thrift

gypsy queens

By | thrift, vancouver, vintage | No Comments

Practicing self restraint is always a bummer. Practising self restraint at a vintage fair is borderline masochistic. I found myself relatively penniless and in attendance at the Gypsy Market “Vintage Sale” with Sarah, my partner in crime. Oh boy, it was hard work, walking around clutching various items to my bosom, knowing I would have to sacrifice most of them.

As you can see, it was also very, very dark. I didn’t really know what I was buying, or what colour it would be when I got into daylight, but I guess that was part of the fun? To be frank, my adrenaline was too high in the middle of such vintage loveliness to care.

It was a pretty huge sale, featuring vintage pickers and collectors from all over Vancouver.

I was ready to wrench that hat-toting deer bust off the wall. I really was. I was appeased by the ceramic wall hanging in the nick of time.  A mother deer and her baby fawn! Far too delightful. Needless to say, mother and child are now in my possession and proudly hanging on my wall.  

I gave myself a budget of $30. For this, I got a beautiful vintage dress, a brown blouse and a red vintage blouse.  Not too shabby! I would say they will make an appearance here very soon, as I have all three on heavy rotation. This sale is only on four times a year. I’m already itching for the next instalment!

 

chartreuse muse

By | DIY, furniture, revamp, thrift, Uncategorized, vintage | No Comments

We bought some pretty beat up old furniture from yard sales when we moved into our flat in Vancouver.  It was kind to our empty immigrant pockets, and I like owning things that have a bit of history.  A naff glass top table with wooden chairs, and a credenza from the late ’70s were prime candidates for some rainy Sunday DIY.

I’m very partial to vile colours.  I immediately pictured the boring wooden chairs in the ultimate ‘so wrong, it’s right’ colour — chartreuse. We sanded ’til we could sand no more, then set to work slapping on that delightfully offensive paint colour.

A few layers of paint later and voila! Chairs with (nauseating) impact. I got lazy with the table, and threw a thrifted vintage table cloth over it. I found the material for 3 bucks, and it miraculously fits the weirdly shaped table perfectly.

The credenza was found in a CRAZY junk store.  I’ve visited some chaotic shops, but this took the biscuit.  Picture an episode of Hoarders. Then, picture said hoarder with a penchant for rancid old running shoes, tied together with laces and shoved inside EVERY piece of furniture, nook and cranny. Then, imagine they love balancing pieces of furniture arbitrarily on top of each other, like some crazed life-size Jenga experiment. Then…only kidding, I’ll stop there. But you get the idea.

Our credenza was under a pile of other furniture at the end of a tunnel of wood and shoes. We rescued it! Peter sanded it down and we re-varnished it. The colour is richer and it evened out a lot of bruises and imperfections.

Please, please forgive Peter’s monolithic television. I lost that fight. Someday I will “Ooops, I can’t believe that fell and smashed into smithereens!” WIN.