A Birthday, An Award, And More Random Stuff

Ahhh.....it's FRIDAY!!!!!!

The best day of the week, dontcha know.

And this Friday, July 16, happens to be my hero's birthday, Ms. Ginger Rogers.

Today she would have been 99, a fact that seems mind boggling to me.  I spend so much time with my head stuck in the past, and all of these people seem so real and currant and are very important to my life that I "forget" that they're either very elderly, or passed on.  I know, silly huh?

Anyway, in tribute to Ms. Rogers, I thought I'd post a clip of one of my favorite comedic Ginger scenes ever, the infamous catfight scene from Vivacious Lady:




ha...ha....ha.....  :)   It doesn't get any better than that.

Moving on....

I've received another blog award!  Thank you to Bonnie of themuse30 for thinking I'm worthy.  *bows down* I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy!  Ok, that was my Wayne and Garth moment for the day.  Hopefully that was it.  Anyway, thanks again Bonnie! :) 

As part of the "rules" for receiving the award, I'm to reveal 7 random things about myself and then pass the award on.  Here goes.....

1.  I've been a chronic nail biter all my life, occasionally stopping once in a while to let them grow out all long and girly, but inevitably I'll cycle round to biting them again.  Currently I'm in a long and girly phase, and I'm hoping it will last!

2.  When I was in Jr. High School I was in the Miss Junior America Pageant.  My 15 minutes of fame came by association when in the dressing room the girl next to me zipped my dress up for me...she went on to win the pageant and got a modeling contract with Seventeen magazine and Cover Girl.

3.  I took ballet lessons for several years growing up, and even got up to pointe shoe level.  I never really took it seriously though or even practiced (wow, you have to practice!?) and was relieved when my mom let me quit in the 9th grade.

I've thought about trying to find somewhere around here that gives adult lessons....maybe when I've lost more weight....hmm....

4.  It would be a sad, sad, sad world without Diet Coke.  Hi, my name is Betsy and I am a Diet Cokeaholic.

5.  In addition to ballet, I also took piano lessons for several years, and violin lessons through the school; I played in the orchestra from 4th grade through my senior year of high school.   As if that weren't enough, I also sang in choir.  Call me a jack of all music, master of none.

6.   I'm a Harry Potter geek.  I re-read the books at least once a year, watch the films several times a year, frequent Harry Potter websites and message boards, and my new trip destination (when we have any money again) is the new Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios in Orlando.  I want to knit myself a Gryffindor scarf, and I will wear it proudly (right after I finish Husband's Minnesota Vikings scarf.....that's been quite the frustration and deserves a blog unto itself!)

7.  I'm also a Laura Ingalls Wilder geek.  If finances would have allowed it, right now I would be at the first Laurapalooza conference in Mankato, MN.  I read biographies and scholarly essays about her, frequent blogs and message boards devoted to her, and have even visited one of her Little House home sites in DeSmet, SD (with Husband patiently in tow).  My dream trip would be to roadtrip to all of the Little House sites and museums one right after the other.....right after my trip to Orlando, hehehe.

So there you have some fabulous random knowledge about little ol' me.  Aren't ya glad?  :)  As for passing on the award, I have way too many blogs that I adore, so I am passing it on to everyone!  Now go pat yourself on the back, copy the award to your blog, and post your 7 random things.  Because I said so.

I have quite the story to relate, but that will have to wait for further developments.  Let's just say that after having blogged about my dad's side of the family so much, now my mom's side gets a turn!  Blog most definitely to come.

Have a fabulous weekend, watch some Ginger tonight and stay COOL out there!

                       

Square Pegs

There's a thread over at The Fedora Lounge discussing what initially sparked members' interest in the Golden Era.  Was it the movies, music, a specific TV show, what?

It got me to thinking back over my life, and how I've always felt at odds with everyone and everything around me.  Out of sorts.  The proverbial square peg searching for a place to fit in.

Looking back, I certainly have enough evidence to justify feeling that way.....

*When I was born, my parents were in their early 40's, so already there's a generation gap right from the start.

*Add to that, my dad was the youngest of 13 kids.  So by the time I was born, all of my aunts and uncles were old enough to be my grandparents....and my first cousins were old enough to be my parents.  My second cousins were the ones close to my age group.

*Because of the timing of births, I'm only one generation removed from the 19th century.  My grandparents were born in 1877 and 1889.  It's a bit mind boggling when I think about it too much. 

*My family and I moved five times by the time I reached the age of six.

*I started school earlier than I should have, entering kindergarten at age 4.  Long story as to why, but it's a decision my parents regret to this day.  I was not emotionally and socially mature enough to fit in with my class, despite being able to handel the academic work.  (except for math that is, *shudder*)

*Because of this, I was bullied and teased unmercifully by other girls in my grade no matter how hard I tried to fit in.  I was the one no one wanted to play with and was always the last to be chosen for teams in PE class.

*Because my parents were older, there was a disconnect with current pop culture, something I highly resented at the time.  I couldn't understand why my parents weren't like other kids' parents.  It intensified my feeling of not belonging. 

*I wasn't mature enough to see the forest for the trees....I wasn't able to plot my own course with my likes and dislikes and not care what anyone else thinks.  At that age, fitting in and belonging can be so crucial to a child's well-being.....especially for a child who was as sensitive as I was.  Children can be so, so cruel and viscious to each other....girls sometimes more so. 

*It didn't help that my class was considered one of the most "snobbiest and cliquiest classes to ever pass through our city's school system".  I actually heard a teacher say that to another in conversation when I was older.  I remember feeling vindicated at the time, to know that it wasn't just me who had felt that way.

*I didn't even fit in with the "nerds," because I wasn't "nerdy" enough.  I enjoyed Star Wars and Star Trek and sci-fi/fantasy stuff, but for the basement-dwelling dungeon master folk, you had to be invested in it hard core to belong.  There wasn't room for people like me with just a casual interest.

*If there was a clique that had existed of kids who read Little House on the Prairie and Anne of Green Gables obsessively and whose idea of fun was to dress up like Laura Ingalls and pretend we were back in pioneer days, that would have been the clique for me.  Alas, there wasn't.  Of course.

Now, I don't relate all of this to feel sorry for myself or to get pats on the back.  I had just been woolgathering and analyzing why I am who I am.  And why I am attracted to all things 1950's and earlier.

Having had older parents, and older extended family, I was exposed at an early age to stories and customs of a bygone era.  Those experiences were weaved into the fabric of my being, even if I wasn't consciously aware of it at the time. 

The bullying I endured in school turned me insular.  I had always been a quiet, introspective child, but I became even more so because of those scarring experiences.  This turned me into an avid reader....I could escape for hours at a time into another century, to a place where people understood me (at least in my mind).  Sometimes, my books were my only friends.

I liked old things.  I liked learning about them, reading about them, looking at them in antique stores, seeing them on TV.  But, none of my peers did.....so this I kept to my insular self, even as I grew into an 80's MTV teenager with mall bangs.  Thankfully, I did have a small handful of friends in high school who at least enjoyed some of the old movies with me.  We'd get together for Fred and Ginger nights....probably more often than they wanted to!

But after high school, through college, through my first marriage and well into my second one, I still never felt like I belonged anywhere.  I don't have any girlfriends....making friends "in real life" was always a painful, awkward experience that always led to more pain and awkwardness so I generally shy away from forming any kind of bond with my fellow females.  I can cordially and politely get along with co-workers, but never take it past the acquaintance stage. 

So where am I going with all of this? 

Well, in 2007 I had a raging obsession with all things Victorian happening (I've always been attracted to the 19th century, but at times it's more intense than others, lol) and I was randomly searching the internet on Vicorian hairstyles.  Not because I was intending to wear them, mind you, I just had a burning curiosity as to how they achieved them.  This search led me to a site that showed how to do 1940's hairstyles, and that site led me to discover The Fedora Lounge. 

After reading through a few posts, my obsession with Victoriana dissipated quickly.  Here was everything I ever wanted to know about how those beautiful ladies in the movies from the 30's and 40's achieved their gorgeous hair, and makeup, and......wait a minute!  Do you mean to tell me that there's people who actually dress like this everyday!?  There's women who actually do their hair and makeup like this and go to work looking like they just stepped out of 1940?  What?  There's people who actively seek out Art Deco home furnishings and choose to use old bakelite telephones!?  What?

My head was spinning, literally.  It had never, NEVER occurred to me that there were people so obsessed with the past that they chose to live their life dressed and surrounded by as much of the past as possible.  I loved it.

I knew I had found my niche.  These were people I could understand, people who felt out of sorts with the world around them, for whatever reason.  I've always described myself as an "old soul," and here were other kindred old souls who "got it." 

The more I delved into learning about the Golden Era, the more I fell in love with it.  I had liked it thanks to Ginger Rogers and the other old movies I loved, but I had never taken my interest beyond that.  Until now.  And the more I learned, the more I was led to other resources beyond the lounge.....including all of you wonderful vintage-philes here in Blogland. 

My obsession with the past can, at times, be a lone, solitary adventure.  My darling husband shares my interest, but not as deeply as I.  (but he humors me whenever he can)  I know of no other people in my geographical location that shares my interest in the Golden Era; I often get insanely jealous reading about others who have the opportunity to go to vintage-themed events and gatherings, or who have friends who are "in the scene" and dress vintage too.  Not that I dress vintage.....yet.  That's actually one of my motivating factors for the weight loss, so that I can buy repro from the online shops that don't carry plus sizes.......but I digress.

My point is, that even if it's only online on the interwebz, I now feel like I have a home port where I can be myself and no one will think me odd if I spend hours researching how to make a pin curl, or gush about some little tidbit like my milk glass pepper shaker.  This square peg has found it's square hole, and it's swell!

So what about you, dear readers.....what sparked YOUR interest in the Golden Era?

Summer!

Summer is here, complete with heat, humidity, and pesky mosquitoes.  The little buggars love me so much that I can't even go outside for one minute without being attacked.  I currently have 5 bites on my face that make me look like I have zits.  Hurray for summer!

Now, where's that sarcasm font....

I really do despise the heat, so for those of you who love it,  I apologize in advance for offending you.  Heat = Sweat, and Sweat = Yucky.  As much as I love all things vintage, this is one area where I fully embrace modern technology.....Air Conditioning!  Can not, and will not, live without it.  So there.

Perhaps it would be different if I felt I could wear cutesy sundresses and shorty-shorts, or even a bathing suit to go swimming in.  Alas, at this point, I cannot. 

I have gotten off track on my weight loss journey.  I have not gained any weight back (hurray!), but I have not progressed any further (booo!).  So, my goal of reaching 60 pounds lost by October will have to be adjusted.  But, starting today, I am re-motivated to get back on the ol' horse and get to gallopin'!  I'm still proud of myself for getting to 20 pounds lost, and if I were already at my target goal, I'm doing all of the right things to maintain.  But, I'm not at my target goal, so I need to stop pretending that all I need to do is maintain.  I didn't go through all of this hard work to remain at 175 (technically, for the last two months I've been hovering between 172-175).  I will be 135 again, I will, I will!

So, I have next summer to look forward to for wearing things such as these:

(funny aside, this polka dot dress I actually found on a clearance rack at a department store here, and lusted after it immediately.  It was also in a size 16, which I thought, hey, after losing 20 pounds, surely it will fit!  Alas, it was too tight in the waist.  I was tempted to buy it anyway knowing I'd eventually fit into it, but I talked myself out of it.  Now that I know I can find it online - I ripped this photo off of Overstock.com where I found it - I just may have to buy this one.  It's so 30's-inspired, don't you think?  Yes Husband, this is THE dress I was going on and on about.)

For those of you in the US, have a safe and happy 4th of July weekend!

Memorial Day

Last night Husband and I watched a fantastic classic, "The Best Years Of Our Lives."  Made in 1946, starring Dana Andrews, Fredric March and Myrna Loy, it deals with returning WWII veterans trying to readjust to their old civilian lives.  There is also a very poignant performance done by a man who, prior to this movie, had never acted before in his life.....Harold Russell.

Mr. Russell was an actual veteran who had lost both his hands in the course of duty, and had learned to use prosthetic hooks to manage those everyday tasks we take for granted.  The director, William Wyler, had seen Mr. Russell in an Army film that featured different veterans, and thought he would be perfect for the part of Homer Parrish.

Homer returns home to find his family doesn't know how to react to his disability, which causes him to push away his fiance, Wilma, thinking she won't want to marry him now.  She tries to tell him she wants to marry him anyway....the following scene from the movie Homer shows Wilma just what they'd be up against, to see if she can handle it.  Wilma handles it beautifully.

True love doesn't let disabilities get in the way!

If you've never seen the movie and wish to watch it, I believe someone has uploaded it to YouTube in 10 minute increments. 

Two of my dad's older brothers, Charles and Clyde, both served in WWII.  Some photos from the family album:

And, a telegram sent from Clyde to the family back at home in Nebraska:

Have a great weekend, and remember to honor those veterans of all wars who fought to give us the freedom we know today.

Rain, Rain Go Away

This has been the chilliest, wettest spring that I can ever remember.  Normally by now we've had to turn on the air conditioner and I would be wearing capris and sandals.   Not this year, we still have our furnace running!  Heck, one day last week it only got to 40 F as a high and we had to pull our winter coats back out of the closet.  That same day last week it snowed 9 inches in the northwest part of the state.  Right now I'm in my office at work with my space heater running.  It's May for cryin' out loud!  Ahhh, springtime in Nebraska!  ;)

All of the rain we've had lately got me thinking about how people of the past handled rainy days. 

Remember rubber galoshes?  Raincoats?  Umbrellas?  Ladie's plastic head scarves?  I never see any of those things anymore, except maybe umbrellas once in a while. 

But even umbrellas are scarce.  It seems people would rather look like a bedraggled wet cat than take the extra few seconds to pop open an umbrella.  Again, it may be different elsewhere, but especially here on the college campus I work at, I hardly ever see students or staff using umbrellas when it's raining.  They're all wearing hoodies that are plastered to their soaking heads. 

Did I miss something, some cultural memo that states it's now uncool to use an umbrella?  Now, I'm aware that plastic raincoats and galoshes have been relegated to elementary school age children (and probably no higher than 2nd grade, as fast as kids grow up these days) for decades now, but umbrellas?

I guess it just goes to show how casual our culture is now.  Perhaps it's because women no longer wear elaborate hairstyles that would need more rain protection, I don't know.  But then, we've become so casual that we see nothing wrong with going to Walmart in our pajamas.  Or, rather, ratty sweatpants with a wrinkled t-shirt, because of course no one wears actual pajamas anymore, dont'cha know.

I'm sure if I came to work in a dress, heels, curled hair and red lipstick, wearing galoshes over my heels, using an umbrella, I would be looked at as if I just stepped off a spaceship from Mars.  Not that the dress, heels, hair and red lippy wouldn't make them look at me like that anyway, but I'm sure the galoshes would be the proverbial straw that broke the camal's back.

Aren't these galoshes from the Montgomery Ward 1936-37 catalogue lovely?  It's a shame they're now just a memory, except to us vintagephiles. 

What about you, do you utilize proper rain gear when heading out on a rainy day? 

A Salt Shaker Epiphany

Lately I've become absolutely enamoured with vintage salt and pepper shakers, and other misc. spice and sugar containers.  For some reason, they have come to epitomize quintessential vintage housewivery to me. 

A few months ago, I found this lovely art deco pepper shaker at an antique mall:

Along with these little cuties:

(you can just barely make out the raised lettering of "salt and pepper" on them, the camera didn't pick that up very well)

I'd become obsessed with trying to find the mate to the green pepper shaker above, which led me to scour ebay, etsy, and do various internet searches on every variation of "milk glass shakers" that I could think of.

Finally, one small tidbit of information led to another tidbit, and I discovered the green one had originally been made by a company called McKee, who made all sorts of glasswear in the 1920's - 50's.  Then, paydirt!  I found this posting yesterday on ebay:

Vintage McKee Glass Shakers

I'd found not just the mate, but the whole set!  I was just ecstatic!  Perfect condition with original bakelite tops.  Squee!!

I just HAD to have them.  HAD. TO.  Then, the mental battle started.

$34.95 for.....shakers?  Plus shipping?  Am I nuts?  With as tight as our finances are right now, am I actually considering this?  Over the last few months we've had some major expenses occur as everything with our home and cars decided to start breaking at the same time, not to mention the new furnace we had to buy last fall.  $34.95 is more than half my weekly grocery budget. 

But....but....look at them!  Look at how pristine the colors are!  Look at the arches on the sides and the font of the lettering and how it just screams art deco!  Imagine yourself using them as you cook, and how much like a vintage housewife you'll feel while doing so!

Ahh....now we get to the roots of it all. 

I got to thinking about all of this and how severe my reaction over wanting to purchase these was. 

Now, I've been in love with the "golden era" for years, but I realized that I was focusing more on the aesthetics of it all, how beautiful the decor and clothing were, how classy the people always looked (even 'real life' folk, not just the glammed up stars), and the feelings of sentimental nostalgia evoked when listening to old music and watching old movies.  All of that is fine and dandy, but I was forgetting one essential piece to the puzzle.

In trying to incorporate more "vintage" into my life, I thought the only way to do that was to surround myself with material things.  That if I filled my home with vintage decor and wore red lipstick, that would give me a bonafide vintage "lifestyle" to which I aspire. 

But....what does a vintage lifestyle really mean?  It probably means something different to everyone who lives it....is it just the material things?  What about something deeper?  Values....vintage values....that's the piece I realized I was missing.

If I were truly a 30's housewife and we were in the kind of financial straits we are now, the thought of spending that kind of money on something so frivolous wouldn't have even entered my mind.  I would be "making do and mending" and focusing all my efforts on how not to spend money. 

Now, all of this may seem silly but when it clicked in my head, it really did make an impact on me.  Over the last few months I've been going through a lot of changes.....sort of a new self-awareness, if you will....and this was just one more light bulb going off.  One more, "I get it!" moment.

When I realized that I, under no circumstances, could dare purchase these, it was actually a little heartwrenching.....but I walked away.  Silly me, getting so worked up over not being able to purchase salt and pepper shakers, of all things!  Like I was making some huge, noble sacrifice or something.  But hey, baby steps.  The important thing is, it's a start!

I'll never stop loving the aesthetics part of it all, and I'll continue on my quest to surround myself with vintage things as I can afford it.  Truly afford it.  But in the meantime I'll keep digging deeper into the bigger picture and work on my priorities.

(damn priorities!)   ;)

A Late Mother's Day Blog

A belated Happy Mother's Day to all of you mothers out there, I hope you had a fabulous day!

I was inspired by Jessica at Chronically Vintage, who recently posted a photo tribute to "mom" on her blog, to blog about a woman who I admire very much, my grandmother.  She had 13 children, of whom my dad is the youngest.

This was taken in the early 1960's, my dad is standing in the back row, second from the left.  In the middle, sitting in the front row third from the right, is his mother, my grandmother, Ethel, whose 1907 wedding photo I featured in my recent anniversary blog.  His dad passed away in 1945 after a long battle with cancer.

You only count 12 children in the photo, you say?  You would be correct; my grandmother's first child, Zelma,  died when she was only a year old, and the rest of the 12 above followed afterwards.  I always say my dad is the youngest of 13 rather than 12 though, because I think it's important to remember little Zelma....she counts too, even though she was taken from us so young. 

Sadly, my dad, and his sister Lela (front row, third from the left) are the only ones in that photo still living.  But I have such fond memories of all my aunts and uncles...I only wish I could have gotten to know them better as an adult, being better able to appreciate such things more now.

My grandmother weathered some very hard times.  When she and my grandfather were first married, they were reasonably well off as they settled down to farm in central Nebraska, as can be evidenced by the fact that the first seven children born all had formal studio portrait photographs taken (an expense poorer families couldn't make), such as this of little Zelma....

                                    

Losing Zelma must have been devastating, but that was just the beginning of bad times.  They made the mistake of moving to eastern Colorado and were hit with the worst timing....the Great Depression, and the Dust Bowl Years on top of it.  Gone were the years of affording nice baby portraits....as can be seen here by my dad's baby photo.

I can only imagine being a mother and trying to raise a family in those conditions.  I'm sure it was a relief, and hardship, as her older children began marrying and moving away.  Relief in that it was one less mouth to feed, but hardship in there goes one more pair of hands that used to help contribute to the work load.  Add on top of that my grandfather's battle with cancer with expensive treatments and trips to Denver hospitals, and health problems brought on by the never-ending swirl of dirt known as the dust bowl.  Both my grandmother and my dad's brother, Don, suffered from "dust pneumonia" which required stays in the hospital.  As faded as this photo of my grandparents looks, it's the dust in the air that makes it looks washed out.

I remember my dad and aunts and uncles telling stories from those days, about how the isolation and poverty on the farm almost drove my grandmother insane, and they joked about how when there was nothing else to eat she served "paste."  Flour mixed with water and a little sugar was breakfast, and flour mixed with water and a little salt was supper.  I don't know how close to the truth the paste story was, but I'm sure it wasn't far.  After my grandfather died, the remaining children at home all pitched in to help run things, including my dad dropping out of school at the beginning of 9th grade to help on the farm (he would go on to get his GED later on).

But for all the hardships, my dad and his siblings grew up to be some pretty fine folk with large families of their own.  Except for dad of course, who only had little ol' me.  ;)

My grandmother, who was always referred to as "Old Mom," died when I was just three years old, and so I only know her through photographs and stories.  I wish I could have had the chance to really know her....what wisdom and memories and stories she could have told!

My dad, grandmother, and little ol' me in 1973

So to all of you mothers out there, whether you have 10 kids or 1, or even just "fur-kids" (like me), thank you for all you do!