Yesterday, being Wednesday, I set off at 8AM for 99 cent clothing day at the Salvation Army. Every Wednesday every item of clothing from coats to cocktail frocks is a mere 99 cents regardless of original stated price. That is not to say Wednesdays mean easy pickins' for all. Hardly. You must get there early and then you must be ready to fend off tiny grandmothers who become as strong and aggressive as football players. Also, there are the stylish young mothers with toddlers it toe. They wouldn't be difficult, I hear you say, Not with children they need to look after. You must remember these "children", though cute and innocent looking enough are crafty distractions very capable of blocking your path to designer jeans. You maneuver around them, careful not to step on tiny toes, look up and realize those DKNYs are long gone.
I don't have super luck at 99 cent clothing day. I usually can find some scrubs for work, maybe a cute little top. Which is fine. I'm not as much into thrift store clothes as I am thrift store knick-knacks, bric-a-brac and miscellaneous. And this, friends, is where I struck gold. Arg.
First off, the lovely sea green vintage aluminum tray. This was 45 cents. A good price. I had a pink one similar to it once that I put in the dishwasher. NEVER PUT THESE IN THE DISHWASHER!!!!! All the paint will peel off and you will be sad, sad, sad. I realize after I took the picture there is a beverage ring in one corner. I can take this off with a plastic scrubby and dish soap. Easy sleazy.
Look at my ancient vase:
Found in the rubbles of Pompeii? Made by an ancient Greek craftsman? Nope. Written in the base, it proudly announced it was made in Japan. That doesn't stop my cat, Emma, from admiring it -
and who can blame her? A few cheery mums or daises would be right at home in here. And at $1.50, it was just right.
Small bowl and saucer. These were each 45 cents.
I usually only buy one dish with a certain pattern but I just fell in love with these. The back says Steubenville IVORY. I love the thick yellowed glaze. I like to have small plates and bowls. I can never have too many. They are so useful for condiments or as spoon rests or dainty reciprocals for tea bags or pistachio shells.
And finally, my true love:
This tile was pulled from a wall somewhere, I think. Look at the back:
It still has plaster on it! I love the sweet little cottage scene. The glaze is cloudy white, like the icing on oatmeal cookies. It reminds me of Van Briggle.
Have I spoke of Van Briggle before? Oh! Van Briggle! I never heard of it until I moved to Colorado. It's like McCoy or Roseville. The glazes are creamy and the hues illuminated pastel blues and pinks that blend with yellows and oranges like mini sunsets. They're still in business and still make lovely pieces. I can't really justify buying anything from them right now. The pieces I really love command at least a hundred dollars. Someday, though...
No one understands my VanBriggle love. I took Mom C to their studio when she was in town once and, while she said the building was cool, the pieces in the showroom illicit ed a simple shrug of the shoulders and a wandering to the bathroom. My husband is the same way. After looking at my new tile, turning it over in his hands a few times as if looking for a switch or knob on it that would turn it in to something cool, he issued his verdict: "This looks like that dull Briggle stuff you like. I don't get it. It's not even that shiny."
No, it isn't shiny. Nor bright colored, nor glittery, which is the theme to much of my home decor. I can't explain my attraction. But someday I hope to have a wall of these tiles.
I hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving. We are off to M&Ls. D is making special cheesy dips he found in a vintage cookbook. The cover has a artful display of deviled eggs and celery sticks stuffed with cream cheese and topped with a couple black olive slices. "Why don't we make those?," I asked, pointing to the celery. He shook is head and took the book away. I guess I do not understand his vintage appetizer love anymore that he understands my Van Briggle love. That's okay.
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