This Is Holly and her Second Jim Flora Album Cover

I found another Flora! You'll never guess where I dug up this little treasure. In my own record collection. Yes, folks, that's right. It's been under my nose this whole time! Mr. Sweetheart unearthed it and was so excited he woke me from a nap yesterday to show me. I remember giving a sleepy thumbs up, and then forgot about the whole thing until this morning, when I had to ask if it had all been a dream. You see, after my last Jim Flora post, a certain Benny Goodman record looked awfully familiar. I became certain that I had had my hands on that wonderful record sleeve before.
I went through a phase where I collected old records simply for the vintage cover art. I had an idea that I would frame and hang them, or craft something with the sleeves after I had melted the vinyl into bowls. Well, a few record bowls later, and after a brief experiment involving covering a dining room wall with record sleeves hung with thumb tacks that I promptly deemed too "college", we had amassed far too many albums that weren't being played and had to clean house. Now Mr. Sweetheart is a very talented musician and songwriter, and, having a great love for any and every kind of music, has become the chief archivist of our large music collection. Twice he has edited our vinyl collection by giving those albums we no longer need to a good home (hello, Nick!), each time with an admonishment from me to please let me look through the rejects first. Well, I never get around to it, and he goes ahead and gives them away, and I never miss them, because, well, I really don't need them. But this time...Well, let's just say I was not happy that I could not find a certain Benny Goodman album. He argued that I didn't like Benny Goodman, and I didn't even know who Jim Flora was five years ago when I bought that record, and I argued that maybe not, but I know fabulous design when I see it, and would never have parted with such a masterpiece of mid century artistic expression by "a post-nuclear Miro", one which "juxtaposes playfulness, absurdity and violence". Okay, so maybe it didn't go down exactly that way, but you get the idea. You can see why he deemed it an important enough find to wake me from my slumber. Neither of us ever thought to check the 45's (it's a double). We both remembered it as an LP. All's well that ends well, and I love my growing little Flora collection. But not as much as I love that man of mine.

Cowgirl Mermaids and Other Things

As the mayor of Sweetheartville and an avid decorator, I decided it was high time our little town had some sprucing up, and what better way than with a good ol' fashioned embroidered cowgirl mermaid. Actually, being the forward thinker that I am, I began this project before this silly little blog was even up and running, anticipating that I would very quickly become bored with block letters for a title, and need something with more flair. Well, my html skills live right next door to nothing, but I am crafty, so here is my solution. She has been finished for quite a while, but has been waiting for our recent purchase of a scanner to make her debut. I'm now second guessing my choice to scan it, since the stitches don't look as sharp and realistic as I would like, with all the resizing. Maybe a photo would be better, to catch some shadows? I am also limited by not owning Photoshop and being a complete idiot about computers in general. It was only thanks to the Sweetheartville Town Council (otherwise known as Mr. Sweetheart) that I got this thing up in the first place. I'm such a perfectionist, I'm sure I'll have to tweak this a lot more before I'm happy with how it looks. I'll leave you with a tip about something I do know a little about-- embroidery. Here is an easy way to transfer an image to fabric without the hassle of carbon paper or transfer pens. Use a light box and a sharp #2. Don't have a lightbox? Neither do I, Dollfaces, but I do have a window. Just tape the paper and fabric to the glass and commence to tracin'. Of course this only works with light colored fabric, but there ya go. If any of you dolls or guys have banner making tips for me, won't you please share them?

Gay, Unorthodox Things

Girls, don't miss the fun of doing gay, unorthodox things at your kitchen windows! Now I know what you're saying, "But Holly, what will the neighbors think? Can it be true? Are you, style maven and trendsetter that you are, actually suggesting that we let our freak flag fly, in full view of the Joneses?" Why yes, Dollfaces, and if they can't handle such a carefully coordinated and thrilling display, then they are not thoroughly modern and are to be pitied. Just take a look at these clever ideas for whipping up some "bright little window wavers" and matching aprons from the April 1941 issue of Better Homes & Gardens magazine. What was that, Hon? Why yes, I'm talking about stitching up some darling kitchen curtains with aprons to match. What on earth did you think I meant? Especially gay is the "Weights and Measures" duo "with kitchen facts and figures worked out in white bias tape." And to complete the vignette, "alongside hangs an old-fashioned slate."I collect and use vintage aprons, just as my mama, the original vintage vixen, did while I was growing up. We were vintage when vintage wasn't cool, and would don aprons from the 40's and 50's that she had collected from estate sales as we baked up a mess of Christmas cookies and fudge while we listened to Patsy Cline, Dwight Yoakam, Reba McEntire, or George Strait. (We were also country, but by that time it was moderately cool, thanks to Urban Cowboy.)

Here is a favorite from my collection, with an African safari themed fabric and green and gold rick-rack trim. If only I had yards and yards of this fabric, I could whip up the gayest kitchen curtains ever.

Pink Ladies

Last week the whole family took a trip to the zoo. Sugar Pea is a little young to appreciate the animals, but my two year old niece, Alex, really got into the merry-go-round, the petting zoo and the monkeys, which are her favorite.

My favorite, and the highlight of any zoo trip, for me, are the flamingos. I just love to watch them bicker and fuss at one another.

They honk and squabble and fluff their feathers out like a bunch of painted up, teased and sprayed, bitchy hairdressers, which may be why they amuse me so much. Standing next to their enclosure, I was reminded of the year I spent in beauty college and the two years I worked as a salesgirl/shipping and receiving manager/stocker/accounts receivable clerk/phone answerer/janitor/ everything- else-that-running-a-small-business-requires-but-without-the-glory-of-ownership-or-profits-person at a professional only beauty supply. In case you were unaware, beauty operators can be a dramatic lot, so much so that after getting to know a couple hundred or so from the beauty supply, I questioned whether I really wanted to join their ranks, leading the drama free lifestyle that I do. But for all their gossip and bickering, many stylists are also creative, hard working, and generous. The possibility of freedom of expression coupled with freedom to control one's own career was what attracted me to the industry, not to mention my fabulous and classic sense of style *wink*. After all, it will take more and more of those of us who are bright and seriously business minded entering the field to elevate the industry above outdated stereotypes. But I digress...

So I love flamingos, and I learned something about them. Did you know that the joint that you see in their leg is actually their ankle, not their knee, which lies further up the leg, hidden in their feathers? And, did you also know that they can live upwards of forty years, some at the Tulsa Zoo having been in captivity since 1964? (I have an image in my mind of a flamingo sporting an orangey-pink beehive and cat's eye glasses, a long cigarette dangling from her beak while she backcombs another bird's coif within an inch of its life and bitches about the high cost of Stylac these days.)

I'll leave you now with my collection of vintage ceramic flamingos. Someday I'd like to have my own little beauty shop, perhaps in my home, and if and when I do, you can bet these beauties will be on display, chips, cracks, bitchiness and all.

Signs of the Time

There once was a time when people lived with style, when even the most humble twelve room motor court called out to road weary travelers with sherbet colored boomerangs, triangles, and trapezoids. With names like Starlight, Oasis, Sky Ranch, Sandman, Wagon Wheel, and Hawaii, these motels advertised their clean sheets and reasonable rates with neon glamour. Each sign was a masterpiece of modern design, a vertical sculpture by the side of the road. It has been my desire for several years to photograph what remains of this vintage signage, both as appreciation for great design, and for posterity, as these midcentury gems are fast disappearing from the American landscape.
Here are three classic motor lodges located along 11th Street in Tulsa, which used to be part of Route 66. I'm working on my fledgling photography skills, and hope to be able to capture and share some of these, and others, in all of their night time, neon glory, as my previous attempts have been pretty sorry. In the mean time, Dollfaces, I've been snapping away while the sun shines, and will be sharing a lot more vintage signage with you in days to come.

I Found a Flora

Remember that GIANT box of records I scored at the estate sale? Guess what. I found an album cover by Jim Flora! Just who is this Jim Flora, you ask? James Flora was a prolific artist and illustrator, best known for his jazz and classical album covers of the late 1940's and the 1950's. I have been an admirer of his work for some time, but only recently had a name to which I could attribute these wild, vibrant, fantastic illustrations that would catch my eye as I ran across them from time to time. His stylized figures are prone to having an extra leg here, a third eye there, or an arm bent far beyond the limits of human anatomy. Since discovering Jim Flora and his art, I've had it in my mind to seek out any and all album covers I could find with that unmistakable beatnik style. These albums can go for big bucks on Ebay, even the less desirable ones fetching upwards of fifty or sixty dollars during a recent search. Now, mine's no Mambo For Cats (one of the most rare and coveted of these covers), hell, it's not even in great shape--the edges of the sleeve are reinforced with yellowed tape, but it's a little piece of affordable artwork by one of my favorite artists. So now the search continues for more of these small treasures hidden in musty cardboard boxes at estate sales and thrift stores. I'll keep you updated! Go check out this great Jim Flora blog by the authors of The Mischievous Art of Jim Flora and The Curiously Sinister Art of Jim Flora, both of which are high on my wish list right now.

Puttin' My Little Red Shoes Away

I got new shoes! I've been desperately needing some since The Great Foot Spreading of '06, otherwise known as pregnancy with a nearly 10 pound baby. I've wanted some classic Minnetonkas for quite a while, and I'm now the proud owner of some red suede thunderbird moccasins. I know what you're saying, "But, Holly, of the four pair of shoes you own that fit, you already have two pair that are red. That's about as practical as a screen door on a submarine!" Yes, but have I told you how much I love red shoes? In other late-breaking and important news...Man, I love me some Snowballs!

Big Boy and Aunt Chick

Sugar Pea and I hit an estate sale and two garage sales this morning where, despite being dressed in a white shirt with orange ruffles and butterflies, she was repeatedly mistaken for a he. Apparently if a baby is wearing jeans, said baby is automatically assumed to be male, aka a "bruiser". Take a look at what we scored. Besides a GIANT box of records for ten bucks, I found a turquoise plastic bowl with a lid and a fancy cheese cutter(?) to add to my constantly expanding collection of 50's and 60's turquoise things, mostly kitchen ware, but also furniture, clocks, and ceramics. And I found a pretty turquoise and gold ashtray, and an old metal colander with legs. Though it leans a little further late 60's than I generally go for, I bought the insulated drink server should another occasion arise like the soiree I was privileged to attend last evening where, being the designated beverage person, I would have loved to provide some ice cold "Sweet Tea" had I only possessed the means to transport it and serve it with vintage flair. Instead I brought various kinds of pop, or soda for those of you in locales farther north. I also scored these old cookbooks, the prize of which was the "Big Boy Barbecue Book" put out by the Big Boy Manufacturing Co. of Burbank, California in 1956. It's full of really useful cooking and grilling tips and recipes, not to mention fabulous illustrations and technicolor photos. Lest you think it's all about meat, take a look at the Fruit Drink Coolers which, we're told, "belong in the easy-does-it department". Also interesting is the well worn and loved copy of "Aunt Chick's Pies", a cookbook and mail order catalogue dating from 1953 packed with instructions and tips for making perfect tarts, ravioli, cookies, doughnuts, and pies, as well as several ingenious pie pans and utensils and the cutest cookie cutters you ever saw for sale. It's written by Aunt Chick, herself, in a very girlfriendish, down to earth manner with sections like, "Meringue...Let's Talk It Over". Yes, let's.
Being intrigued by the local Tulsa address for the company, I did a Google search and turned up this informative article on Nettie Williams McBirney, better known as Aunt Chick. Well, butter my biscuits! You learn something new everyday. See, Dollfaces, junk collecting can be educational, as well as economical and fun.Last, but certainly not least, I found this little leather cowgirl vest for Sugar Pea to dress up in when she's a little bigger. She'll be cuter than a basket of speckled puppies when she wears it with her little red cowboy hat and vintage gun holsters.

Toothy McGee

Today Sugar Pea is 5 months old and cutting her first two little teefs. In celebration, I thought I'd show you some stuffed animals I made from vintage fabrics for her while she was still in the pod. They're posing in an antique sewing cabinet my grandma just gave me. The sock monkey I made recently. I dubbed him "Lumpy" because the over-stretchy dollar store socks just wouldn't hold the stuffin' smoothly. The corduroy bird is my favorite, and Sugar Pea's, too. (No, there are not rubber bands around her little arms and legs. She's actually that cute and roly poly!)

We're spending this overcast Spring day cleaning house, watching birds build a nest in our porch light, drooling, and listening to my dad's great record collection I recently inherited. There's lots good old stuff: Flatt and Scruggs, Hank Williams, The Seldom Scene, Ricky Skaggs, The Whites, Country Gazette, Roy Acuff, Norman Blake, Pink Floyd, Ten Years After, Tony Rice, Jerry Douglas, Doc Watson, lots of others, and these two, which I nearly had a faintin' spell over. Hot Rize, by, you guessed it, Hot Rize and Lost in the Ozone by Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen, both of which I have wanted to own for pretty much my entire life. Some of this stuff is so old and rare, I doubt you could find many other copies on vinyl, let alone on cd.

Well, Dollfaces, I hope your teeth are painless, your music is good, and you live like it's goin' out of style, because, well, it is. On that note, check out 43 Things, which Mr. Sweetheart brought to my attention after my long, impassioned speech about how I want there to be no regrets when my race is run.

'Scuse Me While I Powder My Nose, Hon

Time for show and tell. Being a licensed Cosmetologist, or "Beauty Operator", as I prefer for its ol' fashioned charm, one of the many collections I have amassed is an ever growing assortment of vintage hair, makeup, and beauty products. I don't actually use these potions, I simply collect them for the aesthetic value of the darlin' little jars, bottles, boxes, tins and compacts they came in. It's actually becoming quite an obsession, forcing me to purchase more shelving to hold all my lovelies. They just don't package things the way they used to.
Below are three of my vintage powder compacts. Recognize the pattern on the one on the left? Yep, it's Air Spun pressed powder by Coty. They've been using that instantly recognizable design since it was introduced in 1935. This compact is a recent acquisition, and I have been unable to find another one like it anywhere on the web, leading me to believe that it's either extremely rare and valuable, or just another piece of dust-collecting junk, hardly worthy of a listing on ebay. The latter is more likely. My favorite is the square, ribbon-tied compact-- so girly and glamorous, don't you think? In my purse I carry a "Golden Alligator" refillable compact that I acquired during my stint as an Estee Lauder counter girl during beauty school. I secretly enjoyed being a "Lauder Girl", despite the required uniform. Confession: Actually, one of the reasons I enjoyed it, besides the free makeup and gal pal camaraderie, was the uniform. I was hired just as they made the change from dowdy beige polyester to a fabulous streamlined navy suit. So very Jackie O with a short, collarless jacket with 3/4 sleeves and one giant button at the neck. It felt very chic and fabulous and vintage to be called a "Lauder Girl". I imagined myself as a finger-waved, cupid's bow-lipped, single gal who went to jazz clubs with the other girls after we left work at some high ceilinged, marble laid department store in Chicago. In reality, I was working at a Dillard's in a crappy mall in Oklahoma, on top of a second job at a beauty supply, on top of 35-40 hours a week of beauty school, all while commuting an hour to the big city from Hillbilly Hell. This fantasy must've been a coping mechanism, but an extremely glamorous and imaginative one, wouldn't you agree?Although it's difficult as a busy mama of a 4 month old, I try to inject a little glamour into my everyday life. An elegant gold compact for touch ups is one tiny way to feel like a vintage vixen, if only for a moment. Hope you liked this little show and tell session, 'cause there's plenty more where this stuff came from!

Get Your Giant Whale Fix on Route 66

Spring has gone and sprung here in Tornado Alley, and after a long winter cooped up with a colicky newborn, I was ready for a change of scenery and some fresh air. So last week Mr. Sweetheart and I loaded up our little Sugar Pea and all her accoutrements, and headed out for a short day trip. Since we live just two miles from old Route 66, we thought we'd see a couple of the famous landmarks this part of the Mother Road is known for.
Not far from Tulsa lies Catoosa, Oklahoma, a town of about 6,000. It was here in 1970 that Hugh Davis, the retired director of the Tulsa Zoo, chose to express his deep, abiding love for his wife, Zelta, on their anniversary by presenting her with a giant concrete and steel whale. Not exactly a diamond tennis bracelet, but sweet nonetheless. Actually, it's extremely sweet considering he constructed the 80 foot mammal mostly by himself, with occasional help from a friend who could weld. It seems Zelta collected whale figurines, so the gesture was actually very thoughtful, and, it is assumed, put the tchochkes and knick knacks in her collection to shame. And isn't a homemade gift from the heart always better than some impersonal store bought item?

The whale was originally intended to be a fun replacement for a rickety old dock the family used when they swam in the spring fed private pond on their property. But an enormous, smiling, bright blue whale just off Route 66 attracted more than a few visitors. Locals and road trippers came by the hundreds to jump off its tail, slide down its fins, and relax in the shade near the pretty little pond. Well, what could Mr. Davis do but truck in sand, build some equally cartoonish concrete picnic tables, erect a concession stand and open the attraction to the public? The property already contained an alligator farm and a huge wooden boat that housed a snake pit and other exhibitions called the A.R.K. (Animal Reptile Kingdom). My mother in law grew up just down the road from "Nature's Acres", as the attraction was called, and can remember riding her bike there almost daily during the summers to swim and see the gators. In fact, the alligators provided quite a thrill for visitors since they were allowed to slither and swim freely, with no walls or fences to separate them from the small children who regularly roamed the park. My mother in law remembers once being alone and trapped on a small island, forced to wait out a huge gator until it finally lumbered away, unblocking the low bridge that had led her there. Amazingly, there were never any maimings or accidents, and Hugh had full faith in the gentleness of his reptiles. I'm not sure he could afford to be so relaxed in today's world of rampant lawsuits. Another memory she has of the kind and thoughtful Mr. Davis is the time she brought him a litter of coyote pups she had rescued. Later he told her he had traded them to a zoo in Japan, and outside their habitat a plaque would read, "Donated by Kalyne _____". She was thrilled to know her name would be displayed on the other side of the world.

in the belly of the beast

a portal to one of the fin slides

the diving platform on the tail

In 1988, with their health failing, Hugh and Zelta could no longer maintain the attraction and made the decision to close it to the public. In 1990 Hugh died, and without his creator, the blue whale fell into a deep depression and began to deteriorate. In 1997, volunteers and the Catoosa Chamber of Commerce revived the old guy, and he once again smiles (despite the addition of a giant hook to his lip) and beckons visitors from the side of the highway. In 2002, further sprucing up was done, and the whale and his little park, complete with bathrooms, are open to the public. Swimming is no longer allowed, but looking at the algae-choked, muddy water you'd have to be a much braver soul than I to attempt it, anyway.

the old ark

It's so great to see a relic from the past resurrected and maintained with such care. Too many pieces of our shared history are slowly eroding and will not last for our children and their children to enjoy. You can learn more about the blue whale and Catoosa here and here. Well Dollfaces, I hope you enjoyed yourself on this little excursion as much as I did. I'll save the next destination on our trip for another time.

Howdy, Dollface!

Hello and welcome to Sweetheartville, my little town chock full of vintage, crafty goodness. With this humble project, I plan to share some of my favorite things, show you some local sights, and hopefully make a few friends along the way. You'll see roadside attractions, vintage collections, vintage hairstyles, vintage decorating tips, stuff I make, stuff I like, and enough thrifty bargains to fill a ten gallon hat. So visit often, won't you?

Next time I'll take you on a little trip to meet a big fish in a small pond...