Pretty Pockets.

I am a slob. Sadly and truly. Not only do I not put things away, I don't even close the cupboard door when I take them out. Nowhere in my home was this more evident than in my pantry: dark wood paneled open shelves with piles of things scattered and piled all over, scary smells emanating from some long forgotten potato (shudder). After painting the kitchen all cheery and bright, the pantry became an even sadder and gloomier place to banish all of our lovely and nourishing canned and dry goods, and so I managed to scrape up enough left over paint (mind you I had to get more before I finished it) to invigorate both the space and my housekeeping efforts.

Here's a peek at the pantry from the kitchen. Those dark paneled walls have been covered with creamy semi-gloss paint. Vintage metal serving trays serve as magnetic message boards.

On the opposite wall is where the real pantry action begins. Buying in bulk saves both money and packaging and requires lots of decorative storage (glass jars, tins, baskets), all of which can be picked up for a handful of change at your local thrift shop. I save the top shelf for display of my prettiest useful things. Then when the shelves below start to get trashed, I can just look up at the "pretty shelf" and avoid reality. I have many "pretty pockets" like this in my home; it enables my slobbiness quite nicely.

My aqua and cream addiction applied to some fun vintage carafes.

One of my first forays into acquiring old junk was assembling a collection of cheery vintage tablecloths to use at our picnic-table wedding. They have been re-employed as curtains, slipcovers, togas, picnic blankets, fort-roofs, and to cover tables, of course. Good memories put to good use.

Aforementioned tablecloth used here to hide a very vintage vacuum cleaner ($2 at an estate sale). This champ doesn't get out nearly as much as she should.

Does is seem a little shallow to be gushing over a pantry? To be posting pictures of it on the internet? Undoubtedly, yes. But I do think it's important to make your "pretty pockets" - something your eyes can rest on when they tire of taking in the mess. And to do it by giving new life to old things, without emptying your real pockets, well, that makes it all the prettier.

Cheap Tidings.

I love my friends and family, but I'm not about to go spend a bunch of money on them. What they really need is cheap handmade junk, slapped together with love, hot glue and a few drops of spilled wine. All at the twelfth hour, of course. So now that it's what, December 16th? I've decided to get started on this whole Christmas thing. Oh, and take the time to blog about it, because it's more fun to blather on about what I'm doing than to actually do it.

A very handmade and economical holiday greeting to you.


My husband fashioned a wreath from this year's tree trimmings. I added some thrift store metal mistletoe ornaments and an antique postcard and called it good. (Being a graphic designer, I find myself drawn to lots of old printed ephemera - postcards, coasters, sheet music - to deck my halls.)

I think I first realized my chemical addiction to thrift stores when shopping for Christmas decorations at the Salvation Army. They have piles upon piles of them; turn-your-stomach-at-the-disgusting-over-consumption-and-waste amounts. But if you're willing to sift through it all, you can find a little vintage holiday sparkle for just a few bucks. I am always finding lovely old ornaments that my children would break within a few moments (why is it that objects that have been around for generations are immediately destroyed when introduced to my home?) so I have to be creative about how I display them. So far I've come up with hang 'em high, or hermetically seal them behind glass.

These super-fancy handmade thrifties are hanging from my chandelier, far from the reach of precious dimpled hands. The checkout lady told me making these bejewled beauties was all the rage in the early seventies.


Folksy red vintage Shiny-Brites are safe but showy in my glass front cabinet. Fifty cents for the lot. Someday, in a post-toddler era, these will hang on my tree.


This year my vintage ballot box is holding an old chipped carnival glass bowl (still delightfully iridescent and dreamy) filled with some pretty pastelly vintage Shiny-Brites. And a teeny tiny jadeite mixing bowl filled with matching vintage beads. A bit Barbie-ish, but my three year old daughter totally digs it. Horrid picture, sorry.


A legion of tins standing by waiting (and waiting and waiting) to be filled with Christmas goodies. These are always easy to find and make a very wallet and eco-friendly replacement to gift bags or gift wrap.


The hot gift item this year is "bauble magnets" - fashioned from old buttons and clip on earrings. Packaging them up in and old pencil tin works quite nicely. I've wrapped this set in a vintage napkin, topped with a vintage coaster and tied up with (yes, vintage) rickrack. Here's hoping everyone I know has some sort of magnetic surface in their life.

Despite the glizty cheapness with which I have surrounded myself, I find my Christmas spirit a little wanting this season. Though I don't feel the pressure to spend scores of non-existent money and laden my children with piles of gifts (sorry, babes), we are feeling the weight of an "uncertain" (euphemism) economy bearing down upon us and have many questions as to what new "adventures" (possible euphemism) the new year may bring. But whatever happens, and wherever we end up, I assure you that my slightly unhealthy obsession with thrifting will carry on! I have tons of new stock coming to my vintage shop, and many projects to detail here.

Here's to the warmest of holidays and a new year filled with peace and hope!