayed on the "for men" page:
This "thing" is called a "sars guard". You know, to guard you from sars! If they were being honest they'd call it a "getting respect from other humans guard!!!"
Jayson and I had just got off the phone discussing trying to push the blog into something useful for our readers and not just Etsy shop nonsense when this wonderful idea popped into my head: lets have the readers pick my next item title.
What a more perfect item and LOL funny then this vintage Schlitz beer pitcher. Let the voting BEGIN!
Whenever I head into the kids room and grab some toys my oldest gets suspicious because I may or may not have sold a couple of her Fisher-Price toys at some point. I mean, who’s keeping track of all these toys?
Today her and her sister picked the lock on their door (j/k) and came out wondering what I was doing with her computer and dolly. Only props my dear…so far.
A bit of a picture overload but if you have a beating heart in your chest you’ll find one you just love. I think I might include one with Lucy (the youngest) in the Etsy listing, if all goes over well this might be the beginning of some sort of Etsy stage-parenting disaster.
There will be additional posts on lessons learned about the business/logistical side, but here are a few things I will by no means do again:
Attend a party the night before with an open bar.
Go to bed late.
Uh, not eat breakfast.
Not have my morning coffee.
Not eat lunch.
Not sit down all day.
Cut my finger open.
Not even 30mins later get my finger stuck in a folding shelf.
You couldn’t tell from my rough exhausted exterior (pretty much all my fault) but really nothing but butterflies and sunshine inside. Two thumbs up to Katherine and Libby.
Yeah I know I'm totally stealing Morgan's idea, but hey, I'm used to riding his coat tales. I'm insanely excited to go the vintage bazaar this Saturday. So excited, in fact, that I'm missing two other appointments on Saturday so that I can share a booth with Morgan. Well, not exactly, share, more like tag along. He's the connoisseur of vintage wares, I just dabble. Either way, I know for certain that the booth is going to be awesome. Its kinda interesting because when I put all this stuff out here on the table I can definitely see a pattern, a sort of style, if you will.
Gotta love the "Mary Queen of Heaven Bingo" coffee mug.
Whenever I notice items labeled "primitive" I chuckle, because often it just means busted, and more costly than a tad newer, working, vintage/antique pieces. The primitives’ category also consists of plenty of decor, which (you couldn't tell from our existing overcrowded living space) I'm more and more leaning towards the direction of wholly useless.
Primitive furniture on the other hand I've become smitten and awash with love. So am I saying I want a house minimally decorated with each room centered on a gnarly, rustic, my-entire-brood-couldn't-destroy-it, piece of wooden awesomeness? Yes. Yes I am, that and rows and rows of Globe-Wernicke bookcases. (My wife will never let this happen)
These objects are very pricey if you're a sucker and purchase from a dealer (I'm not and I won't) and rare to come by in these parts (Chi-town). Also and a BIG also, I'm split on the issue of spending money on distressed pieces of furnishings all together!
Isn't some of the fun watching your furniture going from new (always a little used in my case) to charmingly beat up? Particularly the family man that I am, when my kids are on their own and I sit those final years on deaths door, wouldn't furniture covered with 20+ yrs of damage I told my wiener kids never to do my stuff just warm my old saggy gray heart?
So what is the point of the blog post? I think a to-do list is in order.
Keep going to sales/junk stores/alleyways, maybe, just maybe.
Take a trip down south with a van?
Seriously consider begin investing in space (purchase of my own Chicago bungalow is in the works) and tools to make my own damn furniture.
Does anyone know of a blog about this kind of stuff?
Oh and duh, the whole reason I started this post was because I found this chair last week, worst-blogger-ever. $15 yo.
My grandfather, nearly 80 years old, has worked in the antique business for probably 50 years. his odd collections and obsessions have always been an inspiration to me, and I thought it would be cool to call him up and get some tips from him.
1. Buy what you like and what you enjoy
2. You can actually Make money Antiquing/Junking
3. Take Risks
4. How to educate yourself about antiquing
5. His biggest Regret: Selling the hippy totem pole
6. Take your time, don't start too fast.
I'm gonna try to do this every week, as I had a blast talking to my grandpa about something we both enjoy.
As of right now I am the only person to have any items tagged as "machine porn" in Etsy. Maybe the only person ever to have used that tag, which may in the end, be one of my life's better accomplishments. So here's to blog traffic going up for having porn in the title! Welcome perverts.
What are tv lamps? In the 1950s and 1960s, people thought that watching the light from a television in a dark room could damage your eyes. In order to compensate for the light from the glowing television, families purchased special lamps just made for that purpose. You can't get any more specialized than a lamp designed specifically to sit on top of a television. When consumers want something in America, the manufacturers and also the designers will respond. And they responded with the usual. Thousands and thousands of different styles, colors, and designs were available for the consumer. Americans who gathered around the television in the 1950s and early 1960s have fond memories of these lamps sitting atop their televisions, bringing ambient light into the room, and reducing eye strain.
I've always had an affection for swanky vintage tv lamps. They're definitely passe today, what with our super thin lcd and plasma tvs. But I think they're so cool, people should consider building shelves. Should I do that? I don't' know.
You would not expect the Depot American Diner to be as awesome as it is. Located on Roosevelt Ave on the West Side of Chicago, its home, next to a rim shop, and surrounded by blight, does not seem to be the type of place where you would find a hip, traditional (and vintage mind you) diner experience. But you will.
This diner was opened with the idea that everything if possible, should be made from scratch, all techniques and recipes should be mid-century, and the food should be as good as possible. The owner is a really great guy. He's a classically trained chef who wanted to start something a little different. Its great to see him cook the food right there in front of you as you sit at the counter. If you don't want to sit at the counter and gawk at his fine culinary skills, they have booths, or if you're with an unruly and larger group, they have a larger table in the back. Whenever I go there with my family, we head straght for the back of the restaurant as, it provides the most crowd control for an unruly crowd of children.
Their food is plain awesome. All of it is made fresh, and I mean all of it. The helpings are huge, and the specials are actually made from what the "regulars" like. They serve coke in bottles (with real sugar) as well as a few other strange concoctions that were around in the 50's. If you're on the west side of Chicago I would highly reccomend that you check this place out.
Yes, I'm setting a decorating goal for the new year. As emasculating as it might seem to our American sensibilities, I do think this goal is, at its core, at the heart of what it means to be a man; a family man that is. I want to decorate our house with pictures of our family. Large, gleaming, glossy, silly, fun pictures. This revelation came to me while I was thinking about what pictures to put up above our mantel. I suddenly I realized that as a happy and fairly young family, we don't really have that many pictures of our actual family up and around the house. I then saw this post at makingitlovely.com where she hangs this huge and neat looking photo of her daughter in her office. I guess we do have a shelf upstairs that holds memories, but even that is well below eye level and hidden in a strange cornerish part of the upstairs. I want them to be plentiful, larger, and throughout the house. Here are some of my favorite pics from our flickr account.
I want to buy all of these for above my mantle. Yes, yes, and yes.
I've got some etsy loot going on right now, so I'm really tempted, especially with the last one. Its only $10 and the detail and painting on it look great. I love the frame, too. Oh man oh man!
In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration when Quirinius was governor of Syria. And all went to be registered, each to his own town. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the town of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be registered with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.
And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear. And the angel said to them,
“Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.
For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.
And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.”
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”
When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another,
“Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.”
And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger. And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child. And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.
And at the end of eight days, when he was circumcised, he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.
Whenever I see these I laugh, I mean what weirdo decided it was cruel to wipe a babies butt with a cold wipe? Poor Sally and Johnny will never reach their life's full potential because of the trauma of being wiped with cold wipes! How about the trauma to the parents of cleaning pee and crap for two years.(hopefully only two years) What. A. Joke. Anything for a buck I guess.
But if you must, and you're convinced warmer wipes will put your lil" Sally or Johnny in an Ivy League, keep their marriage strong 20 years from now, and help them deal with stress. Go vintage! Throw those wipes on the radiator and shazaam!! You got hot wipes. Sometimes really hot wipes.
Yeah with the amount of goofy stuff out there right now for parents I'm making this a part 1.
This video is a cross between a Mr. Rogers factory video, and chair porn. I love it. Thank you Eames, thank you Herman Miller. Oh and did I mention that my coworker's fiance works at the Knoll factory in Grand Rapids. I can totally get a tour of the factory. Sweetness.
Mission accomplished. I made this promise to my daughter nearly 3 years ago. "When we have our own house, I'll make you a skating rink." The wives were slightly annoyed. "Why do you guys need beer?" "This is a one day project, right?" But I can tell you right now without reservation that every minute spent on this 17' X 20' bad boy is worth the 3+ hours of work. Now if I only had some skates.
For as long as I can remember I wanted a bungalow and Lord willing I may soon get one.
Tami and I are on our third child and will soon be breaking laws about amount of persons allowed in one bedroom apartments. With the housing market as pathetic as it is, the misery of others will be one of our greatest blessings.
We've been looking in Berwyn which has the highest concentration of bungalows anywhere in the world.
One of the first orders of business after purchasing a house will be making sure my family is safe when I'm away each day. Let me translate that for us Chicagoans, "packing some mutha-ucking heat".
Really probably not one of my first orders of business but I needed something to segue this video:
Over thanksgiving break my uncle announced to the family that he didn't drink coffee anymore, only tea. I coughed up a little bit of mashed potatoes when he made the announcement. Coffee is American. Tea is....well...weak. You should only drink tea under two circumstances:
1. You're sick.
2. You're a girl (Ladies, don't get offended. Girls are little, young, fragile, and whiny. Women can kick my ass)
Morgan drinks his black. I prefer mine with lots of sugar and some cream. Either way, most men love to enjoy a brew of mud in the morning before work. Oh man the taste is like so many earthy flavored punches to my tastebuds. So right now my inspiration folder is filled with ironic, and sometimes funny coffee mugs. Vintage, of course.
What a wonderful and pretty cheap gift for the holiday season.
For Nerdy Guy:
For Step-Uncle Redneck Dad:
For the Ladies Man:
For the undecided Dude:
For the Straight Edged Man:
For Uncle Che:
For Mr. Bossman:
For Mr. Self-Confident:
Besides the traditional coffee mug, there is ONE other awesome way to enjoy brew in the morning. The beer stein. My personal choice is my grandfather's 1951 Indiana University Beer Stein. I love the fact that you can fill it up with just a cup of coffee and there's still tons of room left. That way, I'm less likely to slosh it all over myself when driving to work.
I was browsing the upcoming sales this weekend when I found this doosey. Morgan will probably be pissed that I'm posting this sale, but its too amazing not to share. Plus I'll be out of town this weekend, ha ha! So why is this sale so cool? The basement of the house is packed with nautical themed stuff. Some of it is hokey and lame, but some of it is awesome. Exhibit 1: They have a harpoon for sale. A freaking harpoon. Have you ever heard of such a thing?
Exhibit 2: Cool lamps and a vintage globe. I hope they're cheap! Oh and notice the three floyd's box in the left of the pic. That has to be a good sign, right? Beer, cool lamps, vintage globes. Check, check, and checkity check.
Exhibit 3: Awesome-ass steins. Mikey likey. Please be cheap.
Guns. In glass cases. Oh man I like guns in picture frames. I just love the idea of being burgled in the night, smashing open the frame, and pointing a revolver straight at said burgler's temple, trying to remain calm and confident and hoping to hell he won't realize that its fake. Yeah I'm weird.
If you're a dad like me, you're constantly in a state of trying to pass on the stuff that you adored as a kid to your own children. I loved popup books. I used to make my own, even. I found an etsy store that sells only popup books. Sweet.
Seeing these vintage pop up books brings me back to my youth. Heck, it brings me back to my present. I love reading books to my kids, and my kids especially love popup books. Who hasn't read "Pat the Bunny" to their wee one?
This past summer Jayson and I took our familys to Jayson's family farm for a couple days of marksmanship, beers, no cellphone reception, and complete total relaxation. I took many pictures of the farm, which came into his family in 1863 during the height of the American Civil War. I always thought it would be quite cool to add some age into the pictures to match the history of the location.
Here is my first try. It's no Civil War era pic but maybe 1960's.
Manly Vintage - This blog is dedicated to the manly and the vintage. We want to challenge the notion that 'manly men' don't care about design, style, fashion, and taste. With a focus on emphasizing the power of vintage style and finds, we intend to discuss and categorize the creature comforts of men.
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