Sometimes I buy things because I like just one part. This plastic-straw hat and the netting to tie it on? Hmm, not so much. Those flowers are another story.
They're a perfect little corsage just pinned to the brim.
The felt and rickrack door hanger? Definitely not a keeper.
The pixie is, though. (I had a three-pixie outing on Friday. That's pretty good, for me.)
Sometimes the parts add up to more than I expected. All of the following came from a simple paper envelope purchased for 10 cents at the same sale that yielded the corsage and the pixie. We begin with a clipping from a 1951 issue of The American Weekly. Why did Mrs. Barton (you'll know in a minute how I know her name) keep this particular page? Did she suffer from Smoker's Cough? Or did she, like Edna, suffer from Dismal Periodic Pain? No, she did not. Mrs. Barton was interested in Pattern 3805, a "three-piece ensemble to add to your spring wardrobe." But Mrs. Barton wasn't sure if she was really the bolero-wearing type. You see, the clipping is dated January 28, 1951...
and more than three months would elapse before Mrs. Barton finally rolled a piece of paper into her manual typewriter and wrote to The American Weekly Pattern Department. By this time, she had to be concerned about a shortage of size 14 bolero patterns, and the horror of some file clerk in New York thinking she might wear a size 16. From all of this, we can take a lesson: When it comes to boleros, it does not pay to procrastinate.
The pattern arrived, and one can see why Mrs. Barton was intrigued. Just look at the slimming lines of that skirt and shirt. And the bolero! With a faux cuff and collar to match the shirt! And an option for short sleeves!
And, oh happy day, still available in a size 14!
But that is where our tale is about to end. Because in the same envelope with the clipping and the letter were all of the pattern pieces, still as neatly folded as when they left The American Weekly Pattern Department. Mrs. Barton never used the pattern. We'll never know why. Perhaps after months of flirting with the idea, she realized that she really was not the type to wear a bolero. Or maybe her next-door neighbor came over for coffee, saw the pattern and said, "Oh! A bolero! Are people still wearing those?"
The most likely explanation, though, is that in the time between ordering the pattern and the time it arrived, Mr. Barton surprised Mrs. Barton with the news that they would be spending the summer abroad: Spain, then Italy, then Switzerland. But first they would be going to Paris so that Mrs. Barton could be fitted for a new wardrobe. And that's why she didn't use the pattern. You may have a different idea, but I know that when I don't get around to finishing a project, there's usually a fabulous surprise and international travel involved.
Cute post! Love how you wrote a story from the 'facts'....enjoyed it!
Posted by: Linda @ A La Carte | April 25, 2010 at 11:24 PM
LOVE IT!! I had to pause our movie to read most of this post to my husband. You are a really great writer!
Posted by: Carmen | April 25, 2010 at 11:33 PM
Can you thank Mrs. Barton for this evening's entertainment?
Posted by: Tina | April 26, 2010 at 01:31 AM
OR, maybe by the time the pattern arrived, she realized that she was in fact a size 16! Which could be attributed to all of the good food she ate while abroad!
Posted by: Carol @ Old Glory Cottage | April 26, 2010 at 08:15 AM
I just loved reading the post...and your entire blog. It is my favorite!
C :)
Posted by: Christie Wilhite | April 26, 2010 at 09:12 AM
Well lucky Mrs. Barton and in her defense, we all know that a size 14 in those days is like a size 8 today!
♥, Susan
Posted by: Black Eyed Susans Kitchen | April 26, 2010 at 10:21 AM
Thank you for making my morning. I'm still smiling
Karen
Posted by: Karen Young | April 26, 2010 at 10:58 AM
You and Mrs Barton made my morning. Such details you uncovered. I'm with you on the international travel. That's much more exciting than eating too many cake doughnuts. How embarassing it would be to have to type another letter and confess she indeed does "go to 16 size".
Au revoir bon ami...
Posted by: Freckled Hen | April 26, 2010 at 11:30 AM
Thanks so much for the morning giggle. I will think about Mrs. Barton from time to time throughout the week - just to smile.
Posted by: Cindy | April 26, 2010 at 11:37 AM
Please tell me you will write a book. Between your talent for taking vintage treasures to a new level, your gift for writing and your fabulous sense of humor, it would be a bestseller for sure.
Posted by: Kim | April 26, 2010 at 01:04 PM
I always LOVE when you make up tales about the people you buy things from! I do the same thing in my mind! I always love to day dream about the adventures other may have!
Posted by: Gail | April 26, 2010 at 01:46 PM
Wow, you sure know how to tell a good story! I was spellbound!
Brenda
Posted by: Brenda Kula | April 26, 2010 at 02:38 PM
Totally great read Barbara! I love it when you find something tucked away like that and it leaves you wondering what the whole story was....if only Mrs. Barton read your blog and could tell us what really happened! Altho the Paris/Spain angle is very clever....
glad you had a three pixie day!
Posted by: laurie magpie ethel | April 26, 2010 at 06:39 PM
You always have the best stuff!!
Hugs, Lisa
Posted by: Lisa | April 26, 2010 at 10:29 PM
She probably bought the fabric and both sat unsewn, unmade and were forgotten. oh do I do the same thing or what! This is a cute piece of personal history. Love this post.
Posted by: Nanette | April 27, 2010 at 01:34 PM
I really enjoyed your post ! I think that Mrs. Barton dropped her bolero pattern and ran off with the milk man !
Posted by: Lisa W. | April 27, 2010 at 02:56 PM