More charming finds to share

I know I could have posted all this great fun stuff at once last night, but I was tired and my long weekend had finally run its course, which means now I have tons more great stuff to show off!  First, some phones of the non-mobile variety:

Ugh, in the crummy dim light of my house I didn't notice how much more of a scrub this needed!

This is two of three that picked up at the Goodwill pound store on the same day, from the same bin.  It took me awhile to untangle all the cords.  I almost threw the beigy one back before I turned over the hand set and noticed the rotary dial.  Isn't nostalgia funny?  I actually have a rotary phone, albiet disconnected, hanging on my kitchen wall from the old folks who lived here before me.  I haven't yet been able to bring myself to take it down!  If I still had to use it, I would find it wildly annoying to wait for the dial to spin back around every time before dialing the next number, but since I don't have to, it's oddly satisfying.  The resistance as you dial it, and the otherwise unmatched sound it makes as it slides back around feel so purposeful.  Sometimes when I'm in the kitchen on my handy little Virgin Mobile phone (not product placement, but I do love Virgin - such a good deal, and I have the biggest, weirdest crush on Richard Branson!), I'll be idly dialing away on the big old thing.  If it were an awesome color I'd definitely want to keep it forever, but I've started toying with the idea of taking it down, possibly to paint it red, or blue.  Or yellow!  I need to figure out how to take it apart and paint it, but keep the numbers and whatnot... project.

Next up, a couple more small appliances to go with the awesome green iron I posted yesterday:

Crusha!

This thing is seriously sexy.  And yes, that's the original box next to it.  It's practically brand new!  It's the wall-mount kind, far more rocket-shippy than the counter top varieties, and this one's extra special - black and gold instead of the usual chrome finish.  I found it at a little resale shop that I've found by accident twice, and can never find on purpose.  I don't even know what it's called, but I know it's in South County, and this is not the only really nifty bit of vintage I've found there.

Oh yeah, mirror finish, baby!

Speaking of practically new condition - can you believe the finish on this awesome vintage Sunbeam toaster?  I couldn't, when I spotted it at the Salvation Army on Cherokee Street.  It's a later model - probably from the 70s, which I know from perusing this site dedicated solely to vintage Sunbeam automatic toasters.  These things are amazing - there's nothing to push down.  You just put your bread in the slot, and the weight of it lowers the mechanism and turns on the coils.  When the toast reaches it's optimum toastiness based on the setting you choose, the heat turns off and the toast slowly and calmly raises back up.  It's that mid-century futuristic awesomeness we all love!  This one still works like a charm, although it needs an adjustment.  It's idea of optimum toastiness was a little blacker than mine.  There's a "fixing your toaster" section on the website I linked to above that I'm guessing might help out with that, but I haven't perused that far yet.


While we're being retro-futuristic, how about these awesome silver shoes?:

There's barely even a scuff on the soles of these things.  They clearly never made it out of the house.

Not for you?  how about a groovy full-length oxblood leather coat, or the cool mid-century rope-seated valet chair on which it is displayed?:

The chair is in really nice shape, and the coat as well!

Did you see the fun penguin picture?  I'm not knowledgeable enough to say if it's a print or a watercolor - it's signed and either dated or numbered 11/76, and was accompanied, on Saturday, by a very cute little girl:

Isn't she precious?

And if one pairing of little girl and bird pictures isn't enough, I had another one!:

Isn't she a cute little hippie-chick?  She's leaning on an ancient-looking trunk lid (sans trunk) that I picked up in an alley near my house a few weeks ago.  The pretty little blue floral apron came from the same estate sale as the green iron from yesterday.

There was a ton more, but once again its getting late, and Mary Poppins the kitty found her fuzzy-thing-on-a-stick toy, so I'm gonna go play a bit before bed.  Good for the soul!

Strangely, ANOTHER mid-century(ish?) painting!

I've had a long few weeks and I haven't been posting as much as usual, but I'm excited to show you what I found tonight!
I've been cutting back on thrifting due to drowning in inventory and a bit of a thaw in sales while everybody's busy enjoying Spring weather (I hope that's what it is!), but today was the Last Wednesday of the Month, and if you're a regular, you may know this is something of a thrifting feast day here at 2ndhand Moon.  A day when I simply have no choice but to stop by Value Village, and today it's like my Fairy Godthrifter saved all the best stuff for me!  Probably most impressive is this quite impressive addition to the "art collection" (which I showed you last week):

Huge (as wide as my car's interior - I almost didn't get it home!) oil painting - an oddly people-free Venetian scene.
With the orangey-yellowy-brown sky, I kind of have to assume a post-apocalyptic intent here, don't you think?

Signed Van Gaard

A little close-up detail.

So of course I had to find out a little about my new post-apocalyptic Venetian sofa painting!  A little chat with good ol' Google taught me this:

Van Gaard is not a real person, but a name used by Vanguard Studios.  From Artillery Magazine:

"In the late 1960s, Andy Warhol had glamorous lackeys silkscreen his canvases for him and called his studio The Factory. In the art-boom '80s, Mark Kostabi set up an art sweatshop where struggling East Village painters made Kostabi-esque works under his not-so-watchful eye. But in 1965, Lee Reynolds Burr and his Vanguard Studios were there first. His original "art factory" in Beverly Hills produced more painted canvases bearing one signature than any artist in history, but none of the artworks for sale were actually painted by him."

The way Lee Burr describes it himself in a statement posted on his website (Burr is apparently still alive and painting in his mid-70s), he had about 10 "staff artists" that painted these pictures over silkscreened guides printed on the canvas, or in my case board.

Apparently there were a handful of signatures used for this artwork, including Lee Reynolds, Lee Burr, Van Gaard and Stuart, which is the first name of Burr's brother and business partner.  Further googling for images turned up lots and lots and lots of paintings with these various signatures, but (until I publish this post, anyway), none that look like this one, which makes me happy.  I have no problem with the idea that they produced these in quantity for the regular consumer (you'll know that from the rest of my collection!), but it's nice that this is not the most common one around.  I imagine the size of it would have kept it from being too mass-produced.  Not every room can handle a monstrosity of these proportions, and not every psyche could bear up under the sight of Venice glowing with green/orange radiation, but I bed those who could were some hardcore individuals, no?  Anyway, I love it, and I love how insane the (I'm guessing here) late 60s/early 70s must have been to produce such a thing.  If you feel the same way, and have a room that can handle it, let me know if you're interested!  If not, it will no doubt eventually find it's way to Kenrick Antique Mall, booth 78 (once I'm done admiring it myself).

More of the Last Wednesday treasures, coming soon!