As per usual, Mena and I had a grand old time at the most recent Alameda Antiques Faire. We hit the grounds early, and split up to follow our own strategies for seeing as many booths as possible at the enormous event: Mena skims the booths quickly, making note of the ones she wants to return to, while I start on row A, booth 1, and methodically look at everything everyone has to offer. While I am goal-oriented when I'm antiquing, I also love just looking at the endless variety of stuff from the past. For me it's equal parts shopping excursion and museum tour.
As I was perusing the aisles, I started to get texts from Mena alerting me to good booths:
"Buttons and fabric by first booth on E"
"I12"
"Tons of scarves by K"
I read and responded to her texts, but I was reluctant to give up my plodding method of looking at all the booths in order. (No, I'm not ready to analyze what this says about my personality.) I visited one of her suggested booths, then went back to where I'd left off.
"You've got to go to K"
Where the scarves are?, I thought. No thanks. I kept on my alphabetical way.
"The scarf place!!"
Finally I called her and asked what all the fuss was about. She was raving about two giant "scarf tables" where everything was $1. Still not moved by the prospect of $1 scarves, I finally capitulated and met her there just to be a good friend, because it seemed like it'd make her happy.
I found her at the scarf table, elbow deep in a giant pile of scarves, her face beaming. "Look what I got!" she exclaimed, and showed me an impressive pile of treasures she'd found for $1 each. I half-heartedly stuck one arm in the pile and started looking for a nice scarf or two. "Dig deeper!" she said encouragingly. That's when I finally found some treasures. Among my finds were three vintage slips, several yards of red gingham fabric, an unfinished vintage apron, a little girl's apron to fit Mena's daughter Penelope, a great necktie -- all for $1 each. "You were right about the scarf table!" I confessed.
At the scarf table I also found several vintage handkerchiefs which usually are sold for $3-6 each.
I was shopping with Valentine's Day in mind and I found several great gifts. But as it always happens with antiquing, I found several things I didn't know I was in the market for. At one table, I picked up a pretty yellow clutch. When I looked inside to check out the condition of the interior, I found that it had matching yellow gloves.
Those vintage sunglasses were just $2, and I was thrilled to replace the junky sunglasses from H&M that I've been wearing. When I showed my new old sunglasses to my guy, he said, "Wow, I never realized how much I hated your old sunglasses," and then made up for it by saying I looked like a sophisticated Italian woman. (In his defense, he was just speaking the truth; my old H&M glasses were hideous.)
Usually when I buy vintage shoes, they're cowboy boots. But I found two pairs of pumps that fit well and were so affordable - $15 and $20, respectively - that I ended up taking them home. The black pumps are super comfortable, and the navy pumps, well, they're going to go perfectly with my vintage blue velvet dress.
Mena found these sandals for me, which I would have never tried on. I wore them in Palm Springs last week and loved them.
One thing I love about all three of these pairs of shoes is that they've stood the test of time. They're not going to fall apart after a few wears. And I feel confident they were made by craftsmen, not by underpaid and/or underage workers in a cramped factory in China. The "Go There" sandals were made by Joe Famolare, seen here looking handsome in an ad shot by Richard Avedon. Joe Famolare is a third-generation shoe designer and manufacturer who has been making shoes since 1970. According to retrodress.com:
"In the early 1970s, shoe designer
Joe Famolare created a line of rubber platform shoes, the first of
which was named Get There, followed by the high heeled version, Hi
There. Shortly thereafter, the Go There, Hi Up, and Very High versions
made their debut. With
their wavy rubber sole, ergonomically designed Famolares had a very
unique and distinctive look and were totally comfortable to wear
all day long."
Famolare.com tells me the specially-designed four wave sole is also going to save me energy.
All this history, science and fashion for only $20. That's a bargain.