My Library, The Curiosity Cabinet

The "Cabinet of Curiosities", or Wunderkammer, has been a slight obsession of mine since I was a child (possibly coinciding with my first visit to the Harvard Museum of Natural History). The notion of the Cabinet of Curiosities began during the Renaissance, as a sort of predeccessor to the modern natural history museum. These cabinets, or sometimes entire rooms), were filled with objects taken most often from the natural world. Sometimes the objects were manipulations or alterations of naturally occurring specimens leaning toward the occult or mythological, such as chimeric taxidermy (like the Fiji mermaid) or mysterious crystals claiming to have powers.

16th century engraving (by Giuseppe_Maria_Mitelli) of the Curiosity Cabinet of Ulisse Aldrovandi.

Later, curiosity cabinets began to contain found objects as well, including pretty much anything that caught the fancy of the cabinet owner. That's where I find myself today.

When my husband and I moved into our current house almost five years ago we had been living together for a couple of years and so we knew each other's aesthetic tastes. The house is fairly small, but it has more bedrooms than we knew what to do with so we immediately decided to turn one room into a library of sorts. 

Slowly but surely our library (and to some degree, other rooms – as visitors can attest) has become our own little Cabinet of Curiosities. We collect lots of "strange" things like antique taxidermy, antique dresses and costume, paper ephemera, books, shells, sticks, bones... pretty much anything that catches our fancies. We teeter on the edge of "hoarding" pretty much every day, but having things displayed in this manor allows us to confidently say "We aren't hoarders; We're collectors!" (It's a fine line, I know...)

My husband is a comic book artist and illustrator, and his work has a very specific aesthetic (each piece is also similar to an illustrated Curiosity Cabinet) and so we justify keeping a lot of our found objects by calling them "drawing reference". It's amazing how often he pops into the library, now dually serving as my sewing studio, to grab a replica bird skull or a starfish so that he can get just the right angle on what he is drawing. 

I'll never forget the time I hosted an orchard cleanup potluck at my house and several of my horseback riding students came to help. Someone discovered the library on a trip to the bathroom and before I knew it I had a crowd of tweenager/teenagers in my room, whispering and pointing and asking all sorts of questions. They'd never seen anything like it, outside of a museum, and the notion that someone could have a collection like ours was certainly new to them. They still talk about it now, though it was at least three years ago! 

Today I thought I'd share a few photos from my library/curiosity cabinet/studio. The taxidermy we collect is all legitimately antique or of domestic/legal mounts - I'm a little paranoid about wildlife law! Some of the bones we have processed and cleaned, ourselves. In addition to the room itself, I have quite a few "mini-cabinets" and boxes that I have paper-crafted.

I will be posting a pre-Valentine's Day tutorial next week on how to make miniature curiosity cabinets like this for your secret admirée! They're a beautiful addition to any shelf/wall and since they are primarily paper-crafted you can add whatever you want to them to make them wholly your own! 

Okay, this one isn't really part of the library, but what is a Curiosity Cabinet without a resident feline friend? He's certainly curious!

Do you have any areas in your house that you think of as Curiosity Cabinets? 

Vintage Style Showcase: Scrumptious Late 1930's Scamparoos Oxfords

What's cuter than a pair of shiny vintage Oxfords with heavy detailing and original laces? Well, not much, that's for sure! These are "deadstock" shoes which means they were kept, unworn, until I purchased them. Their leather soles were unscuffed, their laces uncreased. They had little wrinkles on their tops as if someone may have tried them on, perhaps to walk across the carpeted shoe shop and back, but beyond that they were immaculate!

I had one heckuva time researching these shoes, so I'm hoping this blog post will help someone out some day, just in case there is another pair of Scamparoos out there. Apparently Scamparoos is a division of "Star Brand Shoes" which is nearly as obscure. Scamparoos appears to be their children's line of shoes, as the only pairs I can find (very few) are all sized in vintage children's sizing. Star Brand Shoes was originally a division of International Shoe Company which (it sounds like) simultaneously launched Poll Parrot shoes. It's all very confusing to read up on, since I'm gleaning information from old scanned newspaper articles and whatnot.

I've gleaned some really fascinating information through several snippets about Star Brand (often just image captions or bits of info on ebay auctions!) that in the 1940's, during the second World War, there was a leather shortage because Uncle Sam was buying all of the leather up for military use. During that time, Star Brand and Scamparoos Shoes were manufactured with wooden heels and/or molded rubber soles, despite their claim to only ever use leather.

After the war, they put out ads in several national news resources stating that they would offer a $5 reward, as well as complete re-soling to anyone who brought in their wartime inferiorly made Star Brand shoes. Isn't that cool? Companies really stood by their principles back then! :)

So anyway, these shoes in particular are a bit mysterious. They have leather soles, but with a molded rubber heel that has a label on it that is associated with military-wear. All I can imagine is that they were likely a young ladies' shoe designed for use in military offices and field. They are very practical, and incredibly well made. Despite being made with a utilitarian practicality, I just love the details on old oxford shoes from this era.

They're also the most comfortable shoe I own, and I own a lot of shoes! Between their comfort, aesthetic and mysterious backstory, these are my absolute favorite shoes!

 Do you have any footwear, new or old, that seems to have been made just for you?

Until next time, adieu!
xoxo Emily

Vintage Style: My Fashionable Family in Hats

I have so many family photos that I am just dying to share with you all. The people in my old family photos certainly seem fashionably keen, so much so that I don't know if it was just a reflection of the times or if it was really just that I have some seriously hip ancestry.

This first photo I want to share with you today appears to be from the mid 1910's. You see it has examples of some of the typical Edwardian formality and yet you don't yet see the practical changes that came about after the first world war (did I mention I'm a history geek?). Still, I'm inclined to say this is approaching (or even early) wartime because of the shorter skirts and lower, slightly more practical shoes, as well as the large pockets.

To be honest, a lot of my knowledge of clothing history is more British-based, and I'm still learning about the early 20th century American styles. My family was almost certainly already in North America by this time, though I don't really know who these women are. I'll have to ask my mother. :)

The thing I love about these old photos is that everybody appears to always wear hats, out of doors. The first photo is a great example of the silhouette of the Edwardian hat, while this next one shows the changes in silhouette to a more sleek cloche form. The hat material is also different, where a few of the earlier hats appear to be straw or lightweight fabric, the bottom shows a much heavier woolen-type hat.

Now this photo really makes me smile...

These ladies are posed next to a beautiful automobile (does anyone know the car make? There's a logo but I can't quite make it out...) with a 1930 license plate. In both photos, you can see that the elder women are dressed more conservatively while the younger women wear lighter colors and more modern cuts. In addition to the great cloche hats in this photo, make sure you take a peek at those shoes! I'm a sucker for 1920's cutout and t-strap shoes, and the pair on the right just makes me squirm with envy.

I've got plenty more where these come from, and I'm sure I'll be sharing them as we roll along here at Seven Magpies.

Do you have old family photos? What era are your favorites from?  

Vintage Inspired Crafting: Cardboard Ukelele

Nothing says 1920's like a dainty little ukelele (or ukulele - apparently both spellings are correct). In summer of last year I visited a flea market and spotted a vintage banjolele for sale. Unfortunately I didn't find it until right before we left and I didn't have enough cash left to purchase it, but it certainly stuck in my mind. I have a habit of picking up new instruments as hobbies, so since then I've toyed around with the idea of picking up a ukelele or banjolele several times. If only I could go back to that flea market!

Anyway, I got this wild idea while stuck at home sick this weekend that i could put together a ukelele with (mostly) things around the house. I'd seen DIY pages with cardboard instruments before so it wasn't a totally unique idea. First I did a bit of sketching and then some internet searching and finally found a great instructables page by eplunkett. It filled in the gaps in my sketched design and gave a great way to attach the strings (hinges!) so it was just what I needed.

 I won't go too much into detail on my process since you can definitely use the instructables, but I will discuss a few of the changes I made for a vintage aesthetic.

 For my design I used some doubled corrugated cardboard that we had on hand since it was stronger with less bulk. I was also careful to cut my layers on several different angles so that they would support each other and not flex. 

 I noticed in photos of the finished cardboard ukeleles online that you could see inside the sound hole to the back piece of cardboard, so I decided to add a bit of color. Yay, Periwinkle!

The Instructable calls for composite cardboard (also called chip-board, for those art-supply-store-junkies out there) in addition to the corrugated stuff, so I purchased matboard with the intention of using the colored side for the front of my ukelele.

It took me forever to decide on the aesthetic designs for this little lady. I toyed around with leaving it a simple color using the matboard, as well as paint, decoupage, wood burning, acetone transfer... and ultimately settled on a simple vintage print with a sort of "circusy" bohemian look to it. I have a couple of antique squeeze boxes and accordions that have cardboard bellows and they are often decorated similarly, so I'd imagine if cardboard ukeleles were a thing in the 1920s they'd look something like this. I kind of wonder if there were instruments like this because so many cheap "travel" instruments were mass produced at the time. 

I'll have another post for you soon to show you all the finished instrument. I'm very excited! Maybe I'll  even include a video of it in action! :)

 xoxo Emily

Emily's Vintage Fashion Inspiration for 2014

It's exciting to think of the new year as a clean slate for DIY projects, whether they involve new skills or old, whether they're challenging or simple. This is the season for planning and scheming and I'm so happy it's finally come! Of course, when we get to the winter doldrums in four weeks or so I'll be whining and crying about how I can't take the winter weather anymore, but I guess Michigan is like that...

So here is a sampling of the vintage fashion that I've been drooling over recently:

 To the right here is a dress that is listed as being from 1918, though I have to admit I'm kind of skeptical of the dating on it. It really seems to be later than that. Still, it's listed by a seemingly reputable vintage dealer in Chicago, so maybe they really do know their stuff.  

Anyway, I love the large, bold front plaiting, made more delicate by the embroidery and bead patterned trim. The small pleats along the bust are awesome too, especially with the texture of the silk. It's a dress that you know would cling to all of the right places, alluding to form and shape without revealing anything too daring.  

There is very little detail about this dress on the web site where I found it, but the delicate, relaxed-looking lines and starchy, intricate details are enough to make me want to draft a pattern inspired by it. Now I've just got to find a nice source for silk that isn't in terrible, gaudy colors!

This next one is a woolen day dress from 1924, designed by Chanel and I'm pretty sure it's from the Metropolitan Museum of Art's collection (Ya know, that seriously amazing fashion collection that they keep hiding in some dark secret place? That one.)

I'm having a hard time finding much information about this dress as well, but I almost wonder if it's a wool knit, based on the way that it drapes. I love the covered buttons and the chain detail. This is a great example of a mid twenties dress that might actually work for someone a bit bustier than the typical female silhouette of the era.

The piecing on this one is also very curious, and the diagonal lines seem like they would be flattering to a curvier lady. I can just picture this one with a pair of buffed brown oxfords, a set of pearls and a sage green cloche hat!

 This third photo is a period photo from 1942 of two members of the Women's Land Army, specifically the New South Wales division in Australia. The Women's Land Army, or WLA, was a division of the National Service and was a volunteer organization. The women of the WLA were responsible for much of the agriculture during the second World War. 

So anyway, this photo shows some great vintage overalls, or dungarees, and I am just dying to make myself a pair to throw on in the morning for farm chores. Theirs are most certainly army issued, so there wasn't much variation in them. I am currently drafting a pattern that allows for a thick cotton flannel lining and if they work well I may eventually do a pair lined in wool for the coldest of our Michigan months.  

I am constantly finding myself inspired by the women of the Land Army, as well as the thrifty utilitarian fashion of war-time. War brings about a sort of practicality in fashion that seriously stirs me.  

Finally I wanted to end with something a little less predictable. This dress is supposedly straight from the 1940's, though it's another one that I suspect is a bit later than the original poster has said. There is something so classically utopian/dystopian about this dress's design that reminds me of the aesthetic of older sci-fi movies like Blade Runner, and Dark City (and maybe even a bit of City of Ember). 

I love the seemingly pointless detail around the collar, and there is another tab with a strip of non-functional buttons down the back. It's so starkly contrasting against the utilitarian and somewhat stuffy, conservative cut of the dress. 

This just begs to be drafted and remade in a slubby neutral wool with some sort of wild button color (and maybe contrasting stitching or embroidery?) The possibilities are endless! 

Have you been seriously inspired by anything lately? Do you have any big projects planned for the new year? Thanks for checking in!

- Emily 

Work In Progress: Early 20th century Skating Skirt

Emily, here!

A week ago I was invited to attend an even called "Holiday Nights" at Greenfield Village, the open-air living history museum adjacent to the Henry Ford Museum. Holiday Nights is an amazing adventure into the past. The Village itself is an amalgam of historical buildings and "places", all arranged neatly along streets to provide a literal walk through history. There are houses and workshops, and even a factory originally owned by Thomas Edison, seated comfortably next to his workshops which you can tour.

If you're a history nerd like I am, this place is heaven! Holiday Nights is their wintertime celebration during which they offer live music in various settings around the village. You can snuggle next to a bonfire and listen to fife, crowd the foyer of a 19th century manor to hear hammered dulcimer and glockenspiel, follow the traveling carolers and more! There are "street vendors" selling roasted chestnuts, hot cocoa and warm cider, as well as lanterns and wreaths. It was so beautiful. Everywhere you looked were people carrying little lights and lanterns, and people were laughing and singing all around the village (except for one of the houses. One of the houses belonged to a very conservative family, whose religion I have forgotten, who did not observe Christmas...) and the end of the night was led by a parade of noise and lights to the town hall where all of the visitors caroled as fireworks were set off over the village lake. Holy cow. I haven't had good educational fun like that in a very long time.

SO.
I've had this idea for a vintage-inspired skirt tickling the back of my head ever since that night and over the past few days I've been able to really get some work done on it. I want desperately to make one of those warm woolen skirts that you see women wearing for figure skating both in the 1910's and again in the 40s.

Ideally I'd like it to be the kind of skirt that you can pair with a fancy muff or a muck fork, depending on where you are! The biggest challenge for me was definitely coming up with something that is practical as well as elegant.

I spent an entire day pouring over my vintage/antique patterns (and Pinterest, of course) in order to come up with just the right cut. Finally I settled on one of my favorite patterns from "Past Patterns" which is a 1915, six gored skirt with a sort of "yoke belt". I used this patter as my base and altered it slightly to give it a slightly more 40's silhouette and length, and unless I'm sorely mistaken the result is going to be spectacular!

This pattern is a perfect example of how to find yourself in over your head with antique sewing! The pattern has a scant 4 lines of directions and was originally unprinted, leaving a series of perforations to be carefully deciphered by the seamstress or tailor. The "yoke belt" is nearly impossible to figure out, and in the end I decided to wing it. It was only after I finished the top of the skirt that I figured out how I should've done it, as it ended up a bit bulky, but it still looks fantastic when it's on!

The fabric that I had the pleasure of using for this was a heavy Italian wool. Don't get me wrong, I'm really not the kind of gal to go and splurge on some over-the-top luxury fabric, but last year I visited the Fabric Warehouse over in Warren, Michigan and stumbled across this amazing fabric for $12.99 a yard, when it had originally sold for $50-60 a yard in New York City fashion houses. Holy Moly, right? It's the most luxurious fabric I've ever sewn with (though I have a couple of other gems in my collection waiting to be used) so there was a lot of pressure to make it into something special. This project has proved to be the perfect excuse.

I have yet to add the buttons, hook-and-eyes and hem (which I am just realizing I've never actually done an invisible hem – maybe I can get away with hiding a plain-stitched hem in an embellishment at the bottom as pictured on the drawing...) so there will be plenty of photos of this babe when I'm finished. I'll be finishing the hem at a shorter length than was typical of the Edwardian period from which this pattern comes simply because I want it to be a working skirt, or the kind of skirt that you'd wear when skating on the local pond. It needs to be short enough that my wellies don't get caught up in it as I'm trudging out to feed the livestock, but ideally it should be long enough to allude to the modesty of the era.

Stay tuned for more photos!

Vintage Style Showcase: 1930s Florsheim "Florette" Pumps

Sometimes when I see a piece of vintage clothing my heart begins to pitter-patter like a child with a schoolgirl crush. These shoes are just such an item! When I saw them, I knew I had to add them to my collection of wearable vintage shoes.

The most exciting thing about these shoes (apart from their wearability) is that their original stamp is still fully visible inside. They are a late 1930's "Florette" shoe by Florsheim, and thanks to Google I was able to find the text from an original ad for them from The Salt Lake Tribune, April 1936! They were sold at a store in Salt Lake City called Auerbach's, and cost $8.75-9.75, depending on whether you wanted them in solid or strapped pumps.  Here's the original ad text:

 Hosiery—Street Floor "FLORETTE" SHOES By Florsheim if you're young or have young ideas 8.75-9.75 an d up "Florette" shoes have that out-of-the-ordinary smartness every chic young woman craves. If you have a practical side, too, remember they're FLORSHEIM and that means they'll wear. Expertly fitted by X-Ray Shoe Dept

And, while it is obviously likely they were purchased someplace other than Auerbach's, here is a period photo of the building that the above ad references:

Can't you just imagine the roar of 30's traffic, and the click of wooden heels on the pavement as you walked up to Auerbach's Department Store in 1936 to pick out your new pumps from the latest spring line? How exciting! 

The (American) Florsheim company was started at the end of the 19th century in Chicago, Illinois. You can find some more information about the company HERE at the historical Encyclopedia of Chicago website.

The company survived both World Wars rather well, which is fairly impressive, and I guess there was a big "to do" about the company moving to St. Louis in 1953 since they'd been such a staple in the Chicago area. Since my pair of Florsheims are definitely pre-1950s, it's safe to say they were manufactured in the heart of the Chicago factory works. If you click the small thumbnail on the left, it links to the Encyclopedia of Chicago zoomable image of the Florsheim factory in 1949.

The shoes are a soft, supple leather in a neutral warm fawn color, and have so many design details that it's hard to highlight them all. The most obvious of the details is the enameled metal flowers on the "tongue" of the shoe, with beautiful red and yellow glass. They are also a reasonably vague antiquated silhouette, with their pointed toes and scooping heels, so they fit with pretty much any of the fashions from the turn of the 20th century through the 1940's!

While these shoes are a bit narrow for the modern foot, they are still in a wearable size and I can't wait to take them for a spin once the weather clears up a bit!

Have you ever had that tingly giddy feeling about a vintage item? What was it for you?

An Introduction: Emily Jenkins, Historic Homesteader

Well, we've got to start some place!

Hello there! I'm Emily, from Tanglewood Farm and I'm one of the authors here at Seven Magpies. I figured I'd pop in and give a little introduction to help break the ice a bit.

I've been obsessed with the past since I was a little girl. One of my most fond memories is of standing in the stiflingly hot attic of my grandparents' house, the air thick and smelling of molds and rat poison (don't EVER touch the green pellets - this was a lesson lodged very firmly in my mind from the time I could comprehend it), and ogling at my grandmother's old hats, cursing the fact that I was born with a big head. Her beautiful antique hats were so tiny, as she was a petite woman, and her tastes were impeccable. Among her hats was a gorgeous deep salmon colored number – something between a pillbox and a beret – that she later let me have, along with a wool tricorn hat that she'd purchased in historical Williamsburg when she was younger.

I feel like I've been brought up with a healthy respect for all things bygone. My parents weren't necessarily vintage-inspired or antique-crazed, but they taught me to love music from all eras, and to appreciate books old and new. They took me to museums of all sorts and they always expected a sort of quiet appreciation of antique objects. They really instilled in me a sort of awe and imagination that is fed by things with age.

Currently I am living in a 19th century stone cottage that we believe is the original servants' quarters to the large historical estate that lies next door. I live here with my husband and a plethora of farm animals including a small flock of Icelandic sheep, three horses, some heritage breed ducks and chickens, one very ugly turkey and our two dogs and cat. We live as much "off the land" as we can, here, and I hope to bring not only my love for vintage fashion/style to the blog but also my knowledge of and passion for old fashioned Craft and skills.

As a hobby, I take old neglected antique clothing and draft patterns, often remaking them in durable, wearable condition. I also have a habit of collecting (who doesn't?) and I have a beautiful collection of antique fabrics that I have been known to pull out simply to daydream of potential uses.

I am a seamstress, a shepherdess, a baker, a reader, a dreamer and a maker, and I am so, so happy to be here writing for you. I hope I can share my experiences with you to help kindle your imagination and passion for all things bygone-inspired!

-Emily

Wholesome Homesteading and Design Dallyings for the Everyday Vintage Enthusiast

Have you ever been so inspired by a bygone era that you couldn't wait to incorporate it in some way – any way – into your everyday life?

Do you find yourself wondering "Why don't we do it like that anymore?" on a regular basis?

Whether your passions lie in vintage fashion, baking, homesteading, crafting, skills or even in history itself, you've come to the right place!

We are a small collection of enthusiastic writers who can't wait to share with you our passions and projects.

Please check back soon!