Tag Archives: shabby

Talent on a Wordless Wednesday

1 Aug

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Not completely wordless, of course. For me that’s impossible. But I’m stuck at NTB with a nail in my tire, so I decided to finally take a minute to show you the work of one talented woman: Sari Jane, my across-the-aisle neighbor at Homestead.

She and daughter Dawn are fountains of creativity. They design jewelry and the most gorgeous lampshades I’ve ever seen. Right now there is a beautiful hanging lamp in their space. And because I’m the nosy type, I had to stick my head under the shade just to look at its innards. Its underbelly is perfection! These women pay strict attention to detail, as you can see in the photos of the precious trike.

I love them both. Like their lampshades, they are beautiful inside and out. They and their work are huge sources of inspiration.

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Pretty as a picture

24 Feb

Beauty is, indeed, in the eye of the beholder.

See? I haven’t given up the love for shabby whites…

Player piano rolls find a new home in an old night stand/side table. Call it whatever you want. You want it to be a kitchen island? OKAY!

Just shy of a complete set of silverplate. I can’t resist it.

A witch’s hat Victrola horn. Wouldn’t it make an excellent hanging light?  All it needs is a little ol’ light kit.

Near miss today: A cubby, very similar to this one, only not green, for $3. I kid you not. I was so bummed I tried calling the person who bought it to see if she would sell it to me. Alas, no answer.

My pretties…

1 Feb

Finally snapped some photos of my space at Homestead.  The re-do was a long time coming.  Right now there’s only one layaway piece still in my space.  And I really need to purchase more smalls to fill it completely, but it’s on the road to recovery …

Ironically, this piece isn’t in the shop yet!  But…it is a perfect example of irony.  I keep lots of white stuff in the shop, so I thought it only fitting to bring in a brown thing that says “White.”  It’s a White sewing machine cover.  The rubber band’s around it because I had to do some repair work.  It’s in shabby condition, but it’s one of those things I’m drawn to for reasons even I don’t understand.  Bought this baby in Warrenton…LAST spring.  That’s how long I’ve been sitting on it.  Time for it to go to the shop.  Bye-bye, my pretty.

This is, perhaps, my favorite corner of my universe.  I could just sit and stare at it.  I want to move in.  If I had a bed or even a comfy chaise, I might never leave.

Another shot of my comfy corner.  “Feels like home.  I should’ve known from my first breath.” — Martin L. Gore (not talking about my space, of course…)

The curious thing about this photo is why haven’t the old song books sold?  Usually any kind of songbook flies out of the shop. The ones on top of the piano have been in the shop for a few weeks which  leads me to believe some of my regular customers haven’t been in for a while…

Antique baby buggy…old wicker, great wheels … floating on a fluffy petticoat. 

This little desk is another piece I held onto for a little longer — try two years — than I should have.  It’s beautiful.  And it has a place in my living room if it doesn’t sell…even though my living room is mid-century modern.  Go figure.

Ah-ha! Irony at it’s finest:  A baby dress that wasn’t originally brown hanging inside a frame that was originally brown.  What can I say?  If I had a baby girl, framed tea-stained baby clothes would cover the walls in her nursery.

Another C-List purchase.  This one, thankfully, was already white.  It’s petite with aqua paint peeking through in places.

Lovely old etched mirror, thread bundles, zippers…

I’m stopping before I completely wear out my welcome.  It’s all drippy and dreary outside today.  Maybe I should run to the shop for a bit just to gaze at my warm, comfy corner.  May the sun shine down on us soon!  And if you’re painting brown things white, my your paint dry quickly!!

It’s like rain…on your wedding day.

30 Jan

Rain on your wedding day may be unlucky.  It may suck.  But it isn’t really ironic. And that line from that song has always bothered me.  Trust me. I’ve been pondering irony as of late, since I’ve been spending the better part of my days turning brown things white and white things brown.  That, my friend, is irony.  And when you work up a sweat putting on that third coat of paint just so you can sand it off…yes, irony again.

As for brown things turning white:

And white things turning brown:

No, that’s not another one of my scary boiled dinners.  Those are baby dresses being tea-stained.

I’ve been slowly restocking shop space.  Tomorrow I’ll put a camera to it and post some pictures.  Oh, and an update to my last post…the C-List lounge chair?  Finally heard from the sellers.  Bought that baby. Took that baby to the shop.  Sold it a few days later.  But I can tell I’m still out of practice.  I missed a fantastic wire-mesh and iron 3-seater at the flea market last weekend.  Someone bought it for $50 after I walked right past it (still loaded in the vendor’s truck).  THEN…I saw it on C-List for $175!   Talk about bad luck…with maybe a bit of irony mixed in for fun…

The Lloyd Dobler of Lighting

1 Jun

It seemed like any other morning at the flea market, except that I arrived about an hour earlier than usual, fully expecting to drop all my cash on ephemera.  I rushed to see what trouble I could get into, only to find out that the ephemera bonanza is slated for next week…oh, well…plenty of other junk to buy, right?  I began making my pile, which included this really cute child’s piano.  After carting a few things to the minivan, I returned to claim the piano I’d purchased earlier, only to find out that another woman really wanted it.  Scratch that.  REALLY wanted it.  But for the price I’d paid.  Okay.  My business head told me to take the piano to the shop and put a good price on it.  My heart said otherwise, so I ended up giving it to the woman who’d eyed it for herself and netting $10 and a nice hug in the process.  My hope was that good karma would come my way, which is always my hope when I do something I think is nice.  I did buy a few other things at the flea market, including a couple of clip-on ruffly lamp shades that I thought might work on some lamps I purchased last week.

So… after I made a drop at the shop, I went home to spend some quality time with the boys.  Here comes the first bit of karmic news:  I had a phone call from the shop that I’d had a big day.  I’d sold lots, including the pair of lamps I gushed about in my last post.  So, okay, I could replace those lamps with the lamps I bought last week, paired with the shades I’d purchased this morning:

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Only problem was…one of the lamps needed a new socket.  So after taking my son to a movie, I decided to drop by the home improvement store with which I have a love-hate relationship.  My younger son used to love to go there with me because ORANGE was his favorite color.  Now I feel trapped by the place, because the local hardware store went out of business, and this establishment is practically in my backyard.  Anyway…I’m looking for a socket.  Enter center stage — the Lloyd Dobler of Lighting.  Quite possibly the nicest, most decent man on the face of this planet.  His first mistake was to ask me if I needed help.  And — just for the record — I was not looking or smelling my best since I still retained that just-jumped-out-of-bed-and-headed-to-the-flea-market, vintage smell. But he was nice to me.  Made me feel like 100 bucks.  He directed me to the correct socket, which was not the one I chose on my own.  Then he patiently answered all my questions as best he could before directing me to follow him around the corner to a work table where he proceeded to fix my lamp for me!  I mean really.  This is the store where everyone seems to disappear as soon as I need assistance.  K.A.R.M.A. 

It was a big job, much more than a simple socket was required.  He worked patiently for almost two hours in that “I’m Lloyd Dobler” way that only can be appreciated by Say Anything fans.  If I’d tried to fix that lamp at home, I would’ve been in tears and the lamp would’ve been in the garbage.  But Lloyd, whose name is Clint Walker in real life, worked diligently without a single slip of profanity.  I’ve never witnessed anyone, myself included, remain so calm under such annoying repair circumstances.  I think I’m in love.

I KNOW I’m in love with the new switch he installed:

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I know…beautiful, right?!  AND functional!!

We parted with a quick hug and lots of thank yous on my part.  It wasn’t until later that I remembered the piano incident this morning and wondered if this was my karmic payback.  Or pay forward.  Whichever.  All I know is sometimes it’s about more than just making a buck.

You light up my life

29 May

I’ve entered my lamp-lovin’ phase, I think.  I don’t have many lamps in my home.  I know, I know…I really should.  But the only actual lamps I can think of are in my bedroom, my younger son’s bedroom and our dining room.  My house has pathetic lighting to begin with, so I could use some extra bulbs burning brightly, or dimly, or alternating between the two.  Over the past week, I’ve purchased nine lamps.  Two floor lamps, a pair of matching bedside lamps that need to be rewired, three matching lamps with girly-girl shades, a very shabby lamp that I topped with a perfectly ratty old shade and some crystals and immediately took to the shop, and a Rembrandt lamp that I intend to keep.  Here’s a peek at the Rembrandt lamp:

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Isn’t she lovely?  I have a friend that rewires lamps, so she’s going to take a look at her for me.  She’s a keeper, for sure.

So maybe my lamp phase is colliding with my fussy, frilly feminine phase, ’cause I also took a liking to these:

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They have the prettiest little rose details:

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I’m in love…BUT…they’re going to the shop tomorrow.  Their mate will stay at my house for the time being, however, but not forever.  Here she is:

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One more view of the lampshade:

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Okay…maybe ONE more:

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Now I’m done gushing.  So what do you think?  Have I gone mad?  One last photo before I hit the hay.  This is one of a couple of floor lamps I got at auction:

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Now it’s time to turn OUT the lights.  The party’s over…

Junking my way into Blogland

9 Mar

Let’s start by getting something straight:  I’m unorganized.  And it shows.  It starts in my wallet, crammed with receipts I’ll never look at; extends to my handbag, which I’m embarrassed to open at checkout counters, so I carry my money in my pocket (which negates the need for a handbag altogether, you might say.  My what a vicious circle!); moves to my minivan, then sneaks past me into my house.  One time I actually let a friend have a peek inside my bedroom closet.  Then I showed her my husband’s closet.  “This,”  I admitted, “showcases our fundamental differences.”  My husband is neat as a pin most of the time.  Still, he puts up with my disorganization and rarely says a word about it.  When I was working in public relations, our company had a staff training which included an exercise where we had to line up based on our answers to a personality survey.  Needless to say, all the creative people were lined up at one end, while the accounting staff, etc. made up the other end of the line.  We (mostly the communications staff) started discussing the status of our purses and cars, and bonded over our neatnessless.  As someone once said, “A dirty house is the sign of a boring life.”  I concur.

But enough about all that, now!  If you are reading this, you probably wonder what organization has to do with Junkology.  The answer:  I don’t know!  All I know for sure is my pack-rat tendencies tend to benefit my need to create and re-purpose.  Where would I be without all those celluloid mirror frames devoid of their mirrors?  What about all those little mermaid swizzle sticks?  They worked beautifully in an under-the-sea piece of altered art.  Which leads me to another one of my character traits:  buying out complete collections.  For example, last fall at the Warrenton antiques show, I only wanted a couple of black rolling pins, but ended up with 36 of those babies when the dealer offered me a deal I just couldn’t refuse.  Same thing with a batch of test tubes.  I still don’t know what I’m going to do with all those little glass vials.  At Halloween, I filled them with vintage fortune cards and sealed them with a button and instructions to “break glass for fortune.”  Seemed like a good idea at the time!  I’d welcome any ideas you have for the rest of my little vials, which number at least 50.  If you look at the picture above, that’s another collection I had to have, now I’m fit to be tied!  Yes.  I bought a man’s entire necktie collection.  Probably more than 60 ties.  But I couldn’t refuse.  I spent a total of $6.  All I really wanted was enough to try my hand at making a handbag.  Now I should have enough to make at least six beautiful bags.  If I ever do make them, I’ll post a photo . . . once I figure out how to post photos!  But . . . don’t hold your breath that those bags will show up anytime soon.  I’m not very organized, you see.  That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it!

I hope you’ll become a regular reader/viewer.  I look forward to entertaining you in the ways of  Junkology and hope to hear from you:  your ideas, inspirations and creations.

Have junk?  Will travel!   ; ) Kristi