Category Archives: collections

February 19, 2010 · 1:08 pm

I’m Not Only The President, I’m Also A Client

I became a vintage seller because I am also a vintage buyer. When I realized that my personal collection included too many “specimen pieces” which were lovely but not my size, I decided to share the booty. I can have a dress tailored, but too-small shoes are going to remain too-small shoes. And how many silver lamÃ© handbags should one girl rightfully own?

Of course, in order to keep things going, I need to keep buying. When my inventory is running low, I may pick up a few things that aren’t to my taste, but which I feel have merit. However, most of the time, I pick up stuff that I would be happy to wear (or use) myself. Which leads me to…

I’ve been scouring eBay for vintage swimsuits. I need a “new” one, and as long as I’m looking, I’ll see if I can afford a few for the store. If you feel like it, you can do a keyword search and see how many come up. A good number are vintage-reproductions. An equally large number are represented as true vintage, but I can tell from the photos that the seller is either confused, clueless, or flat-out lying. I saw one that definitely was vintage, but the Rose Marie Reid label either wasn’t original to the suit, or was original but had fallen out and been sewn back in (badly) by an owner at some point. There are all sorts of things to look out for, and I consider myself pretty savvy. I have to be.

When I spotted a listing for a “50s-60s rockabilly VLV vintage bathing suit” “in great condition” with no accompanying photo and a low starting bid, I added it to my Watched list. After a few days, a single photo appeared. The photo was small, blurry, and cropped off the very bottom of the suit. I’ve passed over other listings for similarly vague photos, but the low opening bid and 100% feedback score must have encouraged me to dive in. I placed a low bid, and forgot about it. Completely. I mean, when I received notification that I won the auction, I honestly didn’t remember bidding on it. But hey, there you go. I paid right away, and waited. Priority Shipping meant that I wouldn’t have to wait long.

Oh, but I did. 11 days after I paid the invoice, I contacted the seller and asked about the status of the package, and for a tracking number (heads up: all Priority packages include tracking, although it isn’t as robust as UPS or FedEx). I heard nothing. I thought about writing again the next day, but decided to give it another 24 hours. Lo and behold, my package arrived today! Postmarked 11 days after I paid! And wrapped in a United States Post Office bag, because the seller’s original packaging, a brown paper grocery bag, had torn open in transit. Now I ask you: If you’re selling a 40 or 50 year old swimsuit, are you shipping it in a grocery bag? Well no, no you’re not. Because I finished opening the bag to see a swimsuit that isn’t more than 5 years old. It’s an attractive color and a flattering, vintage-INSPIRED cut, but with clear hints as to its modern creation. For one thing, it’s a spandex blend fabric with a fine hand. Swimsuits weren’t made out of fabric this drapey before the ’80s, and the matte finish puts it no older than the ’90s. The lack of pilling, the blue-on-blue faux brocade print, and the cast metal rosettes on the straps indicate that it’s likely even newer.

This seller doesn’t accept returns, but I’ve sent a message explaining my dissatisfaction and am now in Wait And See mode. The next step is to contact eBay and PayPal and file disputes with both, but I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that. Be careful out there, kids!

Vintage Sewing: Part Four

I left you all on Saturday morning, when I had created my graded pattern but had yet to cut out my fabric. Things went fairly smoothly, aside from accidentally leaving the zipper opening on the right, rather than left, side of the dress, ripping out the seam on the left side, and then restitching the exact same seam, which of course required ripping it out again. Argh. By the end of the evening, my sewing friends had completed the full muslins-as-linings for their more complicated patterns, and, because I had no lining to mess around with, I had a finished dress:

CIMG4870

I say “finished,” but I have every intention of going back in and putting in a side-seam pocket. I need pockets. As long as I keep altering this pattern, I think I’ll also move the zipper to the center back next time, which will call for a doubly-long zipper but eliminate the whole right/left issue. Now that I’ve successfully sewn my first vintage pattern, and graded/altered it as well, I just can’t seem to stop messing around!

I wore the now-referred-to-as-Dragon Dress out in public to go to the store on Monday, and received no fewer than SIX compliments on my dress from complete strangers. How lovely! It’s cottony-comfortable, fun to twirl in, and apparently looks quite flattering. The only caveat (aside from a serious lack of pocket) is that when I crouched down at the store to look for something on a bottom shelf, the skirt spilled around me in a three-foot radius, thus preventing a store clerk from restocking a wide swath a shelving until I got up again. Which really isn’t a problem for ME as much as for the people AROUND me.

Tomorrow: Vintage Sewing Weekend’s Bonus Dress

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Filed under collections, fashion, friends, nostalgia, sewing, vintage

March 17, 2009 · 10:43 am

Snap-front Shirts

Two is a coincidence, three is a collection. -Me

Well alrighty then, kiddies, gather ’round and let me tell you ’bout a little girl who never wanted to dress like a cowboy until some time late in high school when she HAD to have herself a pair of cowboy boots. And by “have herself,” I mean “beg for a pair for Christmas.” I still remember ’em: Dan Post boots, in black leather. Nothing fancy, which, even then, I was disappointed by. But still, good boots of my very own. And for that, I was pleased. They were joined shortly thereafter by a pair of Larry Mahan lizard-skin boots, very graciously donated to me by my friend Winston, a real, live Texan. They were too small for him, and too big for me. My heels would bleed from rubbing around inside those boots, and the lizard was cracking, and the soles were separating, and I was in no financial position to do anything about it.

Actually, even before the boots, I had a t-shirt on which was printed an old photo of a line of cowgirls, real buckaroo rodeo gals, from maybe the early ’30s. Wonderful, broad-brimmed hats.

I’m not sure at what point I decided that I wanted to be Dale Evans. I loved Nudie‘s work, and I’d wanted majorette boots since I was a tiny little thing, so I guess it was a natural progression. I bought my first leather-and-concho belt in Kansas in 1995 or ’96, and my first fancified snap-front shirt in… shoot. I don’t remember. It’s been a while.

Click on the photo to take a look at the collection.

In Progress

Hey, you know what I need? A new handbag. Because, um, I don’t have enough? (Note: That link is to the flickr set of my vintage and vintage-inspired bags. I have more purses, but they’re not “special” enough to warrant photographing.) (Second Note: Mandelion, I’m sorry but now that I see these all laid out in front of me, I just can’t instruct you to not buy any more bags. The word “hypocrite” will bounce loudly around my skull, even though you’ve asked me to stop you.)

Yeah, so. Every time I wander through JoAnn Fabrics, I give a glance to the two bolts of Zodiac upholstery vinyl that live along the back wall. Zodiac is manufactured in perhaps a dozen colors, although JoAnn only stocks two: burgundy and charcoal. I glance, sometimes I even stop and run my fingers over the vinyl, and then I walk away. I already have two clutches made of Zodiac (or a Zodiac-like fabric) and while it’s true, they are of a poor design and don’t hold much, I simply don’t need another bag. Besides, every handbag project I’ve started in the past has fallen into the storage tub of Maybe I’ll Finish This Eventually.

And then one day last week, I realized that my beloved Pantone ID card holder was perhaps looking a bit haggard. I’ve been using it as my primary wallet for a few years now, and it’s served me well, but it’s showing signs of age. And I suppose I should start shopping around for a new one. Orrrrrrrrrrrrr… hmm. I could MAKE one. Out of Zodiac! And since I doubt JoAnn will have small, remnant-size pieces, I’ll have some left over. So I’ll make a matching checkbook cover. Yes! Cool! I decide to get a half-yard of vinyl, and maybe I’ll stitch up a mini tote or something out of whatever is left over. And so I skip over to JoAnn.

The bolt is heavy. Lucky for me, nobody is ahead of me at the cutting table, and I can drop it off (literally) for the cutting attendant right away. While she’s unrolling it, I spot a handbag pattern over in the Green Pepper rack where I don’t usually look, because their stuff is a little “Boulder” for me. But this pattern looks like… well, exactly what I could use to make a bag from the extra vinyl! Yay!

I get home, and unroll the vinyl, face-down, so I can see in which direction the backing fabric’s grain runs. I open the pattern sheet, so I can get a vague idea of the layout. Hmmm, as long as they’re unfolded, why don’t I grab my rotary cutter and rough-cut the pieces so I can really lay them on the vinyl…

THE VINYL.

The vinyl was already unrolled! On top of my table-size cutting mat, on which I just rough cut the pieces! I HAVE JUST ROUGH-CUT THE VINYL! AAAAAAARRRRRRGH! I still have enough for all of my planned projects, but WHAT A DUMBASS! I do stupid stuff from time to time, but this is waaaaay up there on the list.

Okay, fine, back to work. I cut out the pieces for the handbag, trying my best to leave large areas left untouched for an ID holder, a checkbook cover, and the wallet that Nick asked that I make him when I mentioned my plans. I cut out the lining fabric. I read the pattern instructions.

I read the pattern instructions.

I read the pattern instructions. No, I’m sorry, what? I still don’t understand. Turn the open end under… taper… zigzag… I know the words, but the picture on the pattern is just as abstract as the construction I’m picturing in my head. I hold the pieces in my hands, and go through the steps again.

No, this just isn’t coming together.

I decide that I’ll just start sewing, and it will (hopefully) become clear as I go through. I swap out the needle on my machine, and I thread it. I go grab dinner with Scott and decide to come back to it in the morning.

Mom, an accomplished sewer herself, stops by in the morning, and I thrust the pattern instructions at her. She sits with them for a while, and is also a bit perplexed. But I think she’s figured it out, and she’s now waiting for me so she can show me what I’m supposed to do. Wish me luck!

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Filed under collections, family, sewing

February 4, 2009 · 1:25 pm

Aprons

To make up for the previous long-winded posts, here’s a very brief one.

I collect a lot of things. Today’s post shows you, my sewing- and cooking-interested readers, my collection of aprons. As an added bonus to a frequently-overlapping segment of my readers, most of them are vintage. Click on the image to be magically transported to the flickr set that describes them all.