Recently in Ephemera Category

As we celebrated the almost inauguration of our super cool president, I remembered to light a little candle to Edgar. When I suddenly realized it was his 200th birthday. Looks like someone else noticed too.

Edgar Allen Poe
January 19, 1809 - October 7, 1849

Hugs and Dark and Sparkly kisses to my Sepulchritudinous co-horts, who have been stabbing birthday cakes in Edgar's name for many these long gloomy years. Especially Bat, who started when she was like, eight.

My grandmother! Kate Overstreet (Prince O'Brien) circa... erm, mid 1920's.

Ran across cousin Andy's repository of family pictures, and there are a bunch I'd never seen. My grandmother's family hails from just south of San Jose, in Hollister. They were fruit farmers... all those vintage california fruit crate labels? Casa de Fruta? Neighbors anyway. Yeah, that was us ^_^

I found these after the photoshoot I did the other day, honest! I was tickled to see this one of my uncle in a sailor suit and my great aunt Edith sporting it up in what even then was an old-fashioned bathing costume.

You can see a gallery of the Prince/Overstreet family on flickr!

I like to share.

Faces peering out of the past entrance me. Whether or not this portrait is of Jane Austen interests me less than the delightful chapeau on this other young girl.

Johann Zoffany
Title: Portrait of Sophia Dumergue
Oil Painting
Production Date: c. 1780
Material(s): Oil paint

Some things just make me incredibly happy. Like stumbling upong this page this morning. Exquisite.

Buy a sailor girl t-shirt! From Torrid.com...

I was in Lane Bryant yesterday looking at their stripey-tees. The overly enthusiastic sales girl pontificates that she doesn't know why they sell them, one simply musn't wear horizontal stripes evar. "But they're piratey," says I, grabbed one and checked out.

Judy Blume wrote that fat girls should never wear frillies or pink or lace. I've had a complex since I was eleven that at thirty-eight I'm just now getting over and I don't care if I look like a 200 pound milk-maid. rawr! Milk this!

On another note, my blog is swamped with half-written unpublished posts. I've been too busy to finish anything of note, and haven't been online from home much for aaaaages. Which is good for me! I'm working diligently on health isssssues. The dollies look pretty, but secretly blame me for neglect. Things should be back to normal after Dollectable and the Europe trip. My parents are all moved to their new digs, and one final, GLORIOUS, piece of family furniture is coming to live with us. Life has been moving and hectic. Dear dorries, I'm sorry!

Fruit and nuts in my salad and on my pizza still make me red with rage. I guess I'm in the minority. I'm a milk maid and the only real condiment is cheese.

And I leave you with one final image: Fleurs et Poissons... what's that all about!?!?!

Who knew?

Take the Blastmilk Tour! Kinda fun, I could get lost in there.

I found DeeDee Ramone's guitar pick in my jewelry box the other day. It has made me... melancholic. I picked it up off the stage at Berkeley Square in '83 or '84. Perhaps the same concert as the ticket in my scrapbook.

Syd Barrett died.

And to make matters even more poignant, R.I.P. Cody's Books. Oh, how my formative years have slipped away...

I looked up a past acquaintance. He was the suave King of New Wave in Berkeley circa 1984, after being the Prince of Punk Rock a few years previous. Once I shocked him by appearing in public without make-up (at 16 I wore a lot, a la crazy new wave influences). Startled, he suavely blurted "Oh my god. You're ugly!" I wasn't and I'm not, but it is amazing how these things STICK in your head. I saw him again ten years later, it was laundry day and I was in these huge awful pants and my hair was unkempt (so what else is new?). He was in fucking birkenstocks and I still wanted to crawl in a pit of shame and die. In any case, it looks like he's written a book about his young Berkeley Punk Rock exploits, pdf on Lulu.com. Mr. Sunshine is all hearts and flowers now. Irony! Sigh. Oh, the assholery of youth. How thou doth scar.

I'm 37. Imagine the meandering mind at 86! Guh!

Thanks be to the El Cerrito Free Book Exchange!

We had some of these as children. Probably from our Grandmother??? They're 1950's I believe but I remember the 3-D quality of the pictures as well as the "lace" edging ^_^ They're mini placemats, about 5x8", of pressed and coated cardboard. This is the kind of crap I'm bringing home all the time. They're magical. And completely sentimental.

The rest of them below...

The bookstores!

I don't loathe Berkeley... but one always has a love/hate relationship with one's hometown.

We went bookstore trawling last Saturday. Not only did I pick up an ARMLOAD of cool dolly clothing/pattern/costume books (mostly on antique dolls) at Half Price Books, but found these two gems at Black Oak.

Lewd & Notorious: Female Transgression in the 18th Century Edited by Katherine Kittredge

and...

Breaking The Codes: Female Criminality in Fin-de-Siècle Paris by Ann-Louise Shapiro (with some amazing prints)

So yeah, I spent my haircut money on books. YAY!