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Chinoiserie Chic • Mid Century Modern • Palm Beach Regency Vintage Sales & Rentals

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Filtering by Tag: "interior design"

Madam Secretary

LeAnn Stephenson



At The Vintage Laundry we believe in being aggressively pink and this marvelous Louis XV Style Secretary/Roll Top Desk meets our manifesto.

It would be just the thing for "A Room of One's Own." I'm thinking Virginia Woolf herself would have put this secretary on her wish list! It has 3 small drawers above the interior cubbies and one large drawer below the writing surface. Patina-d brass drawer pulls and a retractable roll top all perched on 4 elegant cabriole legs. Painted a glossy black with The Vintage Laundry signature pink covering the interiors of all of the drawers and the cubbies.

Check it out in our new bricks and mortar store, on our site or our Etsy.  And don't forget our 20% Off promotion we have on our entire inventory.  Offer valid through August 10, 2011.



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You Can Do It!

LeAnn Stephenson



Are you familiar with that saying, "Taking the world by storm?" Well, that's what I had imagined would happen when I officially opened the doors of The Vintage Laundry shop last week. Well . . . it seems that storm I was anticipating has been downgraded by weather experts to the equivalent of having someone spit out of their car window as they drive past my shop.

We opened our doors on Tuesday, July 19, 2011, at 11:00 A.M. and were an instant hit - like meatloaf at a vegan potluck or the Santa Dreidel. We brought a spoon to a knife fight, basically.

We were not a hit.

But yesterday was a different day because we had customers who must have seen something of value in my quirky little shop (20% off coupon) because they decided for some reason (20% off coupon) to come in and shop and make actual purchases. "This is it," I thought. "Here comes my storm!" I don't know why I'm so confident (20% off coupon,) I just am. So, I'll just keep on keepin' on in my usual overwhelmed state, reacting to these little traffic hiccups with grace (20% off coupon) and optimism (larger discounts coming soon.)

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First Liar Doesn't Have a Chance

LeAnn Stephenson



 "You name it."

These are the three words that leave my mouth when the subject of what I carry in the shop arises.  Which it does, and quite often, and not without a twinge of self-promotion and most often with a little competitiveness thrown in for good measure.  I find myself thinking, when listening to what a customer collects, "I'll see your salt and pepper collection and raise you a mess of printed tablecloths from the 1950s.  I'll see your Eames lounge and ottoman and raise you a Louis XV armchair.  And I'll see your Vera Neumann scarves and buy 'em."  These conversations have no end and no goal, and frankly I have no idea why I carry on so, except maybe I'm just one more vintage find away from starring in the next episode of A&E's Hoarders . . . . check your TV listings, I may already be there.

From the moment that I caught the vintage bug until today, I have lived by the philosophy that it is better to have dumpstered and dived than never to have dumpstered at all.  I have acted as host and restorer to just about every vintage item I could squeeze through the front door.


The other day my son began to question a new friends long term viability, noting that he lived in a house with his mom and dad and no old stuff.

"Not even any vintage knickknacks!"

"Not even," he says like his parents were unfit and smoking crack for lunch.

"But how does that work, exactly?" he asked.

"I don't know, I guess their family just likes a minimal look to their home."  I try to explain.

"Sounds awful."  he says.

So, apparently it's genetic.

I can't think of a smooth segue from there to photos of the shop.  So, here they are,  the "can't-get-no-minimal" shop photos.  Oh! . . . . and don't forget to join The Vintage Laundry on Yelp, Foursquare and check in when you visit and receive a discount on any purchase or you can join us on our Facebook fan page or follow my Tweets to get updates on new merchandise, deals, invitations to exclusive events, workshops and lots more.  Special grand opening specials begin next week and you don't want to miss out!!


Comes see our collection of vintage china, crystal and silver . . .


. . .  or peruse our vintage chandeliers . . .



. . . or linger in our vintage clothing room . . .



. . . . and don't forget about our Grey Gardens Collection, where you can customize and furniture purchase with paint and upholstery of your choosing . . .




. . . or maybe you have a wedding, dinner party or event that you're planning . . . . check out our vintage rental inventory . . . .



 . . . and of course there is always our vintage textiles and linens to Ooooh and Aaah over!




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Epic Facepalm: A Celebration of Fogetting and Frustration

LeAnn Stephenson



If you are unfamiliar with the word facepalm let me explain . . . . According to the Urban Dictionary, a facepalm is the act of dropping one's face or forehead into one's hand. Usually accompanied by a 
"thunk" or a cry of "Doh!"  As in:  Today I locked my keys in my car.  Again. *facepalm*

Well, unfortunately, I'm all too familiar with this experience as you will gather from the following story:

Things have been slipping my mind for years - at least since I was twenty-eight.  I know this because the year I celebrated my twentieth-eighth birthday was the year I was pregnant with my daughter, Olivia.  I can even prove it, because after her birth was when I started forgetting the names of people and words - they would just slip away without warning.  This marked the time when I had to begin scrolling through my mental dictionary, trying to guesstimate what letter the word or name I was frantically searching for began with.  Sometimes I even tried to figure out how many syllables were involved to speed the process.  When this first began, the lost name, word, or thought would drift back into my head, recovered, kind of quickly.

But here's the thing:  it's gotten worse in the past few years.  And now if my daughter, with her talent for remembering everyone's name or my son and husband with their ability to play charades with me aren't close by, I have to fake it.  Olivia can actually gather that I'm trying to remember Tina Fey's name when I gesture with my hand in a certain way and Noah and the Hubbs can tell me the name I'm looking for is Julie Andrews when I say, "You know . . .  she's  that chick that sings on 
the mountain in that movie and makes matching clothes for that guy's kids out of the family curtains . . . . and there's nuns . . .?"

I try to comfort myself by insisting I'm too young for dementia to be setting in and that it's not so much a "Senior moment" as it's a Freshman or Sophomore moment, instead.

But here's my point:  My forgetting has taken on a new slant.  Now I can't remember if I've shared important information or not.

So, just in case I forgot to mention it . . . . . .

THE SHOP IS OPEN!

We will be closed Sundays and Mondays and open from 11PM - 7 PM Tuesday through Saturday.  The address is 3406 Glenview, Austin Tx, 78703.  You can join The Vintage Laundry on Yelp, Foursquare and check in when you visit and receive a discount on any purchase or you can join us on our Facebook fan page or follow my tweets to get updates on new merchandise, deals, invitations to exclusive events, workshops and lots more.  Also in the works is The Vintage Laundry TV on our YouTube channel that I'm really excited about!!!  More on that later.  I can't wait to share more info and photos!  So, check the blog in the next couple of days to take advantage of all of the goodies that we have planned to celebrate our new store opening!

See you soon,
LeAnn

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So's Your Mom

LeAnn Stephenson



Something funky is going on in the world of women's underwear . . . .  Well, at least in THIS woman's world.  Don't freak out, I'm not about to over-share or anything, it's just you know how they say that you should always be sure to wear clean underwear just in case you're in a car accident and have to be taken to the hospital?  Well, I have a story to tell you and it's kinda like that . . . kinda.

Until Monday night, last week was shaping up to be marvelously productive.  All day long the kids and I had been zooming around from one task to another, like protons spinning out of control (I may have the science wrong there) when all of a sudden, I had a complete and total nuclear melt down.

For the past month the whole family has been working in the shop trying to prepare for its opening by painting walls, chairs, etc., hanging chandeliers and mirrors, polishing silver, and pricing merchandise.  Monday had been particularly great because it seemed that we were at "full steam" and getting all matter of things accomplished.

And if that wasn't magnificent enough, many, many Diet Dr. Peppers were involved.

So I was working on putting a couple of metal contraptions on the back of a rather large mirror that needed hanging, when it happened.  I was sitting on the floor power-drill in hand just about to make my first pilot hole in the template that came with it when my hand slipped, making a lovely pilot hole in my left thumb, instead.  I quickly reversed the drill and removed the bit from my thumb and then debated upon which to do first . . . vomit or spout a creative stream of obscenities.  Turns out there was a third option which was to burst into inconsolable sobbing - complete with lakes of tears and snot and lots of snubbing just for effect.  To be perfectly honest, I wasn't being a complete wussy for nothing, this puncture ranks as one of my more severe injuries. I mean, when I held it up to the light I could actually see all the way through to the other side.  And there was blood - lots of blood - like in that episode of SNL where Dan Akroyd, dressed as Julia Childs, has just cut his finger and is spurting blood everywhere.  My children quickly grabbed the roll of paper towels and crafted a mighty fine bandage consisting of about twenty-seven sheets of Brawny held together by 2-inch blue painter's tape while the Hubbs located his keys so that we could dash off to the emergency room.

As we ran into the emergency room I became immediately aware that something was wrong, I mean other than my perforated thumb.  I was getting some interesting looks from everyone in the waiting room, which prompted me to turn to the Hubbs and ask, while I tilted my head back and pulled my upper lip over my front teeth, "Do I have a bugger?" or, as I looked down at my pants, "Is my fly open?"  Turns out neither was the case so, I just smiled and stared back at my audience.  The second time I was aware that something was amiss was when the handsome young male nurse led me back to the examination room.

I need to interrupt the story here to share a couple of things about my appearance.  When I dress to go to the shop and paint and sweat and move furniture and sweat and sweat some more, I don't take a lot of care in my appearance - I typically choose a pair of Nike running shorts with one of my husband's "seen-better-days" t-shirts and a tragic looking pair of pink flip  flops.  My attire says, "When I'm not in prison, I enjoy a day of looking homeless."  So, just in case I have to go out in public, each morning I grab a change of clothes from the fresh from the dryer pile that is currently residing on my sofa, clothes that I quickly changed into before heading off to the emergency room.

Okay, so I'm there with the handsome nurse asking me all the usual questions, "How current is your tetanus? . . . . yadda, yadda, yadda.  when I notice that he keeps looking at my chest or rather right below and to the side of my chest.  So, the next time he turns to write on his clipboard I take a quick look at my shirt . . . . . and there "it" is  . . . . containing enough static cling to start a small electrical fire . . . . a pair of my underwear stuck to the side of my T-shirt.

As he turns from his clipboard I ask, "Why didn't you tell me I had underwear stuck to my shirt?"

"That's just how I roll.  It's nice underwear though - my mom has the same kind." he says. 

"Oh, your mom?" is what I said, but this is what I thought:

YOUR MOM!

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Girl Friday: Hammer Time

LeAnn Stephenson


Right after my fifteenth birthday, my dad strongly suggested I get a summer job.  And by "strongly suggested" I mean every morning, while we were at the kitchen table, he'd stare at me for several moments - kinda blankly, but in a "summing-me-up" kinda way, and then shout over his right shoulder, "This kid needs a job!"  I'm not completely sure who he was talking to because it was just the two of us in the kitchen, but he had a point.  I mean I hadn't taken any steps toward my dream of becoming a millionaire or a rock star, so it was obvious that I needed a little nudge in the career department.  My Mom was a vocational director at the high school where she worked and suggested that I enroll in the vocational program at my high school.  I did and was placed at a beautiful china shop called The Brownie Shoppe.  A lady named Boots (I have no idea what her real name was, this was her nickname) was my manager and I loved her to pieces.  She taught me a lot about the world of work and tutored me in the manner in which to conduct myself while at work.  Plus, she talked me through some occasional teenage angst and like to take soft-serve yogurt breaks!

So, I tell you all of that to tell you this - this summer I'm doing my best impersonation of Boots.  And by that I mean that I have hired my children to help me get the shop ready for opening day and then requested that they continue on as sales staff for the few weeks before they are off to camp at the end of July.  I'm not sure if I have given them any valuable information to take with them on to future jobs but I have learned a little something about myself - I have quite a healthy "micro-manager" streak developing - and I'm sure if you were to ask them, they would say that it's actually a fully developed "micro-manager" streak!




So my kids have become my full-time, on-location carpenters slash painters slash electricians slash plumbers slash landscape experts.  Needless to say neither one of them had previously done a lot of this kind of work, so there has been quite a bit of on the job training.  The other day I was perched on a ladder changing out the gawd-awful  florescent lights that came with the space to something a little more attractive when I had this interaction with my kids:

ME:  Okay, lets see . . .  Oh, it looks like I need a different screwdriver than the one that I brought up here with me . . . could one of you go fetch me a Phillips?  The tool box is in the bathroom . . .

NOAH:  Right . . . I'll go get it  . . .

OLIVIA:  . . . (smiles and let's out a sigh and kinda sways from her heels to her toes as she swings her arms out in front of her and then to the back of her)

ME:  . . . . . . wait, wait and wait some more . . . .

NOAH:  I don't see it anywhere. . . . . . . What IS a Phillips?

OLIVIA:  (with a facial expression I'll never forget, like she was amused and tickled and overwhelmed all at the same time said this)  You named your screwdriver? . . . . how sweet! . . . . What's the hammer's name?

And after that I got nothin' . . . . except to say that my children and the Hubbs have worked the booties off along side me and I love them to pieces and thank them more than words can say!!

So below are a few photos of my children becoming familiar with the tools of their mother's trade and a glimpse or two into the decor choices for the shop.








Color inspiration photo courtesy Boden

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BREAKING NEWS!!!

LeAnn Stephenson


I admit it.  I flunk blogging.  I'm inconsistent and I take loooooooong breaks in between posts.

But today, I have news . . . BIG news!

If my blog were one of those 24-hour news channels like CNN or MSNBC, it would be running an endless loop of white banners at the bottom of your computer screen with phrases like VINTAGE LAUNDRESS SIGNS LEASE and LAUNDRESS TO REOPEN BRICKS AND MORTAR SHOP.  And, under the white banners would be "the crawl," - you know the endless moving line of script that reports the steps that I have taken over the last several weeks to prepare for opening day, from the paint colors that I have chosen to cover the walls of the store, to the number of friends, family and even customers that have come out of the woodwork to help get this venture up and running, to how much paint I find in my hair, under my fingernails, and on every single t-shirt and pair of shorts that I own on a daily basis.  I might even resort to using one of the most oversold phrases on the planet and slap a bright red banner that reads "BREAKING NEWS" across my blog header just for funzies. 

All of which you might think a little excessive, but I'm really excited about reopening the shop and want to share the details.  I mean, you have to admit, it's not like my BREAKING NEWS is something obvious like;  BREAKING NEWS:  NUNS DON'T CUSS or BREAKING NEWS: IT'S GOOD TO HAVE EARS.

So, back to my point (and I've buried my lead as usual);
BREAKING NEWS:  I'M REOPENING THE SHOP!

Below are a few photos of the shop before I got my hands and paint on it.  Thursday and Friday I will share "after" photos and supply the "what", "when" and "where" details of the grand opening.












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Contain Yourself: Narrowed Minded New York Nest

LeAnn Stephenson


In past posts I have made it abundantly clear that I have a bit of crush on Cary Grant. I think he's dreamy and he makes my heart do the cha-cha. He always seemed to portray in his films some version of the "man-of-the-world," or of himself, which seems to me to amount to the same thing. I believe he was the last of the truly elegant men. He was cosmopolitan but strong, absurdly good looking, but self-effacing, a cutup who could be a bit of a scoundrel, even a little wicked, but in the end, he would always do the right thing. In short, he was the man women yearned for and men yearned to be. He was one-of-a-kind, just like his former residence in New York.




If you missed last week's post featuring a home constructed from shipping containers you can check it out here.  In today's Contain Yourself post, I'd like to share photos of Mr. Grant's former home at 75 1/2 Bedford St. in New York City. At 9½ feet wide, it's the narrowest house in Manhattan. And you're in luck because it is back on the market. But, you will need long pockets if you want to live there because the asking price is a whopping $4.3 million, which is twice what it sold for in 2010. Other luminaries who have slept between its narrow walls are Pulitzer Prize winner Edna St. Vincent Millay, actor John Barrymore, anthropologist Margaret Mead, and cartoonist, William Steig.



The home has been meticulously renovated.


Just enough room for a bathtub.


The house has become part of New York's tourist trail

Photos courtesy Curbed, Daily Mail, and Alamy

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Funny How My Finest Hour Lasted a Minute and a Half

LeAnn Stephenson


So, I'm all a twitter cuz I'm in The Austin American Statesman today - on the front of the Lifestyles section even, yet, already!!  And, what's even cooler is that my presence there has nothing whatsoever to do with my being dead, imprisoned, or part of a scandalous news story! 

Freelance lifestyle journalist and good friend, Amy Gabriel, chose to feature me and my home in her new-ish series called Inner Space.   According to the Statesman, it's a monthly look inside some of Austin's most stylish nooks and nests.  How groovy is that?  I'm stylish and I have a nook AND a nest!  At least for today anyway!  Many thanks to Amy, the Statesman, and the talented freelance photographer, Ashley Landis, who shot these photos.

And if you're interested, you can read the full story here.  And you can get a sneak peek at the newly designed Vintage Laundry website here.

Happy almost Christmas Eve!





Photos courtesy Ashley Landis and the Austin American Statesman

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"Urine" For a Treat"

LeAnn Stephenson


There is no etiquette, no protocol for asking one's husband, " Did you by chance take a whiz on the bathroom floor this morning?"  It's just awkward.  This seems an obvious "good manners" faux pas, but there are certain aiming mis-judgments that polite society will permit.  People have been known to miss the boat, miss the point, and one's heart might miss a beat, and we simply shake our heads, shrug our shoulders and move on.  I mean I don't claim to be Emily Post or anything and nobody's perfect, right?  All of us are only human after all.  But, stepping in the contents of someone's bladder first thing in the morning is outlandish - and just a little antagonistic - it is sufficient to say that no one is prepared for being questioned about such matters. It's a far cry from "Is that your wet towel on the floor?"  And besides all of that, who would own up to such a thing?

Luckily, before I could even put the question on the table I realized that it was not da Hubbs but our kitty, Eva June, who had sprung a leak.  And being the opportunistic creature that I am, I would like to take advantage of this good segue opportunity . . . . So, I have another little leak to share with you about some newly posted inventory on my Etsy and "urine" for a treat!  Ha!  I sleigh me.  Get it?  "Sleigh" instead of "slay" - just a little bathroom slash Kris Kringle humor to get your Thursday goin', don't cha know?!

To begin with, I would like to show you this prissy pink perch in the photo above.  How great would this reproduction Louis XVI style tufted chair look at a mirrored desk or parked in front of a glam-y French vanity. It has been re-upholstered in a marvelous pink linen with two inch diamond tufting and the wood work has been guilt with a gold paint finish.



Next on the list are these elegant reproduction French Louis XV carved side chairs have an arching crest above a cartouche-shaped upholstered back with a serpentine apron raised on graceful cabriole leg. The wood treatment is a satin white paint and has been newly upholstered in a silver grey damask blended fabric with a double welting that gives them an amazing tailored yet feminine feel. I can only image how marvelous this pair would look on either side of a sofa table in a dining room or as intimate seating at a romantic table built for two.



And last you could take this stunning set of (4) vintage Parson's chairs and have our studios reupholster it in a fabric of your choice. Because you know how I feel about customization in the home - I figure it's like couture in the closet.

I've been envisioning this set of vintage Parson's chairs around a Saarinen pedestal table or pulled up to a curvy French farm table. They each have a six button tufted back with a straight apron at the seat raised on sleek squared pillar legs. The present vinyl upholstery is stained and worn so, they will need to be reupholstered - each chair will need 2.5 yards of a  solid fabric and 3.5 yards of a fabric that is patterned.

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Bohemian Rhapsody

LeAnn Stephenson


I know in my head that the best things in life aren't things. The best things are supposed to be experiences and relationships and junk like that - Right?!  But BOY, in my heart I would love to have one of these things!  I would also sell my pancreas for half the talent and imagination that Jeanne Bayol and Jean-Marie Marécha possess.


Deep in the heart of Provence, along the foothills of the Chaine des Alpilles Mountains, there are some of the most beautiful gypsy caravans in the world being restored by these two.  During the restoration process, Jeanne and Jean-Marie try to make sure and honor the essence of these marvelous pieces by staying true to the history that the caravans hold.  I can't help but feel a sense of mystery and enchantment of times past when I look at these sacred gypsy spaces. It seems to me that the idea of traveling towards the unknown is what inspires and sparks my imagination.  After all, isn't that what the gypsy's spirit entails? Jeanne and Jean-Marie want to capture just that in their restorations, which is what they call "a subtle mix of temporary and eternal." 



Apparently, it has now become quite posh to accessorize one's gardens with these lovely caravans.  Others, I've discovered, use them for a tea room, a guest house, a playhouse, or just a nice escape to sit and read a book. All are options I find simply delightful! 


Jeanne Bayol, a native of Provence, is a woman of many talents.  She can transform any event with her Bohemian touch, whether it be professional like fairs, seminars, or festivals, she can decorate private interiors, as well.  Her sense of color and creative taste have led her to design clothes that are genuinely unique and bear witness to the liberty to dress oneself in an audacious fantasy.  You can find images and information on those here.  She is also a prolific writer and those titles can be found here.



Photos courtesy Gipsybazar, Les-Verdines, and Jeanne Bayol

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A Hole In One

LeAnn Stephenson

I can handle going to the doctor because, in theory, they are supposed to help you and I like my doctor.  She's groovy and good at what she does.  Typically, I just see her once a year for physicals and the occasional Rx refill.

Well, as luck and my right foot would have it, I've gotten to see a lot of doctors in the last 3 weeks.

I'm pretty sure that my foot, the one that has seen so many doctors recently, was my favorite foot.

It usually behaves while carrying me from place to place with little complaint: a long, slender kick stand, located perfectly at the end of my right leg.

I thought the foot liked me, too.  I did everything I could to be kind to it, I bought it jazzy shoes, and scheduled pedicures for it and its brother, Lefty, now and then to express my love and appreciation for its never-ending hard work.

But being kind to something doesn't necessarily mean that it won't revolt someday.  My foot's revolt involved a rather large nail piercing the outer edge of my foot followed by a slight amount of blood escaping and a rather significant amount of swelling.  I wasn't doing anything particularly unusual when the revolution began; I was pulling up carpet in my master bath reno when a gi-normous nail that had anchored the carpet tacking strip down to the sub-floor of the bathroom decided to work its way through my tennis shoe and continue on into my foot and then on through the top side of my shoe - kind of a tennis shoe-foot-tennis-shoe-shish kabob kinda deal.  Well, long story short, as they say, 2 visits to a clinic, 2 visits to my own doctor, a tetanus shot, 4 different antibiotics, and trip to orthopedic surgeon I'm finally getting some relief from the pain, the swelling and I'm able to walk around again.

But, while I was propped up in my bed being a good patient and staying off said foot, I read . . . . A lot . . . I read books . . . I read labels . . . I read a ton-o-magazines and I read lots and lots of blog posts.  There was great inspiration in these posts as well great links to tons of marvelous products, artists, designers, etc.  Check out the photos and the links below- cuz  I'm  givey-sharey like that!

See you tomorrow with some pics of the progress on the master bath reno!


The Massey Bros. and their teams have imagined and developed public projects focusing on the human condition for 15 years now. Together, they have led social issues-related, public education campaigns dealing with women’s rights, education, pluralism, bigotry and extremism, civic engagement, social responsibility, and volunteerism, among other themes. They are the co-founders of the Portraits of Hope art, education and creative therapy program for children in hospitals and schools. A striking and very colorful public visual component is a signature of their projects and campaigns and I'm so very taken with their program and its concept and of course all of the beautiful color.

Photos courtesy Portraits of Hope and Loren Philip


These photos from Interior Design Magazine above are of Karim Rashid's New York apartment and they perfectly illustrate his rosy world view.  Part of Rashid's manifesto states that design is about the betterment of our lives poetically, aesthetically, experientially, sensorially, and emotionally - And I could not agree more! 

Photos courtesy Karim Rashid, Eric Laignel and Interior Design Magazine

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Bit Off More Than I Could Chew

LeAnn Stephenson


Last Thursday, July 8th , the phrase "Bit Off More Than I Could Chew," collapsed and later expired while making a guest appearance in The Vintage Laundress' master bath re-model.  The cause of death was officially determined to be "an understatement." Although the idiom has had a successful career at the Stephenson household, having had long-standing roles in the popular DIY series What Were You Thinking?, a series about a staircase and a stencil and Are You Smokin' Crack?, a series about the special relationship between blue painter's tape and a living room wall, both episodes produced by The Laundress.

"Bit Off  More Than I Could Chew" is survived by her husband, "You're Gonna Do What?", and her children, "Oh No She Di'int" and "Did You Take Your Meds?"

Discovered in a Home Depot in Austin, Texas in the late 90s by agent and DIY legend, "Measure Twice Cut Once," "Bit Off  More Than I Could Chew" signed a lucrative contract and found herself starring in multiple productions at The Vintage Laundry Studios.

"Pretty soon, 'Bit Off  More Than I Could Chew' was everywhere you looked," remembers her husband, "You're Gonna Do What?," who met his future wife on the set of The Love Shack, a series about owning your first home.  A fellow actor in that series, "Do It Your Own Self," was quoted as saying, " She was one of a kind and will be missed very much."

In lieu of flowers The Vintage Laundress requests that donations be made to the Comment Section below.


Photos courtesy House Beautiful, David Kaihoi and Ngoc Minh Ngo

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The Great Retro Redo Snafoo of 2010

LeAnn Stephenson


I've been told by trained professionals that my digital point and shoot camera is about to be sucked into "old, crappy, on-their-last-leg camera hell."  "See that right there?" one of 'em said, pointing to the silver duct tape holding it together.  "That there's just tragic."

Evidently, duct tape is the international indicator that it's time for a new camera - Who knew?

My camera made a kinda wounded-R2D2 sound followed by what I swear was a backfire noise and crumbled out of my hand onto the floor.  So, in short, this event, "The Great Retro Redo Snafoo of 2010," kinda makes showing you my most recent redo photos completely impossible.

So, instead, I have decided to go with a shameless plug for my Etsy site and would like to show you some photos of the new stuff I listed yesterday.  Go check them out here and here and see what you think.



See you tomorrow with a new Want It Wednesdays.

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