*Holiday Catalog*

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One of the most exciting days in our house on Maple Street would be when the new Sears catalog would arrive in the mail.  Weighing in at a good 5 pounds, at least 2 inches thick, it had all manner of items to tantalize young and old.  For us kids of the early 1960s, of course, it was the toy section. Page after page of abundance – toys for every child – Barbies, Matchbox, Mr. Potato Head, Lionel trains, Easy Bake Oven (or how to burn your house down) Operation, Scrabble, Gumby and Pokey, (still two of my favorite rubber people) Creepy Crawlers, (make your own rubber bugs) Picadoos (make your own rubber decor), Monopoly (Donald who?), Etch a Sketch, (not too cool when the screen broke) Pick up Stix, Duncan Yo-Yo’s (serious coordination needed) Life, Parcheesi, you get the picture, mate.  We didn’t have too many commercials blaring at us back then, we had the catalog to moon over, make our lists from, dream about…

Don’t get me wrong, I love my computer toys. From my smartphone to my netbook, to my laptop – I am uber plugged in.  I am glad, though, that I did have as a child, the not so immediate gratification of keeping myself perfectly entertained on a regular basis with this wonder of Madison Avenue and staple of baby boomers everywhere – our catalog.

It isn’t the same now, as it was then of course. But it’s starting to swing back that way again. We sure see it here at Kalembar Dune.. Hungover from our binge of conspicuous consumption as a society, we are on a good food diet now – reusing, repurposing, doing more with less, not having to have EVERYTHING, ALL THE TIME, IMMEDIATELY.  

So, I say, good for us.  Good for us for snapping out of it – and  enjoying ourselves with the fun of a simple existence, cherishing the actual serenity of life when it is not overspent, overcluttered, and overdone. In other words, build a snowman WITHOUT a snowman kit.  Really? You need a KIT to build a snowman?

nuff said. Have a great holiday!

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Ornaments

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Aren’t vintage decorations wonderful?  We brought them out at Kalembar Dune a little early this year – maybe because they are so nice to have around.  Do you ever ask yourself : “Self – Is it because we’re older that these remnants of yesteryear’s holidays bring such sentiment to our souls?  Or is it because they really are prettier than, say, those squishy polyester snowmen that just FEEL so alien and unnatural?”  Ah grasshopper… just another deep question for the learned ones..

We had an aluminum tree on Maple Street in the 1960s -  yes - we were one of those families, with beautiful mercury ornaments and a turning wheel matched up with a four colored light.  The tree would turn in the small den of our house, atomic era reds, blues, greens and golds illuminating the silver fringed branches. I can still hear the resistant whir of the turning wheel, and the soft crunch of the branches as they would graze the one spot in the room that did not give full clearance.

It was a magical tree to us – and my parents, too I think.  They - still not a decade in their new homeland – embraced it as one of the many things that would help them assimilate into modern American family culture.  That was the anchor of the Christmas decor binge – we of course had the requisite red stockings and the cookies and milk for Santa.  We also had the “Merry Christmas” sign in gold glitter and plastic holly and greens that proudly graced the front door (swiped that baby long ago – I still hang it on my back door in homage), a hanging music box bell that when the clacker was pulled (and in a house with four kids – just GUESS how many times that happened) it would merrily tinkle away Jingle Bells. Plastic Santa and Frosty – taller than we were – guarded the front porch. We couldn’t wait to watch “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” laying on our bellies in front of the TV – hair damp from the tub, washed and combed and ready for the wondrous day approaching.

My father would have hung the big colored bulb lights on the tall pine trees that fronted the house – likely thinking to himself ”how did a guy from nice, warm Beiruit end up hanging these !@#$$#% tangled lights on a freezing Boston day in early December?” His frozen sacrifice made our home – always a warm and safe haven – take on a fairy tale like quality with the onset of Christmas. 

Now, as a parent myself, I realize the clever fairy behind it all was our smart and beautiful mother – who tirelessly decorated, baked, cooked, cleaned and served up a scrumptious feast for the dozens of crazy Armenian relatives that would join us for the festivities.  Without a peep, she would roll out a perfectly coordinated event – her quiet smile revealing not an inch of the steel backbone that General Patton would have envied.

Many years later, Mom is now our Christmas angel, but the memories of the lovely, wacky childhood gifted to us by our parents lives on as our own special memory fairy.  Keep your iPads and video games and all other manner of present day excess.  Just gift me a peaceful day with my kids filled only with giggles and hugs.  And, while it is still achingly hard to have Mom absent, I like to think that maybe some of the magic of Christmas comes from being grateful to those who made it so special for us in years past.  So – HO – HO – HO my friends –  Have a warm, safe and vintage holiday season!

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Come Fly with me!

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This wonderful Starline three piece set of luggage came into Kalembar Dune today – and of course with all the retro nostalgia about town, I knew it had to be our next rave!

Made by the Baltimore Luggage company (a fairly well known manufacturer in the day) – this set features a “train case” along with two additional suitcases.  The train case would be used for makeup/ jewelry and other essentials, and was a forbear of the modern day carry on.

Could the travelers of yesteryear even IMAGINE the chaos of today’s voyagers?  My last trip featured fellow travelers in all manner of garb, (really – did you just roll out of bed before showing your face in public?) many who were impatient, angry and frustrated. Courtesy? Huh.

Back in the day – you actually had a travelling suit, gloves and hat -likely in wool gabardine that performed admirably during the many houred journeys.  The hat was a staple for both men and women, an accessory that I hope our fashion mavens will once again inspire us to include in our daily routines – it just adds SO much panache! (not to mention better service – a trick one of my colleagues taught me for our trans-Atlantic flights – try it – betcha25centsitworks..)

And how about the luggage stickers that proclaimed where you’d been?  The seasoned piece that had memoirs from all over the world inspired admiration from its colleagues – as if to say – I’ve been there, have you?

Back then, travelling itself was part of the marvel of the journey – not just an insane frenzy to arrive at the destination in the least amount of time.  We dressed properly and our luggage was a big part of our outfits – an actual accessory, so to speak.  It WAS considered a special occasion, and we were treated as honored guests by our crews.  (by the way – I am still impressed with the patience and courtesy of the flight crews – I don’t know how they do it!)

My parents came by ship to the United States in their twenties, (actually sailed past the Statue of Liberty – incredibly cool) and while their total stash was a mere $50.00 after paying for the ship’s tickets, they wore their very best on their grand adventure.  They were just engaged, and my father, gentleman that he still is, gave my mother the 2nd class berth and he took a bunk in steerage.  Mom had a black wool beret and grey tweed coat – serviceable and chic, and Dad had his everpresent chocolate brown fedora.  While he spent most of the time studying, (boards, boards, boards) his favorite recollection of the journey was winning the ping pong tournament on ship.  He speaks of it to this day with great pride! (check out the Jane Russell/Marilyn Monroe movie  – “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” for laugh out loud shipboard antics and adventure in the 1950s..)

So – ping pong aside, I’d say the learning from all of this is simple.. best foot forward mate, land, sea or air – you just never know!

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Sledding…

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A client brought this wonderful sled in today – it had been in her family since the 1920s when her grandmother rode it on the snowy hills in bucolic Concord.

So that got me thinking about sledding, and sledding in the city. If you grew up in Westie – you hit the slopes at Hynes field, which had beginner, advanced beginner and expert slopes – all at your disposal!  My two brothers, sister and I were pretty lucky, we lived near the field and with only a five minute walk along Weld Street – we were in sledding heaven.

It was also an activity we did ourselves – no parents involved – no rides needed – just a bunch of neighborhood kids walking to the field, with the simple parental instruction of “be home before it gets dark.”  My mother would slather our faces with vaseline to prevent chapped skin, and stuff tissue in our pockets in the vain hopes that we’d use them instead of our sleeves for the inevitable runny nose.  God knows she tried!

Because we were Armenian, and knitting was an Olympic sport in my family – we wore rather strange snow outfits compared to our American pals.  Now I know everyone’s grandmother knitted them hats and mittens, but our grandmother knitted us hats, mittens, scarves, sweaters, and SNOWPANTS. And made us wear them! (if she could have draped an afghan over us while we were sledding – she would have, believe me) I can still remember the aroma of the wet wool, it’s a smell that makes me smile as  Gramma Eugenie was rather obsessed with keeping us warm - (ergo the snowpants).  I’m sure our New England winters were a cold slap to a woman who had lived most of her years by the warm shores of the Eastern Mediterranean….

We were cool Westie kids with our boots, though - my brothers wore the de rigeur olive green galoshes with the yellow laces, and my sister and I sported the very stylish rubber affairs with the elastic loop over the button on the side.  Plastic bread bags were the next layer to keep our feet dry (insulated boots back then? naaaah.) and then at least 2, sometimes 3, layers of socks to keep the toes warm.

Once home – all the wet clothes would be laid out on the radiator to dry, and we would sit there too – to warm up our small, tired selves.

Because we were tired – a wonderful exhaustion from trudging up the double hills of Hynes (that’s the expert slopes to you tourists) for the exhilaration of speedily steering our two foot wooden sleds over the snow – it was hard kid work, but we LOVED it, and for sure we slept like little rocks at night.

I am sure everyone has their own version of our beloved Hynes field – so as we approach the start of the winter – we’d love to hear about your fun sledding memories – city, suburb, or country!

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Newly Retread tables – yum!

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Check out these just off the workbench vintage tables! Hurry – these guys are like candy and won’t last long.

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RRR!

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Reduce, ReUse, Recycle! Here are some November offerings to accent the RRR mantra..

Got blue eyes girlfriend?  Then check out this blue green triple strand Coro necklace – one of my favorite costume jewelry brands – it is in excellent condition and can truly be used year round as a “show off your tan” piece in summer, or matched up in winter with your conservative suit for the board meeting persona..(I’d pop it with a chocolate brown or bone Lois Lane giddyup)

Doug – our retreading genius – has done it once more with this matching mahogany dresser and tallboy – redone in a crisp Atrium White – with great big drawers to hold all your gear. These pieces are likely from the early 20th century – and are solidly built. No pressboard here! And admit it – doesn’t pressboard irritate you ? I mean, what actually IS pressboard? Ever get it wet and then it balloons like those miracle sponges we used to be flabbergasted at when we were young? C’mon – that stuff  cannot be wood.

And lastly…the perfect laptop desk – empire style walnut painted in Spanish Olive – this versatile piece can also work has a hall table or kitchen command post.  Doug mixed up a custom color to accent the edges ever so slightly – it’s really a great restore job.  Hey – We all work so hard – shouldn’t we have something elegant to sit at while we toil?

I had a blast in the Low Country doing my own brand of RRR – rest/relax/revitalize – and the learning was simple – you are WAY more productive with rest breaks!  So hall pass everyone – if you’re due for recess – ring the bell! 

~TGIF~

and p.s.  – don’t forget to check out our new neighbor – Top it Off Accessories at 162 Spring – gorgeous stuff!

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Road Trip Treasures

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The first stash from the thrift store road trip! What is it about a road trip that lightens the mental load?  Just the act of “getting out of Dodge” brings great perspective, sprouts of energy and bursts of renewal. And what about the legendary roadtrips of the celluloid and tv universe?  There was of course the famous “Animal House” insanity, where we couldn’t HELP but roar hilariously as that poor Lincoln turned into a junk yard dog… or the truly outrageous cross country escapades of “I Love Lucy” – I mean really? How did they write so brilliantly and perform so naturally? And then of course, hands down, was the King of all road trips – the handsome Captain Kirk in “Star Trek” (and its G rated little cousin “Lost in Space”) YES, I am one of THOSE Star Trek people, and yes, I do reference dialogue from the show in everyday life… Hailing Frequencies Open, Captain..aww, c’mon, admit it,  don’t you just LOVE Star Trek?

So….Speaking of renewal – check out the beauties I scored on Day 1 of my roadtrip in the Low Country..not one, but two beautiful vintage purses and a wonderful brooch the shape of a lobster!  The silver lamé is from the 1950s, and was likely worn with a bright jewel color (think aqua, magenta or coral) taffeta cocktail dress with many tulle layered petticoats.  Yes – do you actually remember a world where petticoats lived??? I think they are now on the endangered species list… as for the cocoa brown clutch from the 1930s – it  has a beautiful creme satin lining with a matching change purse.  Very Marlene Dietrich cool..  And the Lobster Pin?  Well  — hello? That’s just for fun.

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Meet George Jetson…

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Meet George Jetson…Jane his wife…daughter Judy, his boy Elroy! Can’t you hear the entire intro to that show in your head? In my house, we would sit around and watch, pie eyed, loving every second the dog Astro would take his “skywalk” on his outdoor treadmill, always a little scared that he might fall off! Let’s see…I would have been wearing my red PF Flyers – which I loved because I felt SO 1960s american girl in them, cuffed blue denim jeans with red stitching, and some type of flannel plaid shirt.  Adorning my brunette pixie do would be an aluminum barrette, (another example of Yankee ingenuity)  – the kind that snapped in and snapped out (with which I would, of course, annoy my mother to no end – snap in, snap out, snap in, snap out, until the poor woman would kindly but firmly take it away and put it back in my head)..

That was the early 60s. For us kids – it was full of sunshine and hopscotch and rockets and penny candy and picnics (real picnics where you would go to the park or beach, meet other families and sit at the wooden tables or aluminum folding lawn chairs and eat watermelon and see who could spit the seeds the furthest..`

Our parents had cocktail parties with Gimlets and Harvey Wallbangers, jello molds and cheese balls. They listened to Frank Sinatra records on the Hi-Fi.  They talked politics because they cared, and because they could, as everyone was polite and respected each other’s right to an opinion.  They sat on brightly colored streamlined ”modern” living room furniture – all with the resonance of the Atomic age, cousins to our little 3 tier beauty shown above. 

We may be a tad more jaded, a bit more weary, with what appears to be a country in shambles and no relief in sight. I think it deserves mention, however, that in the conscience of our vast population of Baby-Boomers, there still reside many kids in PF Flyers that again want to run faster and jump higher. Remember? Of course you do. Well don’t give up – there’s way more Dodge Ball to be played - c’mon and lace them up and let’s go…

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What’s Old is New again..

 

I LOVE jewelry.  My first purchase was a candy beaded necklace affair that I bought at Charlie’s for 5 cents.  I adored wearing it, chewing the beads off one by one, leaving my neck and chin a rather sticky mess, but feeling oh so glamourous nonetheless.

The ears were the next body part to be adorned.  As a little girl I would wear my mother’s clip on earrings until my head rang with the pain…racing around the house with  bright red lipstick, a plastic triple strand choker necklace and a scarf around my shoulders..  That was my first induction into the “no pain, no gain” beauty club. At age 12 my father pierced my ears for me.  More pain. It was a rather dramatic rite of passage, with all the family members crowding in the kitchen in attendance, watching, shouting, adding advice in three languages.  Chaos. My Big Fat Greek Wedding?  Pish. Have you met my family?

Well the piercing worked, and before long I had swinging gypsy hoops to match my love beads (purchased from Woolworth’s for 99 cents) to match my patched embroidered Landlubber hiphugger jeans procured from a strange head shop on Winter Street in town that always smelled of incense and something else…. Peggy Lipton was a far cry, but hey, I could dream.

College was Disco Inferno – so I won’t traumatize anyone with what we wore! Suffice it to say that it was tight, it was shiny, and that no organic DNA could be found in our get ups. 

BIG was the watchword for the 80s, with huge dangling earrings and necklaces, shoulder pads the size of Manhattan, along with REALLY, REALLY, big hair.  I wanted to be Alexis Carrington. (still do)

The late 80s and 90s brought kids, so it’s all still a blur.  If my shirt was on the right way I was happy. I do remember thinking I was being very avant garde (hahahahahahahaha) by adding a second hole in my ear.  Some odd place in Provincetown did the deed, and it wicked hurt for 3 weeks! Crazy.

And then, finally, and along with me, what’s old became new again.  I ask you – HOW FUN IS THAT??

A few necklaces from my mother that I wore playing dress-up all those years ago miraculously survived. And while many beloved brain cells have lost their way,  the ones I still have enjoy mixing those vintage items with the latest fashion offerings. It’s a lovely combination of nostalgia and hip, and one that is really, really cool.

TGIF folks – put it on, dress it up! Happy Weekend!

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The Sweater Quilt disease

It’s a disease, plain and simple.  The first contagion likely occurred when I shrunk a cherished cardigan and it came out looking like an American Girl Doll nightmare.  All tightened and minature and out of proportion – I am sure my neighbors heard the very loud, very colorful frustration.  What I had unwittingly performed as I grieved for my garment, was the magic of felting.

Felting occurs when 100% wool is washed and agitated.  It shrinks, thickens, and like Clark Kent in the phone booth, comes out in a super strong albeit smaller rendition of its original self.  You can actually CUT the wool after felting, and be left with a clean, unfraying edge.

Add in the propensity to never throw anything away that might have a use – a syndrome cheerfully blamed on my ever so frugal Armenian ancestors, and there you have it.. the onset of the sweater quilt disease. Imagine the possibilities – an almost infinite supply of  “passed on” wool garments, yearning to be chosen for reincarnation. 

M. Night Shyamalan – step to the side please!

Now I’m a great one for ideas – but since I am always overtasking myself, I am woefully horrid on execution.  Enter one of my very talented pals – Patricia – who is exceedingly clever in all things arts and crafts, (not to mention a top notch pediatric nurse). Progress to our pie in the sky notion of sweater-raiding every thrift store in Boston – gleefully (and admittedly a bit maniacally) shrinking our captured sweater zombies into oblivion, then slicing and dicing them with gusto into fun little squares that can be sewn  together to make a wonderful quilt blanket like Patricia’s creation above.  And, really, it’s not hard to do! (crossmyhearthopetodieifItellalie) 

I’m committed to at least making a pashmina size felted sweater scarf this fall, (maybe in cashmere..mmm so soft and warm..) so stay tuned..AND if you want to try one too – Let us Know! We’d love to start an online felting bee to help each other out.

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