almost magical

  I wish I could explain to you how it feels to not sleep, to toss and turn in the night. To set your alarm for 5:45 am and wake up 5 minutes before its scheduled to go off out of sheer excitement. To not shower, to dress quickly and practically in jeans and sneakers and old army jacket. To rush your family in the most passive aggressive way to the car. To wait for three hours for a maybe, full of hope and nauseous from nervousness.  To stand in line with a bunch of equally passive aggressive Pacific North-westerners that all would trample you if it meant getting in five minutes early.
  I went to an estate sale. A really really good estate sale. Possibly even the defining one in my surprisingly long career as an estate sale devotee.
  It was the home of a still-kicking 93 year old woman, according to her strangely accented neighbor who appeared in the line maybe an hour before the doors opened. She had excellent taste, sharing my passion for chenille bedspreads and Edwardian clothing. She had nothing but Edwardian clothing. I don't know how she got it, she is far too young have actually worn it during the era, maybe it was her mother's. I wish you could feel what it was like to walk into a room full of  Edwardian clothing. It is heaven. It is bliss. It is the type of excitement that make your body actually tremble. I bought way too much and now I'm in debt to my aunt. At the same time, it manages to feel like I didn't buy enough. You figure that out I can't. I mean I left with 3 dresses, 2 skirts, one blouse, a skirt slip, a 1940s head vase, a 1940s chenille blanket, and a cake plate + dome.
  Afterwards we went to the U-Distrct farmers' market and I ate my all-time favorite cinnamon roll (from Tall Grass Bakery) and there was an old french woman playing the accordion with a little velvet cloth on her lap.

Recently

I made homemade ice cream for the first time. (Basil chocolate chip from Bon Appetit. You're welcome.)

I worked a lot. And am considering quitting to go back to school. But I have no idea which path I want to take (baking, regular associates degree, or some mystical currently unknown third option?). I've had many near panic attacks over this very subject while sweeping the floor of my workplace with a giant mop/broom hybrid. A sign would be nice. Or just a stronger feeling of connection to the future, specifically mine. Part of the problem with watching old films, listening to old jazz, and collecting clothing and sewing notions older than my grandmother is that I feel far more connected to what happened then over what is happening at this moment. I have always lived in my head, absorbed in my interests and felt like what was actually happening to me was the surreal impossible thing. Help?

I bought a 1943 edition of The Joy of Cooking and it is so much more lively and engaging than the modern edition. Irma S. Rombauer includes little notes before most of the recipes. Some of her notes are informative in the traditional sense and some are more personal such as her note on a cake she served at a dinner party. Because it was reissued during WWII she includes a section on sugarless and reduced sugar desserts. Amelia and I made her honey spiced pound cake and it was damn fine. 

Also, I've spent too much time with my cat. 

Found

 Today I found what may be my last estate sale find of the year. They tend to drop off as the months grow colder, don't they? Anyway I found an (early?) 1930s blouse made of cotton lawn with ruffles trimming the collar and sleeves. If I can get its assortment of stains out, I will wear it with high waisted jeans and skirts. I am planning to try to make a pattern of it and sew it up in some blue and white flowered lawn I have. Wish me luck!

P.S. For once a picture I took turned out how I wanted it to. Don't you love that?

Beautiful things

There's nothing quite like a bouquet of flowers you picked by the freeway after seeing an intresting movie or a beaded 1920s dress, and over this past weekend I got both. I also found a curling iron from 1917 ("Functional?!" You may ask. Who knows!), a series of 1940s National Geographics, and a patch for my letter sweater. And today started with eating pancakes and finding out that I didn't have to work today after all.

Not that I'm bragging. Just trying to remind my pessimistic self that summer is a beautiful time. Because it is. 

Spring estate saling in the suburbs

There are a lot of downsides to living in a smallish town, even if it is rather close to Seattle. But one of the few upsides is the one seriously amazing estate sale I (and my family of course) manage to find every spring. It is not a yearly thing put on by a certain organization, it just happens. This years estate sale had loads of vintage clothing and midcentury patterns. The clothing dated all the way back to the 1910s up to the 1970s. I found 3 patterns, a camisole from the 1910s (in need of alteration in the bust, but after all it was $2.50), a stellar flowered 50s dress, a vintage silk scarf from my home state, and a 20s dress (to be featured in an upcoming post). My best friend found a silk 20s blouse she was quite besotted with and every member of my family found something they liked. The family that estate sales together stays together, I think.

Estate sailing

Today my family, a friend, and I went estate sailing. We started in the Lake Forest Park area and then went to Renton. One house in particular, struck my fancy. It was essentially a 1960s time capsule, meaning almost everything was from the 60s, and if not from then than earlier. It was so much fun to dig around in and the prices were dirt cheap. There were a ton of great 50s and 60s fashion magazines but I was too overwhelmed by everything and terrified by the prospect of going up the steep and crowded staircase again, so I don't buy any. Ultimately I found three books, three sewing patterns, two 60s blouses, a vintage (possibly late 50s) cape, and a new comforter.

Et voila!

Vionnet

  Due to the sad demise of my point and shoot in late June, I have been much absent from this blog. In my absence from here I have been sewing, reading pulps, and watching many old movies of varying degrees of quality. My brief return is inspired by this post on favorite dresses. Because of the post I have decided to show you my favorite dress.
  It is a 1930s Vionnet dress that is a dusty pink color but due to the poor quality of these snapshots does not appear so. I love all of it's lace and pleats. It is so delicate that I wonder if I will ever be able to restore it enough so I can wear it for more than an hour.

I never know what to do when standing still. Hence, my preference for dancing related poses.

I enjoy pretending (unsuccessfully) that I am in the tango scene of "Some Like It Hot."