For Little Girls Who Never Grew Up or Why I Like Thrift Shops

When I was a little girl, Easter meant crinolines and polished cotton dresses with puffy sleeves and sashes. It meant a new pair of white socks. It meant a cute little straw purse with plastic flowers on it and maybe a hat. It also meant that the Easter Bunny brought my brother and me Easter baskets wrapped in crinkly cellophane; said baskets were not to be opened until after church. To define that as mild abuse would be fair through the eyes of a child who...yes...believed in the Bunny Who Brings Eggs! I still can't figure that one out....and am not going to try.


After church, the dress and slip are thankfully shucked, the cellophane has been trashed, the candy coatings have been sucked off the jelly beans...said jelly part spit undecorously in the trash. Then it's time to go to Grandmama's for the Easter egg hunt....the most fabulous part of day. Grandmama, Mama, and the aunties would hide the eggs in the wooded pasture in front of Grandmama's house, then we'd be let loose with our baskets to hunt eggs. It was such a thrill to scoop up a handful of pine straw and find a brightly colored egg! I never did find the most eggs, but I may have had the most fun! When all the eggs had been accounted for, the salt and pepper shaker would be brought out and we'd all gather under the wash house to eat eggs! Ugh, two was my limit!


All that is to say that I've never outgrown my love of Easter egg hunts. However, somehow it isn't quite right for an adult to show up at the annual kiddie egg hunt with her bright, shiny eyes and her worn and frayed Easter basket expecting to outrace all the kiddies to find all the eggs. 1. She's an adult. 2. She moves a lot slower than the kids. 3. Come on, it really isn't seemly, is it!


Now I have to channel all that bright-eyed wonder of the Easter egg hunt into a more acceptable endeavor. We do what we can to get our fixes of what we need. Eh hem. Thus was born the love of thrifting; a way to turn up treasures in a more adult way, but just as thrilling as the childhood hunt! It's fun to see what one can find.


Sometimes the treasures are fantastic, as one of my recent finds was. Too good not to share eventhough it isn't vintage! Voila! This is a beautiful St. John Evening dress I found recently. Exquisitely made in America (you don't see that much anymore) and in excellent condition. Need I say that the little girl in me was thrilled? And no licorice jelly beans!

Emilo Pucci Formfit Rogers Gown and Robe

I was strolling down the lingerie aisle at a favorite charity store and this fabric leaped out at me. It was a splash of color in a morass of tired flannel and saggy teddies. It was immediately special. I'm a fabric toucher and a label reader, so when I saw the two words "Emilio Pucci," I knew I had a winner. It was a very good day.

In 1959, Emilio Pucci decided to create a lingerie line. His atelier in Rome advised him to develop the line abroad, avoiding the difficulties of a decade earlier in matching available fabrics to the patterns of his first swimwear line. As a result, Pucci came to Chicago giving the lingerie contract to Formfit-Rogers mills. The venture proved to be successful, and Pucci was made vice president in charge of design and merchandising for the company a year later.

This peignoir set is vintage 60s or 70s. It features Pucci's signature bright colors of hot pink, rusty orange, light pink, and pale chartreuse with his initials being a design element. Known for his bold kaleidoscopic prints, this pattern is almost dainty in comparison with rows of loose bows on a lacey border. Pucci designed in Italy and his garments were American made. The borders are pieced on the gown and robe with tiny darts forming the circular border around the neck of the robe. The nylon fabric is thin and fine. The set is a lovely example of quality American made lingerie.