Showing posts with label vintage books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vintage books. Show all posts

Monday, 1 October 2012

Magpie Monday - How to be beautiful

Just a quick Magpie Monday post to show a few books I've found recently. This Warne's Pleasure Book for Girls was published in 1933 and makes a nice addition to my collection. It was £3.00 from a charity bookshop in the Lake District.


What's that Lassie? Gertrude's fallen down an abandoned well?

The stories include 'The Unlucky Hockey Stick', 'Barbara's Speed Boat' and 'The Queer one of the Family' and suggest the usual mix of school shenanigans, high drama and unintentional hilarity.

I also found this 1988 Bunty annual for 40p, which contains a rather alarming story about a group of school boys attempting to obtain their (foxy) matron's vital statistics so they can buy her a new dress. When they're not hiding in her wardrobe, they're 'accidentally' bumping into her so that someone can sneak up on her with a tape measure! It's all a bit Benny Hill.


[click to enlarge pictures]


Finally a few extracts from a book I found at a carboot sale. It's called 'What Every Woman Should Know', and is a collection of clippings from the Daily Mail of the 1930s. 

Liz Jones: how to look snooty


There are plenty of handy household hints -  "sour milk makes a good cleaner for gilt picture frames" - recipes, and indepth analysis of the latest fashions; "blouse jackets are trumps for Autumn". I think my favourite part is the beauty pages though - woe betide the fashionable 30s woman who attempted to wear the latest 'tip-tilted hats' with 'the least suspcicion of a double chin' or with 'sagging cheek muscles'. Charming phrases such as 'bingo wings' and 'cankles' had yet to be invented, but it seems there was no shortage of imaginary flaws to focus on. Do you know anyone who suffers with "that fleshy lump at the back of the neck that is so disfiguring"? If contorting yourself between two mirrors proves that you are indeed afflicted - don't worry. 'It can be eradicated by the right exercise'.


If your face is OK but your figure lets you down - why not take up ice skating this winter? Personally I don't know anyone who puts on 8lbs in the summer which they then  lose in the winter - salad vs stew, I don't think so - but if this is your problem you'll be pleased to know that 'as you skate the flesh is actually massaged away between hips and ribs'.


Sadly I don't have much time for daily skating - am I doomed to be fat?


Yes.

Lakota x


Sharing this post with Liz at Magpie Monday and Thrift Share Monday
Don't forget it's Ta-dah! Tuesday here tomorrow.

Monday, 24 October 2011

Flea Market Finds

Just a couple of things to show you, but I'm very pleased with one of them, enough to risk ruining my manicure to get it looking how I want! First of all a couple more books to add to the collection, both from the local hospice shop and 60p and 30p respectively. Both are from the 1960s.



Super stylish heroine

As well as exciting stories like 'Chewing Gum and Sheep' (makes you want to read on, doesn't it?), Dean's Premier Book for Girls also has several craft projects, from making your own pot-pourri to creating a groovy 'trinket tree' out of swizzle-sticks! I thought that the big patchwork resurgence was very much a 70s thing, so maybe the readers of this book were the early adopters of the craze - learning as teens and continuing to make everything out of hexagons as they set up home a few years later.



Cath Kidston's new book wasn't quite what Jane had expected...

 These buttons were from a car boot sale, they appear to be real snakeskin and I have no idea how old they are or what I'll do with them, but they just caught my eye!

Scaly

Finally, we went to Dulwich village on Saturday (a well-heeled kind of area, nice independent shops and a few market stalls like a one street Portobello) and had a wander round with the kids. They have limited patience for shopping, although Boy1 found a Ben10 DVD in the hospice shop, so I rewarded his rummaging and bought it for them. He also enjoyed coming into a make-shift changing room made of blankets in the market, where I tried on a 50s dress and he wondered loudly whether it felt strange to be getting undressed outside.

Down a side street I discovered a very nice vintage shop, where his brother decided to show us up by bellowing "I'm going out now, it's too SMELLY in here!", right in front of the owner. It wasn't even bad, just a little musty - they sold bric-a-brac rather than clothes. She didn't seem too offended, and I redeemed our family by buying a printers' tray. I've wanted one for ages, as my earring collection is outgrowing its current home in a cigar box and I've seen fantastic makeovers to turn them into jewellery storage. It's a bit cobwebby, but not too filthy, and should clean up nicely. I just need to sand it, wax it, maybe add some backing paper and buy and somehow screw in a gazillion little hooks...

Or I could fashion something out of swizzle-sticks...


Finally, check me branching out into beauty blogging! This is my somewhat lame attempt at the classic 'swatch' shot to show off a nail varnish colour, and I thought I'd share it as it was a win. Special K is probably the most expensive breakfast cereal on the market, and I usually buy the supermarket's own version, but as they had a promotion running to win a limited edition Nails inc polish, I bought a box so I could enter. [My Nails inc obsession is well documented]. They're giving away 100 every day, so the odds are pretty good - I won first time! It's a really beautiful classic stand out red - well worth adding to your collection. And there's a blingy lid too, for the magpies amongst us. [Er, that'd be everyone, right?]




I'll spare you the picture of my matching pedicure.

Lakota x

PS. Check out my Facebook page, I'll be running a giveaway on there soon.

Linking up to Flea Market Finds
                     Magpie Monday
                     Thrift Share Monday
                     Nifty Thrifty Tuesdays

Thursday, 20 October 2011

The Weekend Book - then and now

A couple of years ago I bought a book entitled The Wonderful Weekend Book: Reclaim Life's Simple Pleasures (by the late Elspeth Thompson). It was what I'd describe as a 'Sunday Supplement' type of book, lovely to read and aspirational, but I'm not sure I'd remembered a great deal of it since my first perusal. However, I was reminded of it recently when I found this 1928 edition of The Week-End Book (first published in 1924) at a car boot for 10p, and I thought it would be interesting to compare and contrast the two. Would ideas on how to get the most out of your weekend have changed, or have things come full circle since the roaring twenties?


My original 20s book was actually reprinted in 2006 and is available from Amazon, although rather naughtily none of the information they give makes it clear that it's a reproduction and that all the information is some eighty years out of date! However, I suppose a clue could be gleaned from the quoted reviews - if you were paying attention:

'Everybody is talking about it...I wonder how I ever spent a week-end without
it...It will go with us wherever the Oxford Book of English Verse goes. 
The authors have thought of everything' - Daily Telegraph

'I say! Have you seen THE WEEK-END BOOK?' - Guardian

'The jolliest all-round companion that has appeared in print for many years' - Evening News

Sadly The Oxford Book of English Verse is no longer considered an automatic travelling companion for a weekend away, despite the editors' suggestion that it should be 'carried in the opposite pocket' to their own publication! Indeed, The Week-end Book does not skimp on the poetry, and offers a multitude of lesser known verses, under the headings 'Great Poems,' Hate Poems', 'State Poems', 'Epigrams' and 'The Zoo'.



*******

There is also the assumption that every weekend gathering will end in song, and the scores and lyrics for numerous - now obscure - ditties are also included.  My karaoke obsessed former neighbours also liked to round off their weekend that way, although they never sang 'O Good Ale, Thou Art My Darling'. [This did appear to be the case, however]. My modern book doesn't include poems and songs, but one of the author's suggestions for a weekend activity is to 'Start an Anthology'. She had recently found the hard-book notebook where she collected favourite quotes, lyrics and poetry during her teens, and I like the idea of being your own editor, and compiling a miscellanea that's completely personal - even if mine would have just been full of Pearl Jam lyrics and quotes from Heathers.

Here's the blurb for The Wonderful Weekend Book :

"It's the Weekend!
Forget supermarket aisles, traffic jams and chores. 
Instead, reinstate the tea party, write proper letters, 
celebrate the seasons with local or home-grown food 
and drink, or even take your neighbour's dog for a 
walk. This book is packed with ideas that will help 
restore the balance in your life, reconnect you to the
 seasons and other people, and - quite literally - 
not cost the earth."

Thompson suggests things to do year round - from the unlikely 'learn the ukulele' to the more achievable watching the sunset, and has chapters on 'seasonal pleasures'; filled with fairly obvious suggestions such as making chutney in Autumn, beach-combing during the Summer or learning to knit in the Winter months. She also campaigns to 'Bring back Sunday' as a day of rest and contemplation, and suggests switching off the laptop and going on an email and mobile detox for the day - not a problem back in 1928. Recipes for leisurely breakfasts, plus seasonal delights such as pancakes, Simnel cake, and marmalade are interspersed throughout, whereas the older book has an entire section on what to cook for your weekend guests.The recent 'Slow' revival would wholeheartedly agree with advice that weekend food is excellent when "put on before you go off to tennis or to lazing".


However, nowhere in the 20s book is it suggested that you spend your time making marmalade - the main piece of wisdom I came away with was this:

"DON'T cook and attempt to eat YOUNG BRACKEN SHOOTS because the Japanese do. What suits the hardy races of the extreme East may not suit you"

Oh, and I feel I should share these vintage cocktail recipes too, if only to prove that foolish binge drinking is not a recent undertaking for the Brits:

MR SUTTON'S GIN-BLIND (to be drunk with discretion): Six parts gin, three parts curacao, two parts brandy and a dash of orange bitters

RAJAH'S PEG: A claret glass of brandy in a pint of dry champagne

*******


Camping or 'Travels with a Donkey' (not literally) gets its own chapter in The Week-end Book, and has maintained its popularity since. The respective lists of essential kit are pretty much identical - although a 'tea-infuser' was considered vital back in the day. The Wonderful Weekend Book has a couple of suggestions for games to play in the car en-route to your destination - the older book has an entire chapter on everything to entertain any number of chaps; and whether to be played on paper or with improvised sporting equipment, all are wonderfully complicated and archaic sounding - Tishy-Toshy or Up-Jenkyns anyone? Helpfully, the end papers of the book are printed to allow you to play Draughts at the front, and something called Nine Men's Morris at the back.


There are also blank pages to record your own favourite poems, recipes and games, as well as Favourite Inns and Train Times.



The chapter on first aid remedies one might require on a weekend jaunt is probably the furthest away from what we would recognise now. These days you might pack some paracetamol, and maybe a small kit with some antiseptic and plasters if going camping. In the 20s book the remedies are supposedly all things which you could easily obtain from a chemist without prescription - although these days you'd probably want a pharmacology degree. 

"Good against the Sting of all insects, including Midges and Mosquitoes,
 is the application, with a pencil of camel's hair, of an 
analgesic blended of Acid Carbolic gr.v, Tr Iodidi mx, 
Potass. Iodidi gr.x and Aqua dest ad 3i"

There is a lot in The Week-End Book which is pleasingly tongue-in-cheek, though I have no idea whether a 'pencil of camel's hair' was likely to have been carried in the same pocket as the poetry, or whether this is a joke! 

*******

As shown by the newspaper reviews from the time, and subsequent new editions, The Week-End Book was seized upon as a marvellous idea and a great success. The modern book was generally well received, although a few reviewers complained that considering the onus is supposedly on 'simple' pleasures - the writer is fairly obviously writing for a relatively monied audience. It's all very well to suggest clothes swaps and buying second hand, but if you're having one of her 'quiet nights in', I did notice that her catalogue of lounge wear suppliers includes Toast, The White CompanyPlumo and Celtic Sheepskin - none of which are a budget option. The Primark adult onsie does not get a mention.



Giant novelty head not included

Others took exception to her section on the 'problems' of having a second home - it is hard to have much sympathy, but it's only a small paragraph really, and she does admit that you can only really complain about the travelling/packing/traffic to someone else in the same position. Someone in living below the poverty line in Hackney might not be readily able to afford linen lounging pants from The White Company, but hedgerow foraging, mushroom picking and star-gazing - whilst technically free - are also not immediately easy to achieve if you live in a very urban area, no matter what your financial situation. I'm not sure you can write a book where every suggestion will be practical for everyone, so a lot of these complaints seem churlish to me.

If Amazon had existed in 1928, who knows whether we would also have seen reviewers complaining that The Week-End Book was aimed squarely at the upper middle class. Did everyone have a weekend cottage, or friend with the same? Did everyone have the same expanse of leisure time - unencumbered by household maintenance, or small children who would prohibit the playing of tennis and drinking of cocktails? It seems unlikely, but I like to think so - I just love the glamour of the 20s and 30s. Come and join me for Tishy-Toshy in the Country - I'll pour us all a Satan's Whisker* before the singing starts!

Lakota x


*Of Italian vermouth, French vermouth, gin and orange juice, two parts each; of Grand Marnier one part; orange bitters

Sunday, 17 July 2011

Church Fete Finds...

Just a quick post today to finally show a few retro kitchen bits and pieces I've picked up recently, some bargain books and a couple of pieces of jewellery sent to me by the lovely Jem of Beautiful Clutter. I popped to a church fete a few weekends ago, and in addition to winning half their tombola prizes I had a quick look at the bric-a-brac stall and spotted this vintage 'Nutbrown' rotary herb chopper. [At least that's what is according to ebay. The woman who sold it to me for 10p seemed to think it was an egg slicer]. I think I bought it remembering that someone collects red-handled kitchen implements - is it you Loo? And if so, do you want it?


Metal fish mould, mini forks for pickles and h'or d'oeuvres and an erm, implement.


Early 80s Readers Digest British nature books

The book stall was worth a rummage too. As well as a few paperbacks for 20p each, I found these beautifully illustrated guides to birds, flowers and trees of Britain. They were a bargain at 50p each, but I'm not sure about the wisdom of using them as 'Field Guides', a trio of hardbacks would be rather a hindrance to any country walking I might be inclined to do. Perhaps proper ramblers think nothing of filling their rucksacks with several kilograms of encyclopaedia.

Finally I found this 'spooky skinny arm' (as Mr FHCS refers to it) in a charity shop in central Croydon. It's currently displaying a trio of bracelets made from a broken vintage necklace (restrung by Jem) and a brooch with a white cabochon stone and marcasite sparkles. Thanks so much Jem. [Do check out her blog, she has beautiful photographs and some lovely finds.] The picture is one from my stash of family photos - and shows Artie and Belle posing together in 1929. I'm not sure exactly how we're related, but I do think Artie is a fantastically dapper chap, I'm loving the hankie and pocket-watch chain, and he is rocking that moustache, eh ladies?



Bella and Edward
Belle and Artie
I've managed to resist the lure of the laptop a little better this week so haven't done quite as much blog visiting as usual, but normal service will no doubt be resumed soon. After all, St Swithun has decreed we're in for another 40 days of rain, so doesn't look like any of us in the UK will be getting out much. I think I'm finally ready to send my swap parcel to the very patient Amy at Blighty Boutique, so I will at least have to brave a trip to the post office. Someone suggested that I try and do a linky post so everyone can share their swaps, so  if anyone has any tips on how to set that up please let me know!

Lakota x

Linking to Flea Market Finds
Magpie Monday

Saturday, 2 July 2011

Anniversary outing

The Mr and I celebrated 8 years of marital bliss last Tuesday, so being the thoughtful and caring wife that I am, I thought he'd like a look round a market and a load of vintage shops. Oh no, hang on...that's what I wanted, and he kindly acquiesced to my suggestion when I pointed out we could have curry for lunch and he could take his camera and get gritty East London shots. So, a romantic stroll around the grimy environs of Shoreditch it was.



I hadn't been to Spitalfields Market for absolutely ages, and was pleased to discover that although it was a Tuesday, stall holders were setting up and it wasn't just the shops around the edges which were open. There are some really nice pitches there, and the stall holders were all friendly. I bought this necklace from a charming Afghani man with a great sales patter, although I may have a go at making these myself - they're basically just scarf material stitched into a tube, and the material alternately threaded through and covering the beads.

necklace / hair band / belt

I also picked up these photo prints of vintage Vogue covers, which I'm going to put up in the bedroom. They also had photographs of local street art and landmarks, but we've been taking our own shots of those to mount and frame.


The best stall for me though was the one selling antiquarian books, especially given all my whinging about London vintage prices these days. I know that old books like this are probably not going to provide a pension, but the most I paid was £4, and that was for the Partridge's Children's Annual dating from 1922. The other hardbacks were £3 each, and all have their beautiful colour plates intact and the binding is in pretty good condition considering their age. A similar book would cost between £12 and £25 on Ebay. I kept expecting the seller to say that he'd made a mistake with the pricing!

 Blackie's annual is c1935
Partridge's 1922
Haven't been able to date the Kiddies' annual - maybe 50s?


I also picked up the book below for £1, it's the second part of a poetry anthology for children, originally published in 1906. I'm not sure when this little paper back edition came out - it was possibly a school textbox - but probably not much later, it includes all the press reviews from 1906, and was priced at 'threepence'. I'd love the hardback original one day, if anyone comes across it!


Like my dad and I, my eldest is a big fan of poetry, so it's been nice to be able to share some of the poems thought suitable for children 100+ years ago. It includes a frankly terrifying one called The Dreadful Story of Harriet and the Matches, which should possibly be read in schools round Guy Fawkes night:

"And see! Oh! what a dreadful thing!
The fire has caught her apron-string;
Her apron burns, her arms, her hair;
She burns all over, everywhere.

...So she was burnt , with all her clothes, 
And arms, and hands, and eyes and nose:
Till she had nothing more to lose
Except her little scarlet shoes;
And nothing else but these were found
Among her ashes on the ground."
(Heinrich Hoffman)

I also felt for the narrator of Little Girls - "If no-one ever marries me - / And I don't see why they should,/ For nurse says I'm not pretty / And I'm seldom very good" - and enjoyed A Boy's Aspirations, which listed a four year old's ideas for when he was 'quite old':

"I'll never go to bed until twelve o'clock;
I'll make a mud pie in a clean frock;
I'll whip naughty boys with a new birch;
I'll take my guinea-pig always to church;

...I'll never stand up to show that I'm grown;
No-one shall say to me, 'Don't throw a stone!'
I'll drop my butter'd toast on the new chintz;
I'll have no governess giving her hints!"
(Menella Bute Smedley)

The fashion and schooling may have changed, but the general defiance and mess seems to have stayed the same!

Anyway, enough of the English lit (my degree, sorry) and on to the shops! As well as being the old Jewish quarter - a famous 24 hr bagel bakery still survives, and is the best food for under a pound in the area - and current heartland of the Bangladeshi community in London, Brick Lane is also home to probably the largest concentration of London's vintage and retro shops in one area.



 Of course, a lot of what's on offer it is overpriced, but if you can't find what you're looking for here, you're probably not trying. Each shop has a different vibe, and some are certainly friendlier than others. Absolute Vintage is a famous one, although to my mind I'd rather work through a charity shop and hope to strike lucky than rummage in this place. So much of the stock is battered and filthy, yet they treat the customers as though they are offering them a rare glimpse at top secret couture designs for next season. There are signs everywhere warning you against filming, photography and even drawing; and I saw staff going through someone's phone to delete a quick snap taken of a bag. I'm sure plenty of fashion students come in, hence the 'no sketching' rule, but I can't imagine they clutter the place up that much, and surely are just the type of people who would be regular customers. I wouldn't be surprised to see 'No Looking' signs next time, and felt guilty using my eyes to, y'know, observe the merchandise. They do have a vast array of vintage shoes though, arranged by size, which is always handy.

Other good shops are This Shop Rocks, which had a 50% off sale, and a cluttered basement area with unsorted bric-a-brac as well as clothes  (I found something for my swap partner Amy here) and The Vintage Emporium and Coffee House. This has mainly antique clothes downstairs - Victorian to 1930s, including a selection of furs, if that's your thing - and a Coffee and Tea room upstairs, filled with antiques. Then there's Rokit, which is the polar opposite of Absolute Vintage, and has washed/dry-cleaned and labelled everything. Ok, you may lose the thrill of the chase somewhat, but they do have lovely stock, and the clothes prices aren't that bad really (although the jewellery is very over-priced). The staff are far nicer too! I found this late 60s Woodstock style top there, which may form part of my outfit for friends' 60s themed wedding in August. I've just mentioned a small selection of the vintage places, there are many more!



I'll share some more street art and graffiti pictures in another post, but here's some of the illustrations out of the children's books I bought. Most of the stories are equally charming, although it still comes as a shock to come across the odd story or rhyme featuring the unenlightened attitudes of the time. Obviously I don't want my boys learning certain racial slurs, so unfortunately they can't be for general reading. I'm still looking for prints to frame, but as these are in such good condition I think I'll scan them and print them rather than take them out of the books.

From The Golden Staircase, illustration for Wynken, Blynken and Nod




Illustration to a rhyme called 'Tangled' which made me laugh as it reminds me of my 3 year old
who's just been for yet another haircut.


Lakota x

PS. I've had loads of comments about people sorry to have missed the swap. If everyone's up for it, maybe we could do another around Christmas?

Linking up to Flea Market Finds
Thrift Share Monday

Monday, 30 May 2011

Fancy...

We took the kids to a local carnival and funfair yesterday, and between watching the local cheer-leading squad and being deafened by the boys clanging the bell on the train ride, I sneaked off and looked at some of the bric-a-brac stalls. All I picked up was a book for 20p, but it's a good one - Fancy Dress for Children by the marvellously named Barbara Snook. 

Ms Snook is full of ideas for all kinds of outfits, but the whole book is basically sketches. There's the odd pointer as to materials, but no detailed instructions. For example, the Demon King's crown is captioned 'Black with red jewels, fruit gums on fine wire'. Or you could send your child off to the party dressed as a crab - only gardening gloves, tights and ping-pong balls stand between her and that first place rosette.

Costume designers on Doctor Who started here

There are lot of costumes based on slightly dubious cultural stereotypes - Sheiks, Rajahs and Gypsies abound, and basis of their apparel is apparently night attire. We are told sternly that the pyjama coat and trousers of a Mexican should NOT match, a blue coat and apricot pants are often worn together. And I imagine that only in 1969 would a book suggest that a child go to a party dressed as a cigarette!

I particularly love the hairdressing hint 

Where this book excels though, is in the unexpected costume. We've all seen a toddler look adorable as a ladybird or bee, but when you get that letter home from Nursery explaining that Ruby is to be a limpet in the Nautical Nativity, where do you turn? Why, page 89 of course!

Poor big sister seaweed looks rather sulky.
That would have been me.

Cute as a butterfly bum is, don't forget the tights.

How about a Belisha Beacon* costume for a tall skinny child? Or a Saucepan, on the Boil, made from corrugated cardboard, with cotton wool spilling out from the top. Snook helpfully suggests that 'This can be worn by a very plump child'. 

Eley Kishimoto S/S 2011


In the introduction, we're told that 'the essence of a successful fancy dress is in its immediate identification. It may be witty, even topical, but never obscure'. Hmm. There's nothing esoteric about a child sprouting footware from every limb. I'm sure we could all immediately identify him as a nationwide chain of chemists...


And what about the child wearing a top-hat and tails, carrying crampons and an ice-pick? Why of course! A Social Climber! I can also just picture the 6 year old Chaucer fan begging to go as the Wife of Bath, as opposed to a Princess. Who wouldn't want a necklace of bath-salts and pumice stone?


I leave you with my absolute favourite though - the Bird Table! Put aside the horror with which a small child wearing peanuts would be greeted at most school events - and consider the craft implications. 'The success of this SIMPLE costume depends on the care taken to model each bird accurately'. Yeah, cos constructing a lifelike goldfinch, blue-tit and sparrow from papier-mâché and feathers needs no tutorial...



Sigh. Another parenting fail.
Lakota x



* A flashing light on a pole, to indicate a street crossing

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