I have no fun stories to pass on this week, so I'll just jump right in with some finds. I'll start with a beautiful authentic wooden piece and a beautiful fake wooden piece.
I'm calling this a candy dish. After I brought it home from my favorite GW, I treated it with my handy-dandy IKEA wood oil. The original sticker is still adhered to the backside, and the sticker itself is pretty cool.
That's a map/globe behind the Action name. Love it.
This is the second faux bois (false wood) tray by Pyrex I've found. The other, a larger one, has been listed in my Etsy shop for a while. But, alas, there have been no takers. I love them both, though—so mid-century sleek. And who doesn't appreciate glossy, fake wood?
But on to more mid-century goodness.
When I saw this Pyrex Space-Saver priced at $10 at one of my regular stops (a thrift store that benefits the local hospital), I texted Mama to see whether she wanted it. Of course, she did. It's a promotional pattern from 1958, unofficially known as Black Rooster. The lid is chipped some on the underside, and it's apparently sitting in the wrong cradle. (According to my copy of PYREX Passion, it originally came with "a cradle with cork handles," while those in the photo above are plastic.) But Mama will love it anyway.
A few weeks ago, I also found this tureen for Mama. (Forgot to mention it on my blog before!) The bottom reads "Glo-White Ironside/Alfred Meakin/England." It's in perfect condition. And Mama likes yellow things.
Note, please, that I called it a "tureen" here, yet I'll admit that when I texted Mama about it from the SA, I called it a casserole. A tureen is for soup; a casserole is for . . . casseroles. I'm an American: a pot is for soup, and every other dish is for casseroles. Forgive me.
This mid-century goodness is mine, found at two separate stores in the same week. This classic atomic pattern was manufactured by Canonsburg Pottery. It's called Temporama.
Love, love, love the individual designs. I may use them for inspiration on the next patch I embroider to cover the holes in my jeans! Seriously. I do that.
I also found this 13x9-inch pan in Butterfly Gold (the first Butterfly Gold design that was issued between 1972 and 1978)for Mama. Remember, she loves yellows?
Don't look closely at the photo, please, because I didn't clean it well. I got some of the gunk off of it with Bar Keepers Friend, but got tired. Mama will have to get the rest!
And now to the obligatory mugs. (God help me.)
Between the two mugs is a sour cream glass. I cannot pass those up.
I bought the "got milk?" mug to list on Ebay. The slogan/ad campaign was just retired, and the mug is dated 1999. So I'm hoping it'll sell.
The Epcot mug is from 1982—the year the ultimate mid-century atomic park opened. I'm pretty sure I was there that year, too. Epcot is my favorite of the Disney parks. And my family (both the one I grew up in and the one we're now raising) loves Disney. We've visited umpteen times.
Not that you asked, but my favorite restaurant in Epcot?
Cosmic Ray's Starlight Cafe.
From a couple of sections of the dining area, visitors enjoy a nice view of Cinderella's Castle. And if you time your meals right, you can eat while listening to a set from a fun band.
But best—their large and reasonably priced menu (and by "reasonably priced," I mean "reasonably priced by Disney standards") includes a veggie burger and a super condiment bar. (I care, because I'm a vegetarian.) And at the super condiment bar, I can basically build a salad on my plate! Budget yummola!
One more thing—the decor in Tomorrowland (where the restaurant is located) is retro space-age. Perfect for us vintage lovers.
And, I promise, just one more thing—try to avoid this place during traditional mealtimes. It gets busy, busy, busy. And too many people looking for a table makes us crazy, crazy, crazy. And at Disney, we need to stay happy, happy, happy.
These Starbucks mugs are for Ebay. The one on the right is a Berlin City Mug Series mug, by the way.
I was in the Manassas SA when I saw them in an employee's cart. She was stocking shelves. I waited by the cart until she returned from setting something on a shelf, and I asked whether I could take them.
"Yes," she said.
"Thank you," I said.
And "Goodie!" I thought.
We'll see whether any Ebay shoppers might want one of them.
That's all for now. Happy thrifting, y'all!
Linking up with Sir Thrift-a-Lot and We Call It Junkin.
How about we begin with a thrift-store-find mystery that I hope someone out there can help me solve?
I found these three small bowls on a half-day-seven-thrift-store shopping craze. I have an efficient route that takes me east through four traffic-heavy Northern Virginia cities, yet allows me to complete the run in four hours. (Caveat: I no longer have small children.)
I picked up these bowls because I thought they might be Russel Wright. However, there are no markings on the bottoms indicating such—only three stilt marks on each bowl. Also, after getting home and researching, the color of these looks a little darker than the iconic Russel Wright Coral. So maybe I got knockoffs? I do like them, regardless. But does anyone out there know whether the smaller Russel Wright pieces were ever manufactured without markings?
By the way, the melmac tray in the photo with the bowls is one I picked up at a SA last week. It's also unmarked. I got it because it matches the unmarked melmac bowls that both my Florida Mamaw and my Kentucky Mamaw used to serve us ice cream and cereal in.
This is definitely my best find of the past couple of weeks. Despite promises to myself to never ever venture into the Manassas SA on a Wednesday (when, ahem, the entire store is 25% off, and when everybody and his or her brother seems to know it), I did. I walked in three minutes after the store opened, and I picked up the last shopping basket available. There were two carts left, but I don't like carts.
I have to say that, despite everyone else's carts getting in my way, I made out okay. And among the items I found were these three Ben Seibel designed salad plates by Pfaltzgraff. The pattern is Country-Time, and the minimalist fruit images are so stinkin' mid-century mod, as are the colors—saffron and gray. Am I wrong?
I probably won't keep them, though; I'm collecting, like, three patterns already, so I can't. But I'm not sure whether I'll list them in my Etsy shop, or whether I'll try an Ebay auction. I'm leaning Etsy, because Ebay intimidates me. (Too much down-to-the-wire pressure.)
Right now I'm just trying to price them. I haven't found any of these exact plates for sale online right now, so I'm clueless about the current market value. (Thus, the nerve-wracking Ebay auction idea—let the free market decide!)
Anyway.
On the shopping spree day, I found these two bread and butter plates—also designed by Ben Seibel, but manufactured by Iroquois. I believe the pattern's name is Pyramids, but I'm not sure. I'll admit I don't love the pattern. In fact, I bought the plates for the far out logo and fonts on the plates' backs. I know. That's just sad.
I got this unnumbered blue Pyrex mixing bowl to help Mama complete her Primary set. And I happened across a Taylorstone Cathay dinner plate to add to my recently acquired humongous set, discovered and bought on Taylorstone Cathay Day. This one has a little chip, but I just don't care.
Also for Mama, I picked up this Pyrex 023 Opal. (She likes the Opals.) The bread and butter plate is mine. It's Copper Filigree, one of the Pyrex dinnerware patterns.
I don't normally buy ashtrays, because I simply have no justification. (The hubbie lets his cigar ashes fall wherever they may, don't you know.) But this ashtray is uber-cool. The bottom indicates that it's a Ges Line and that it was "Made in the U.S.A." See? Uber-cool. (Note, please, that I don't know whether the Ges Line does or does not need a dash—like Ges-Line? The name on the ashtray doesn't make it clear, so I'm going with the usage I found online as most common. No dash, it is.)
What'll I do with an ashtray? I'll either use it as a ridiculous candy dish, or list it on Etsy. Not sure which.
Okay. More I.D. help needed, please.
This lovely, frolicking-wild-horse bar glass is dated 1993, but I can't identify the maker.
Anyone out there recognize this logo? I'd like to learn more about the glass, but I can't find that logo on any of my logo-I.D. go-to sites.
And still more help, please?
This cradle thingie was priced at 96 cents, and, of course, it has such a fun wooden handle. So there was no way I could leave it sitting on the GW shelf amongst all the common stuff. Too bad I have no idea what it was originally intended to hold and/or display. (At first, I was thinking that it might be part of a Pyrex set, but I can't find a photo of it in any of my regular Pyrex info sources.)
Clue: It is collapsible.
The two tiny serving pieces were made in Japan. They were a little grungy at the store, but after cleaning the stainless steel and treating the wooden handles at home, they look quite good, if I do say so myself.
So those are the only items I'll write about this week. And, please, if you have any idea what the unknowns up there are, I'd love for you to share.
And I'll leave you with a Remington Steele update (because I wrote about the show last week). This week I watched the first episode of the second season.
It's the episode in which Laura and Mr. Steele travel to exotic Acapulco, in part to save Laura's housekeeper's son from some bad south-of-the-border dudes. But it's also the episode that explains away the sudden absence of two of the first season's secondary characters, while also cleverly introducing replacement Doris Roberts (a.k.a. Mildred Krebs) as the IRS agent/stickler who, turns out, is a closet adventure seeker. (Spoiler alert: Mildred becomes Remington Steele's receptionist/private-eye extraordinaire and adds immensely to the show's charm.)
Well, also in this episode, Laura Holt sports some rad vintage 1980s parachute pants. Oh, yes. Check it out.
I lived through the parachute pants days, by the way. And I'm here to tell you that it wasn't always pretty. (Laura carries it off well, though. Look at that itsy-bitsy waist!)
Please note the bar stool behind/next to Laura. Doesn't that look Eames-ish? Could that be an authentic wire bar stool designed by the man himself? Or only a reproduction. Fun, nevertheless.
Thanks to Sir Thrift-a-Lot, Thrifter/Maker/Fixer/Farm, We Call It Junkin, and a living space for the opportunity to link up.
