Vintage Wednesday: Finding your passion.

Mama's got a new passion. I can't blame her because it's a passion of mine too. She's started collecting Van Briggle pottery - in Ming blue. And she's taught me a couple things as she's pursued this passion.

It started with the vase above (nestled among another of her collections). She knew it was Van Briggle. She liked the color. She liked the flower (a columbine). She got the vase, and started a new collection.

She found that this particular color was inspired by Chinese pottery. Founder Artus Van Briggle was interested in Chinese glazes - particularly the dead glaze process used during the Ming Dynasty. Ming blue is a color you'll see in all the decades of Van Briggle pottery. Some collectors note you can guess at the decade in which the pottery is produced by the highlights (or lack thereof) made by the darker blue overglaze.

Whether the color of the Colorado sky or inspired by ancient Chinese art, I'm sure it's inspired passion in many a collector's heart.

Vintage Wednesday: Victorian Mottos

I'm a collector. I don't know why I'm a collector, but I am a collector. Maybe because I've always had a sense that history was valuable and needed to be preserved? Possibly because I compulsively put things in order? Maybe it's just that I was taught to see the beauty in the little things? I do know, however, that I've been a collector for most of my life.

When I was young, I was all about books, books, books. I'd beg for a dollar at a yard sale. I've drool over the first editions in the used book store. I'd pour over the illustrations by Harrison Fisher and Howard Chandler Christy. I loved the feel of paper, the typography, the bindings.

As I've gotten older, I'm more specific in my collections - probably because there's just not room to start a library and a museum in my house. It takes something unusual to catch my eye. But that's what's happened in the last year.

It started - as it usually does - with an estate sale. It was the estate of a collector, which is the very best kind for a collector. She collected crystal - loads and loads of crystal. But she also had some unusual things around the house tucked into closets and cubbyholes. As I walked through a bedroom, a picture caught my eye. It had pink and yellow roses on a black background and a rather gothic Victorian picture with the scripture, "The Lord hath been mindful of us". As I explored the rest of the house, that picture stayed in my mind and in the end it was the only thing I purchased at the sale... for about $10.

Several months later I was walking through another estate sale and found another picture with the scripture "Thou art my refuge and my portion" on it. The style was different in that it was printed rather than embossed and was on a white background, but it still had flowers and scripture quote as a theme. I think I picked it up for about $10 as well.

Well, once you have two, you have crossed the line from pretty object to collection. I then started looking for these types of artwork at the estate sales, flea markets, thrift stores and antique shops I visit. And what I've found is that I've been incredibly lucky to find the pieces I've found. Anything I've found online is $100 or more!

Apparently these pictures followed a trend in Victorian ornamentation called Berlin work. Berlin work incorporated colorful yarns (manufactured in Berlin) with low cost canvas or perforated paper (as opposed to linen or silk) that was accessible to the middle classes as an art form. The industrial revolution and the rise of the middle class gave many women the means to have leisure time and embroidery - which had been a pastime of the wealthy - became a pastime of the middle class. It brought color and art to the middle class home.

I'd seen the paper punched versions of these pieces complete with some inspirational motto, hymn reference or scripture verse worked in variegated thread. I'd not, however, seen much of the printed mutation of these works of art. And when trying to research the history, I found it difficult to trace the roots. After searching for scripture verse art and quotation pictures, among other things, I finally stumbled on the moniker "motto," which opened the door to the little history I've found.

In the meantime, I continue to keep an eye open to these little works of art. During my visit to Gettysburg, I found one more piece to add to my collection. This time it cost me all of $12, and had more roses along with Victorian and Nouveau motifs. This one says, "Love One Another" - another scripture reference. And so my collection continues to grow as I search for bargain additions in my newest treasure hunt.

Vintage Wednesday: Opera Glasses

My collection of opera glasses - and I use the term "collection" loosely - began with a gift. My best friend presented me a stunning pair as a birthday gift with the instruction that I was to put it in my will that she receive them back upon my death. Yeah, they're THAT beautiful. And I do have a clause in my will with that bequest just because of her.

My opera glasses are silver, inlaid with mother of pearl, are from Paris at around the turn of the 19th Century and have a telescoping handle for optimal elegance. I've proudly carried them to the ballet, the symphony, the theater - pretty much anywhere I can get away with using them. And last year on a ~ahem~ "landmark" birthday, I returned the favor by giving her a pair from the same maker with a removable handle, inlaid in mother of pearl and in gold. Her first response? "She's just trying to get out of returning hers in her will!" She might be right.

I have a certain fascination with opera glasses. They evoke an opulence, an elegance that's not a part of my everyday life. I feel as if I should put on a long gown and gloves - not forgetting my opera length pearls - when using them. A carriage should arrive to take me to the theater where I preside over society from the comfort of my box... in my dreams of course.

Having started with such an elegant pair, I've not often felt the need to expand my collection. My only addition as of now is one with little birds on the side and that's really only because I got a good price and loved the birds. If you're looking to start a collection, you can expect to pay anywhere from ten to many thousands of dollars. I just peeked to see what's currently on ebay and there's a gold nouveau pair with diamond, sapphire and ruby bees on them for over $23,000. That's a tad bit out of my budget, but they're gorgeous!

When looking make sure the mechanism that allows them to focus is in working order. Also make sure the lenses aren't cloudy as I understand sometimes can happen with older pairs. If they're inlaid with mother of pearl, look for cracks that could lead to further damage.

I've very much enjoyed owning a little piece of history. Might you?

Vintage Wednesday: Collecting Samplers

My Mama can do anything. Now I know everyone thinks their Mama can do anything, but mine really can. Ask anyone who knows her and they'd probably agree. I'll never know as much as my Mama, but she did teach me a few things. For example, I was three years old when she first put a needle in my hand, threaded with neon yarn, and showed me how to pull the needle in and out of a piece of bright yellow fabric. From then on, I was hooked on needlework.

Needlework can take many forms: needlepoint, crewel embroidery, silk ribbon embroidery, cross stitch, counted cross stitch, French cut work, and on and on. Each cultivates a particular skill, but all involve precision with a needle. That's one of the reasons I love collecting embroidered pieces, but I especially love samplers.

Samplers of old (as in the 18th Century) usually chronicle a young girl's painstaking journey into the world of womanhood. Samplers prepared girls for the sewing tasks they'd be responsible for as they grew. They would usually start with an alphabet and numbers, could have a proverb and would have the name of the creator and date of creation. Older samplers were usually stitched on linen, which is why so many of them have survived. The Metropolitan Museum of Art has a very interesting article here if you're interested in learning more about early American needlework.

I can't afford to collect 18th Century samplers as they can cost thousands of dollars. I can, however, collect samplers such as those created in the resurgence of sampler creation in the 1940s and 1950s. My collection started with a sampler my grandmother made, "Friendship's a name to few confined, the offspring of a noble mind, a generous warmth that fills the breast and better felt than e'er expressed." I then began picking up random samplers because I either liked the subject matter or the saying - and these samplers cost under $10. The quality of the needlework varies - our 18th Century sisters were often more careful - but the charm is always evident. I don't have an extensive collection, but I enjoy hanging them around the house to remind me to "Let nothing disturb you, nothing affright you, all things are passing, God never changes." or "Come dear friend, come here and rest, you'll always be a welcome guest."

Vintage Wednesday: Halcyon Days Enamels

I come from a family of collectors. Each of us has different things we like to collect, and I'm probably the one with the most collections. Mama, however, has managed to limit her collections. Her favorite is her box collection.

I'm not sure when she began collecting boxes, but for many years wherever we would travel, we'd pick up another box. Windsor Castle? Check. San Francisco? Check. The Wedgewood factory in Stoke-on-Trent? Check. I've found that even when I'm traveling without her, I'm still looking for a box to commemorate the trip or mark an occasion.

By "box" I mean little trinket boxes that are just big enough to hold a few pieces of jewelry or little notes. They can be made of just about anything. One of my favorite lines is made by a company called Halcyon Days in England. The detail in their enamel boxes is amazing with many drawn from china patterns or that contain little sayings. My favorite, by far, is the Corgi box. If you know me, you'll understand why.

Vintage Wednesday: Vintage Postcard

It started with Maria Von Trapp - my obsession with collecting postcards that is. I was in the 6th grade and we had a celebrity auction to raise money for the school. I don't remember the celebrities the other kids chose, but I think I'd just read the book about the REAL Maria Von Trapp and decided to ask for her autograph for the auction. I don't really think I anticipated getting a response, but low and behold I received not one, but TWO signed postcards by return mail. She specified that one was for me and one was for the auction. And thus began my "official" postcard collection.

At one time, I collected postcards only from places I'd visited. Pittsburgh trip in the 8th grade to Point Park? Check. Fort Boonesborough in Kentucky? Check. Postcard of (then President) Jimmy Carter from a trip to Plains, Georgia? Check.

As I got older, however, I discovered the world of antique postcards. These are the cards with sprays of roses or bunches of violets. Some had Gibson Girls relaxing in riparian scenes. I especially loved the cards from Germany or France with their detail and mystique.

I loved reading the messages from decades before like, "can you take some time from work and meet me at the depot? I won't tell!" or "Sweet memories attend you throughout the day" or "The making of friends, who are real friends, is the best test of success in life." Faithfully yours, Ursa A. Hyde.

And sometimes there are words to live by:
"The chain of Friendship stretching far Links Days that were with Days that are."

Vintage Wednesday: Collecting China

I would have to say my love for collecting china is really not my fault. Really, it's not. You see, I come from a long line of women who love china.

I guess my first realization of this fact came when visiting my great aunt Beulah as a teenager. Aunt Beulah collected six china patterns before she died - one for each of her children. The last I remember her collecting was Royal Albert's Old Country Roses. And when I say collect, I mean she had at least eight place settings (Mama says at least 24 place settings because her dining table served 24) and assorted serving pieces for each set. She was prepared for all those children and grandchildren to gather around her table.

My mother carried on the china loving tradition. I believe she too has at least six different patterns in various colors and sizes, though there could be some tucked back that even I don't know about. We found a complete set of Franconia's Millefleurs (above with the silver) in one of our antique shop expeditions. In another adventure, we were treated like queens while picking out her Spode Christmas Rose (above with the green border) at Replacements, Ltd. in North Carolina - a mecca for finding old china patterns if you happen to be looking. But I think the most recent purchase has her the most excited - it's an old, hand painted Haviland Limoges pattern made somewhere between 1888 and 1896 that includes things like a covered gravy boat, various platters and even butter pats (see below, so hard to find!). She's even bought a china cabinet just to showcase this particular collection!

She's spent hours researching the name of this china and has only come up with the name of the blank - Marseille - and some clues about the "family" and possible date (1880s?). But in her research she's also found that Haviland hired Impressionist artists away from Paris to create the designs for their china. It's rumored that even the great Monet visited the Haviland factory studio. David Haviland set up an artists' studio in his china factory for artists he hired from Paris to create designs - some of which were hand painted. Her china is one of the patterns from this era. How wonderful!

My china collection began on my 16th birthday. That was my first gift of china, but not my last and I've got several patterns to show for it. I have one that's my go-to pattern for most meals. It's a cream on cream pattern. I got the bulk of it at Replacements in my mid-20s. It's Rosenthal's Sanssouci White and it does well in any season for any occasion. I like it so much, I've collected service for 24 just so I can have it to entertain larger crowds - and I have!

A couple years ago, however, I was perusing Rosenthal patterns on ebay and stumbled across Rosenthal's Vienna. I immediately sent it to Mama exclaiming over it's beauty. And, of course, that was Mama's Christmas present to me that year - eight gorgesous place settings with assorted fancy bits (like cream soup and berry bowls!) to go along.

The gold and the flowers evoke the "Age of Innocence" - even though it was probably produced in the late 1940s or early 1950s. The roses pop on a scarlet table cloth, and the blues, purples, pinks and greens make it easy to create an accompanying floral arrangement for a formal table.

I'm currently banned from brining more china in the house (though I've managed to sneak in some new after a recent trip to WV - from Mama of course). I'm sure, though, as soon as we have a little more room in our home, the bug will re-assert itself and I'll find another pattern I can cherish and grow... along with another china cabinet to fill. And if history serves as an example, Mama will be a contributing factor to my downfall. Because we can't help ourselves. We love the stuff!

Buttons... buttons... buttons....

To say I've had a life long love of buttons probably doesn't exactly convey the crazy little welling of joy when I "find" a new stash of these little jewels. I think anyone who loves buttons understands what I mean. It's somewhat irrational the temptation to take each find home, add it to your special button pile that's kept for only the best of projects. And forget looking on ebay. That's just asking money to pour from your pockets in waves... at least that's true for me.

The first place I remember treasure hunting is in my Mama's button box - the button box that was added to her mother's button box, that was added to her mother's button box, and on, and on. I come from a long line of button hoarders. I remember there being smaller boxes and prescription bottles where an attempt at sorting had taken place. Pearl buttons were with pearl buttons, six of the same button strung together with string and baby buttons gathered in a Sucrets tin. I'd pick through them and pull out the ones I liked best, sorting as I went (I'm more than a little OCD, I admit it).

Then there are specific instances I remember being with Mama and finding buttons that demanded a special outfit, or an outfit that demanded special buttons. One such sighting was in Asheville, NC in a yarn shop. They had these amazing pewter buttons with thistles that were something like $8 each. My high school budget certainly couldn't afford such an outrageous sum, and even begging garnered only 3 of these precious thistles that later found a home on one of Mama's creations. Then there were the special trips to G-Street Fabrics in Rockville, MD with their rows of shelves of buttons that completed more than one of my formal gowns and countless jackets.

These days I haunt estate sales and flea markets hoping to find that box of a lifetime - the one with the carved pearl, the czech glass, the painted glass, faceted jet - buttons that go beyond the brown and black of most button boxes. And after years of searching I remember only three sales that really blew me away. The best was the flea market in Fairmont, WV where I found two large boxes of buttons, one white, one multi-colored, sitting under a table offered for $10 for the lot. I snapped those up!

I'm often left relying on the kindness of strangers. I had a former co-worker who cleaned out her mother's house after her death who remembered I was "crafty" and offered me the leftovers of a lifetime of sewing. That gift included not only buttons, but yarns and notions and books on pattern drafting - all welcome additions to my collection.

Most recently, my mother-in-law heard that I was again collecting buttons to use in my jewelry design. I had finally found a way to incorporate my love of buttons into my need to create. She unearthed her golden tin of buttons collected as a child with HER grandmother by going to the local salvage yard and pulling buttons from discarded clothing.

So how about you? Do you keep your buttons in their original boxes? Are yours sorted in old prescription bottles? Did some of your collection come from your mother or grandmother? Did you string them when you were young? Do you design outfits around the most special of your collection?

Am I alone in my love of buttons? I doubt I am.