Happy Birthday To Past Pieces Vintage

Past Pieces turned 3 years old on August 6, 2011.  Only this year have I devoted most of my time to nurturing it and treating it as a full-time pursuit instead of a diversion.  It has evolved since then and probably will continue to evolve as I devote even more time and effort to it; to decide in which direction I really want to go, although that’s pretty well settled.  Today.

When I started Past Pieces, I was a full-time caregiver and wanted something to distract me from that day to day business.  I wanted a venue in which to sell some of the vintage dinnerware and bits and pieces that I’d collected.  It was a way to gently divest myself of my treasures before I was labelled as one of the currently disturbing darlings of the reality television shows…the hoarder.  Having a Goodwill store open locally didn’t help my malady, and soon the garage became a repository for the steel shelving I bought for my “inventory.”  Hence the need for an online shop.

Wonder of wonders, once I opened my Etsy shop, I sold a few things.  There’s nothing headier than making money and I was on my way.  It languished for the first two years, but I sold an item every now and then, but I was too distracted by other things to put my heart and soul into it.  Now, I have the time, and a bit of heart and soul, so we shall see what happens.

As I mentioned, my direction is changing from the original dinnerware and collectibles to what I plan to become a place for vintage clothing and accessories.  Add some vintage lingerie and linens and it’ll be an eclectic brew of various decades.  

Will it keep evolving?  Yes.  Will it keep growing?  Yes.  Will my interests keep changing?  Yes.  Do I know where it all will lead?  No.  

Yes, I'm guilty

Yes. I love to shop at thift shops. Yes, I resell some of the items that I buy. The mantra, "reduce, reuse, recycle," means more to me than just jumping up and down on the kitty litter boxes in order to take them to the 'convenience center' with a clear conscious. My philosophy is this: for every item that I resell, that's an item that's being reused and replaces an item that would be bought new off the shelf. I scour the racks looking for American-made goods and feel that for every American-made item that finds a new life, that's one less cheap Chinese item to clog the national closet. For those who know me, they know that I have my own personal boycott against Chinese-made goods. I've passed up some wonderful items because of its place of origin. My conscience is clear and I give myself a mental pat on the back when I do so. Do most people feel this way? I don't know; I can only speak for myself, but my love of country contributes to this feeling and this action.


Ours is also a label-obsessed nation....and brand names sell. I know...I have my own favorites and I can't pass up a pair of Enzo Angiolini 'Liberty' flats...even those that don't fit me! Guess what? I resell them :). Would you like to know how many pairs I personally have? That I've found at Goodwill, Salvation Army, etc.? Let's see: there's the lime green pair; two pink pairs; the navy pair with red plaid vamp; the brown pair with brass studs; the black patent pair; the two ivory pairs; the other blue pair, and that's just off the top of my head. Liberty flats, for those who know fashion, are kind of stuffy and nontrendy. I've been buying the same style of shoe for ohhhhhhhhh, at least 15 years. I like them. They're kind of dorky, and scream "Matron!", but I love'm and you just wouldn't believe how many pairs I find! But I digress.


What I want to address is the troubling observation I recently made. Labels that have been cut out of clothes. Why would one do this? If one makes a donation to a charity shop or thrift shop, why would one care to cut labels from garments? Is it a hateful little idea that to do that means that it can't be resold? Or do they think that the peasantry who will shop for these items won't care that the label is removed? Even more annoying than the brand label being cut out, is the size, material content, and care label being removed too. All I want to know is why? I want that woman who did that to tell me why she did it. The only reason I can think of is contempt. Contempt for those who will ultimately buy those garments.

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!

Saturday's Mystery Box

There's nothing more exciting than a cardboard box and crumpled up newspaper hiding treasures beyond belief.... Well, velvet boxes with pearls are more exciting, but we're talking bargain basement excitement, not 'Breakfast At Tiffany's' excitement!

I love to stop by a favorite shop with no expectations and find old dinnerware; something that has been loved and appreciated in another era. Due to time, death, relocation, downsizing, economics, lack of appreciation, or something shinier and newer, things tend to get cast off. It's a shame, really, but it's also my gain.

My latest treasure is a set of yellow teacups and saucers. Boldly and delicately yellow with graceful swirls and shapely handles. Eight each, which isn't as usual as you would think. Lovely. The plates and bowls? Long gone, maybe, as they were the dishes that were used most often. Teacups were stacked on the top shelf and hardly ever used. Somewhere along the way we moved from the polite teacup into mug territory. I think that's a metaphor for our society!

These lovely teacups are by Franciscan. I haven't done any research on time yet, so I don't know the pattern.

Another find is a cute lil Lefton wall-hangy-doodad; the kind of which people don't really hang on their walls anymore. Well, some grandmama someplace might, but I have a sneaking suspicion that most of them have been tossed in the attic. The yellow flowers made me happy and I had a theme going on so I went with it.

The completion of the theme were four Mount Clemens plates. Roses. My favorite theme. These plates are in great condition and like the teacups and saucers, I don't yet know the pattern.

Frustration---Is It McCoy or Homer Laughlin?

Frustration is seeing something in a book in the library then finding it on the shelf at a local thrift store. Snatching it up and not being able to remember whose company made it. Frustration is not being able to find it in a book again no matter how many trips to the library have been made. Frustration is wondering if you just made the whole thing up or dreamed it!

Frustration is never having seen this particular style before and not being able to even hazard a guess.

Such is the case with this creamer and sugar set. Less than perfect with worn gold and a sizeable chip, it still has clean modern lines with a decidedly 50s feel. I think it's McCoy. But it could be Homer Laughlin. I think. Or it could be some other company entirely. I'm just not sure. But I'm sure that I like it.

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.