Lady Luck and the Secondhand Score

So, been fishing for any secondhand goodies lately? Was there one that got away? :)

Me, I've been cranking away on my second book, the sequel to my humorous science fiction book, There Goes the Galaxy (and if you know a sci-fi buff looking for a fun read, I'd really appreciate it if you'd pass the word along!-- folks can see it on Amazon here.) 

But in spite of all the good hard work, I've also left some time for treasure hunting. And some of the items I found were happy-making. 

Like the tinted little boy photo up there who reminds me of Tom Sawyer. I got him at an antique mall in Canonsburg, PA. I imagine he's from the early part of the 1900s.

More recently, there was this $10 vintage lamp from Rossi's Pop Up Flea Market.

When I asked about it, the seller told me the price and that he would also sell me the table it was sitting on for an additional $10. My answer was no, I didn't need the table, but I needed the lamp because I have Lamp Addiction.

Now, I've said this a million times on here, so I didn't think anything of it. My Lamp Addiction is fact. But for whatever reason it struck him so funny, he completely cracked up, patted me on the arm, and I heard him chuckling well after I was headed on to other booths.

See? Lamps are great-- they bring everybody together. :)

Across Route 30 from the flea market, I hit the Goodwill Outlet. That place never ceases to amaze me. It's such a bizarre experience rooting through those bins for goodies. And the things you'll find! In the pile of textiles below there's a vintage handkerchief, an apron, some doilies, and a number of pieces from Croscill (which is normally so expensive)-- like a table cloth, some pillow shams and a valance. The material alone is worth that.

I'd gone in there and hadn't gotten a cart, because I normally only end up choosing a handful of things. But then I found brand new items that were going to work perfectly in my Alice in Wonderland themed kitchen. Like these snack dishes in a card theme... And new in the box!...

Suddenly things were getting heavy. Then I found the matching glasses..

Also in the box...

I was juggling these items, just about ready to go, when a pleasant fellow shopper I'd been talking to earlier came over with a cart saying to me, "I've never seen anybody do such a thing," or something to that effect. I admit, I was grateful for the cart!

So, that's me showing you my hand for this game!... Hope you all have good luck in your weekend adventures and you get some good... (here comes the bad pun, brace for it)... deals.

Collecting Vintage Hankies? It's Nothing to Sneeze At

The history of the handkerchief goes back hundreds of years-- as the perfect way to dry tears, a gentle way to take care of a cold, and even as a way to catch the eye of that special fellow. More recently, with the introduction of facial tissues, it's also become a representation of a bygone era-- a symbol of comfort, of style, and of a less complex world. They've also become incredibly collectible.

Yesterday, a church rummage sale proved extremely lucky, hanky-wise. An entire box of hankies, of varying styles, colors and time periods. Forty-two in all, for ten bucks! And it was hitting this hanky motherlode that made me realize-- there was no better time than now to talk about those soft little cotton squares so many of us still love.

Simple white handkerchiefs... ones with tatting edges... some monogrammed... some delicately embroidered... Many in vivid color... Or showcasing the shades of the seasons... There's virtually no end to the options available.


The book Handkerchiefs: A Collector's Guide by Helene Guarnaccia and Barbara Guggenheim showcases a range of hankies like I've never seen before. Their collection shows handkerchiefs bearing everything from pets and popular cartoon characters, to souvenier handkerchiefs of the 50 states, hankies displaying airline first class menus, recipes, pop art, calendars, holidays, botanicals and so much more.


Why the variety? Well, according to the book, when facial tissues were invented in the 1920s, the hanky fell a bit out of favor as less sanitary. But after World War II, hankies had a big resurgence as a colorful yet inexpensive accessory. Priced at anywhere from fifteen cents to a dollar, hankies became a way to have a little fun shopping without breaking the bank. They were given as gifts to family and schoolteachers, and used as a way of expressing oneself.

Some women even collected specific handkerchief artists, and would wait for the next work in the artists' series. Popular artists over the years included Tammis Keefe, Carl Tait, Pat Prichard, Jeanne Miller and Tom Lamb.

Today, it's possible to find some lovely hankies at thrift stores for around the seventy-five cent to one dollar range. And at flea markets and antiques malls? They average $3 and up, depending on collectability.

Ones most commonly found are in the holiday and botanical lines. Here are two holiday hankies prepared to celebrate Christmas and St. Patrick's Day...


And one as a souvenir from sunny Florida....


It's interesting to see the different range of colors available on botanical hankies, too. These browns and aquas are actually appropriate for today's decorating trends...


Roses were popular in botanical handkerchiefs, though other flowers were done quite realistically, as well.


While some hankies have straight edges, many of them are scalloped, and some are actually round instead of square. Collectors may choose to purchase hankies based solely on their shape or type.


I love the depth and realism of these peonies. They appear to be almost hand-painted.


Embroidered flowers were popular decorations on hankies, as well. Note the different kinds of flowers included here: pansies, daisies and lily of the valley.

As gifts, hankies were sometimes tucked into what was called a hanky book. The book below was my mother's, given to her as a girl by a family friend...

The hanky-a-day included in this case, Mother Goose story characters where their clothing was made of a brand new hanky. Some were skirts, some overalls, some bibs...




Mom never had the heart to use them-- and I can certainly see why, when the book has such charm with the hankies intact.

For those interested in picking up a few hankies at your local thrift stores or flea markets, keep in mind, there are a lot of interesting things you can do with them, too. Consider ideas like:

• Using hankies in a similar color palette as unique cloth dinner napkins
• Frame them as wall art
• Sew them into a handkerchief quilt, a unique halter top, or a broomstick skirt
• Use them as a curtain pelmet
• Use them as doilies under a lamp or on an armchair

Pretty, collectible and functional... Vintage hankies take us back to a kinder, gentler era. I hope your coming week is kind and gentle to you, as well.

• Miss the fog creeping over Pittsburgh in last Treasure Box Wednesday? Click here.

Oh, and while I remember-- folks visiting here who also participate in Entrecard, you've probably noticed The Thrift Shop Romantic is now accepting Entrecard blog advertising. I'm mainly looking to include other home and garden blogs, thrift blogs, crafts, art, collectible and related hobby blogs. So I hope you'll check it out.

Aprons and Hankies: Time, Ties and Trends

Aprons and hankies. What is it about these vintage textiles that makes our hearts go pitty-pat like they do?

Is it the memories of our mothers, our grandmothers? I don't know. Grandma was a fan of the housecoat, and my dear mom was more inclined to find flour on her jeans than she was on any apron. And hankies, well, Mom received one each year as a gift from a beloved family friend. These remained squirreled away in a drawer for safe-keeping for a day that would never come. They were too precious to use, she said. Too important to tuck into a sleeve, to dare touch a nose in need. They existed entombed wood and in mothballs, waiting for some curious archaeologist to break them free some day. They belonged in a museum, not in daily life.

Well, maybe it's the texture. The soft, gentle feel of a handkerchief against the cheek. The starched, crispness of a crepey apron.


Perhaps it the color. Vibrant shades that call to mind the joy of culinary exploration. Of the smart reuse in a casserole. Of the order and art of a Jell-O mold.

Or maybe it's the patterns. A garden of flowers abound, and a year of holidays is celebrated, all in this fabric of the past.


But most likely, it's all of these, and more. As the years have passed, aprons and hankies have become symbols-- not of our oppression as wives, mothers, and career women and home-makers-- but of a gentler time. Of some idealized place in our minds and hearts where there's always something baking in the kitchen, and where good manners still exist, inviting you in to have a seat and a cup of tea. In a world that may feel cold, harsh and entirely too busy, aprons and hankies are tangible representations of the little niceties that bring comfort and stability, femininity and love.

It's probably a place that never really quite existed. The standards are just too high.



I still see Mom with the flour on her jeans, a box of Puffs in the kitchen. But as I make her Crock-pot potroast this morning, to simmer all day, the scent wafting through the house the way I did the home in which I grew up three decades ago, the aprons and hankies still somehow say what needs to be said. Here's me, cooking in my pajamas, of all things. Not bothering to style my hair first. To put on heels. To tie that apron to my waist. But the hankies adorn a table top. An apron might serve as a valance.

They make me happy to see because they say the niceties are still here. With us. Ready to make home a place worth coming back to. They're just a little bit different now.

Well, that's all for today. If you missed my Wednesday feature "Good Books and New Blogs" you might want to click here to check that out. That has a fun little tag, as well as an announcement about new bloggy goodness. And maybe I'll see you THIS Wednesday as we have another "Treasure Box" feature which showcases some finds uncovered in the South Hills. (Yes, I actually wasn't snowed on and made it out to the thrifts this week!) Take care, my nice invisible friends. Thanks for being there.