Retiring Chronically Vintage

Yesterday, after two very snowy weeks of early March, I felt the first tender rays of springtime warmth dance upon my skin. I took Annie out back and together we played amongst them, both entranced by a sensation that we had very nearly forgotten.

It was a moment of simple, untainted pleasure of that sort we all long for in our lives and it reminded me a great deal of the powerful feelings of warmhearted compassion that myself, Tony and Annie have been incredibly blessed to receive from scores of wonderful people – including many in the vintage community – over the past five months since the fire.

From that horrific day onward, there has been a part of me that had suspected this post would eventually happen. Perhaps many of you saw it coming as well.

What occurred to us on that fateful, (ironically) rainy October night changed us forever. In one fell swoop it rewrote our lives and tore into the fabric of who we were at our very cores.

Though some pieces have been mended, others that remained (now) strengthened, and some are lost forever, we are not the same people we were before the fire. I highly doubt most folks would be, if they went through something similar.

Hardship and challenges make you and shape you. They can break you, too, if you let them. Yet from that very first evening as we stood cocooned in shock and grief, we swore that we wouldn’t let that happen and with your profound help (of every conceivable variety), love and support, it hasn’t.

Though I had, for some time, remained optimistic that I’d be able to pick up here much like before, in the ensuing five months it has become glaringly apparent to me that such is simply not possible.

Too much has changed. Though my love for vintage, my tremendous appreciation for this community, and my passion for rocking old school styles will never waver for a moment, I have come to realize that, as much as it genuinely pains me to the pit of my soul, I need to retire this blog.

Between the continued (very) poor state of my health in the wake of the blaze, the challenging road ahead as we continue to rebuild our lives, and the reality that certain things can never go back to as they once were, I know in my heart of hearts that this is what is right and healthy for me at this stage in my life.

I want each of you to know, and pray that you will believe me when I say, that this decision did not come easily or lightly. I agonized over it relentlessly for months and talked about it with Tony until I the point where I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if he’d started throwing things at me to get me to drop the subject (of course my sweet husband would never actually do that, but I wouldn’t have blamed in the slightest him if he had!).

For the better part of eight years (including the 2.5 for which, before the fire, I had my eponymously named Etsy shop as well; it will not be returning either), this blog was a huge part of my world – just as each of you were.

I adore, care about, and appreciate all of you more than you will ever know. Parting ways, in a vintage blogging context at least, is beyond hard for me to do.

I have had many sleepless nights, shed my fair share of tears, negatively impacted my health further from the stress of debating what to do, rung my hands nearly raw with anxiety, searched the furthest recesses of my heart, and, again, did not get to this point easily or lightly. Please know however, that it is a choice that I have reached for certain. 

Here we are then and there’s no sense in dragging things out.

Instead I will thank you – each and every one of you – for the innumerable ways you’ve enriched my life since Chronically Vintage began in April 2009. We’ve talked, we’ve laughed, we’ve inspired one another, we’ve grown as people, we’ve changed, and we have come to be dear friends.

{You mean the world to me - each of you. Thank you for the great times, the kinship, and for your understanding about my tremendously difficult decision to retire CV. Vintage photo image source.}

In our darkest hour, you were there for me and my family and I will be grateful for your help, compassion and remarkable generosity (including both your monetary donations and care packages) for as long as I live.

The physical gifts you gave me (us) helped me to come back to many important parts of myself. They cloth me, we eat off of them, we even bath with some of your presents (soaps and a beautiful floral print shower curtain, for instance). You often knew what we needed, even if, in our haze of grief, we didn’t.

You took us by the hand and the heart, you believed in us and we have grown stronger in many ways again because of you – just as I have always derived strength and comfort from this amazing community.

While I will no longer be blogging here at Chronically Vintage, I plan to keep this site (which houses just over 1,500 posts) alive for all to enjoy, learn from, and be inspired by.

You can continue to connect with me on social media, where as time goes on, I hope to share an even broader scope of myself and my many different interests – a giant one of which will, of course, forever be vintage.

Thank you all so much. Thank you for the memories, the smiles, the joys, the ways in which you've helped me grow, and countless other things that will stay with me for all of my days. 

I want you to know that you can always email me and that, I hope, should any of you ever find yourself in dire straights, I can be there for you however possible, too. Just ask, night or day.

I won’t say goodbye, instead I will say that I love you. That you mean more to me than I could ever begin to put into words, and that I hope with all my might you’ll understand my exceedingly difficult decision to retire from this blog and to look ahead to other (largely unknown at present) chapters in my life.

It has been a joy and an honour to connect with all of you throughout CV’s life and I look forward to continuing to do so via social media (particularly on Instagram and Pinterest), your blogs, emails, snail mail, and other avenues for a long time to come.

Friendship, much like the appeal of the past itself, is often timeless and so too, in my eyes, are each of you. 

Forever and always your friend in all things vintage,

❤ Jessica

The totality (and impact) of losing everything

This is not, by any means, the most lighthearted of topics for my second entry of new year, I know, but I feel that in order to proceed forward and start afresh in my life, I truly need to share these thoughts with all of you.

As we sit here just over half of the way through January, it strikes me that it is entirely possible that the complete impact - insomuch as it pertains to our lives in the much longer run - may not have even fully presented itself yet, but again, I want and need to get some of these thoughts and reflections down on virtual paper all the same.

Most of you are aware that three months ago now, in mid-October, Tony and I lost our home, virtually all of our possessions, and our precious cat, Stella, when an arson fire destroyed the entire fourplex that our home belonged to.



{Exceptionally large volumes of water were required by the local fire department to put the multi-home blaze that destroyed our house out on the night of October 13th. It took several hours, but they were eventually successful in quashing the blaze before it spread to any of the dozens of other condos/townhouses in the immediate area. The end result of such though was that on top of the smoke and fire damage itself, our possessions were greatly harmed by water as well, including over five whole feet worth's that was shot into the basement alone - as you can imagine, everything there was a total write off, as was very nearly everything else in the whole house. Vintage image source.}



In the immediate aftermath, shock and disbelief filled our days. Our brains – or at least mine - fluctuated constantly from feeling completely foggy to clear as a bell. Adrenaline fueled us onward for weeks, sleep was elusive (and fraught with nightmares when it did happen), and we absolutely had to focus on tasks like the arduous insurance claim process, getting an approved removal crew into the burned out remains of our house (this step was required for our insurance claim), and buying those day-to-day staples of life that were most pressing and important.

Amidst this chaos, emotions soared, hearts ached, and a sense of disbelief rang out across the crisp autumn air. One day we had a happy home filled with our belongings, I was running my Etsy shop, our pets were both fine, and we were getting ready to celebrate our wedding anniversary the very next day (October 14th).

Then, that night, everything changed instantly when one person's staggeringly malicious, thoughtless and life threatening act destroyed just about everything under our roof (save, thank goodness, for our own lives and that of our precious dog, Annie).

More than mere things themselves, I was struck almost instantly by the haunting sense that I had lost my very identity (or at least a sizable portion of it) - as well as the cocoon of comfort and serenity that I had build up for myself throughout my adult life.

As a someone who does relentless battle day in and day out with multiple severe chronic illnesses and who is frequently far too unwell to leave the house for days, weeks, and sometimes even months at a time, my home was my beautiful sanctuary. It wasn't huge, but it teemed with items of all sorts that brought me incredible joy and peace, inspiration and comfort.

In many ways, it really did feel like a suit of armour that helped, at least in part, to shield me from whatever life threw our way - that is until it vanished quite literally in a (giant) puff of smoke.

I remember, shortly after the fire, sitting on my parent's couch one morning - borrowed clothing hanging from my exhausted shoulders - and being struck by the fact that I felt an unforgettable mix of numbness, gut wrenching emotion, and as though I was witnessing someone else's life unfold before my eyes, as right then and there, my world no longer felt like my own.



{For the first few weeks immediately following the fire, I felt adrift without my usual wardrobe, surroundings and possessions. It was an alien and vastly unpleasant sensation and one that I would never wish on anyone. Thankfully, the more time that passes, the less this feeling takes center stage. Vintage image source.}


Mercifully, though elements of those feelings all still linger, something astonishing happened to help bring me back to myself: all of you.

From your staggeringly generous monetary donations, to your awesome care packages, to supporting us via the surprise of a lifetime that was the private VSS, literally thousands (in total) of caring emails, private messages, and blog comments, and scores of other amazing ways, the vintage community was there to catch me and Tony and Annie alike as we proverbially fell further and further into the abyss of this tragedy.

Your hands and hearts reached out to us. In some instances we didn't know yet know you, in others we'd been friends for many years, and in others still, we might have only been acquainted for a short while, but no matter what, you were there for us.

It was as humbling and touching a thing as either of us have ever experienced in our entire lives and the mere words "thank you" will never feel like enough to express our deepest of gratitude to all of you.

There is a great totality that comes with losing everything (again, virtually - we estimate that we lost at least 99.95% of everything that we had before the blaze and I really want to stress that, of course, while I'm speaking mostly from a first person perspective here, my darling husband Tony lost everything, too, and was likewise hit to his core by such) - especially when it is caused by someone else's hands and comes completely out of the blue.

"Everything" may be an easy ten letter word to say, but wrapping one's mind around - and fully accepting - what that really means in terms of your home and its contents is another beast entirely.

At first - and to a degree, still even now - the closest thing that my brain could compare how it felt to suddenly not be around my possessions any longer was to liken it to being on a holiday and having lost your luggage en route, thus seeing yo reach your destination with just the clothing on your back.

This was no vacation though - very far from it - and as we came came to grips with what losing everything really did entail, a barrage of emotions, thoughts and pain hit us hard. Yet we persevered.

We were alive and unscathed physically by the blaze, we had each other and Annie, and as dark as things were, a voice deep inside of us kept reminding us that there would be brighter days again - we would just need to be patient and keep working hard to make them happen.

Though most of you know me primarily because of my strong ties to, and passion for, all things vintage and I certainly lost a substantial amount of antique, vintage, vintage reproduction, and vintage appropriate items (some categories of which - such as hats, plastic jewelry, and mid-century novelty print skirts, as well as books, magazines and catalogs - continue to pain me more than I could have ever imagined their loss to do), that was not all that I lost by any means.


Some other key categories of my personal belonging included the following:

-A massive supply of scrapbooking, stamping and other paper crafting related supplies (honestly, I had more than I could probably have ever used in ten lifetimes and it was a collection that I was both proud of and extremely grateful for). As well, all of my completed scrapbooks were lost, too. That cuts to the core, let me tell you.

While fortunately I did have photographs that had been uploaded to Scrapbook.com of some of my finished projects, dozens of pages and cards hadn't been shared publicly yet and as my computer and our external hard drives were all destroyed in the fire, so too were the images of I had of these creations.

The loss of my craft room and its contents is on my mind constantly and, as time goes on, rebuilding a new version of it will be an immense priority for me, as crafting is essential to my happiness, well being, and the state of my health.


-A large supply of jewelry making products, tools, and related items including multiple totes full of vintage findings, cabochons, beads, charms, etc.

-A smaller, but still decent sized, selection of other assorted crafting supplies, including items for cross stitching, embroidery, sewing (sewing machine included), and holiday decor making.

-All of my photography equipment - Canon DSLR, lens, flashes, tripods, stands, backdrops, a white box, camera bags, etc. You name it, it was destroyed.

-Over 600 modern books (and hundreds of vintage ones, too), plus dozens and dozens of crafting and home decor related magazines.

-A substantial collection of Canadian and (to a lesser degree) international Girl Guide and Girl Scout patches, badges, pins, books, uniforms, and other related items, many of which would be next to impossible - due to their scarcity - to replace these days, even if one had Bill Gate's bank account at their disposal.

-A few dozen plush toys (stuffed animals), a few modern dolls (including some Pullips and their wardrobes), and even a few of my childhood toys.

-Oodles of Halloween and Christmas decor (including some family heirloom items), and a smaller array of decor for various other holidays.

-At least three large totes of items from my childhood + teenage years and another couple full of keepsakes, letters, and souvenirs pertaining to my adult life.

-A substantial number of items pertaining to my spirituality.

-Every single item (listed or unlisted at the time of the fire) for my Etsy vintage shop, as well as all of my props, packaging and shipping materials, and every thing else related to my business.




{Like most of us, I had amassed my possessions over the course of many years and listing everything would be quite the task, so I've opted to just focus on some of the key areas here, especially since they're the same ones that I'll be aiming to rebuild collections of from here on out. Vintage image source.}


There are were many other things, too - from family photo albums to 40+ metal cookie cutters, medical supplies to our printer - that were lost, as well scores of the sorts of things that most of us barely even think about on a day-to-day basis, such as toothbrushes, pots and pans, undergarments, vitamins, and countless other items.

As well, in losing my computer and external drive, I lost a great deal of information and images pertaining to my blog, including Word documents that housed hundreds of potential ideas for future blog posts, all of the images I’ve shared here over the years (including photos of myself), drafts of about twenty future blog posts, and research that had been gathered for dozens more.

I want, and need, to mention, that I don't list the physical items above or talk about what I used to own in any sort of (intentionally) bragging or even so-called "humble bragging" kind of way. That is , categorically, the polar opposite of the type of person that I am and I would never want anything that I do or say to come across in that way.

This post is being penning both as a healing tool for myself and, to a degree, for a sense of posterity, as well as to honour, in a way, the memory of those items that were lost.

My collection took a lifetime to amass - a combination of online and in person purchases, coupled with a fair number of items that were amazing gifts from friends, family, CV readers, neighbours, and (in more recent years) blog sponsors, too.

A great deal of what I had was bought on sale and very often even modest items were saved for before being purchased. I never took what I had for granted and was (and still am) immeasurably grateful to have had an abundance of possessions pertaining to so many areas that are near and dear to my heart before the fire.

Given that we were grossly under insured (far more so than we realized before the fire; we would have increased our coverage had we known), we won't be able to replace most of what we lost beyond the bare bones basics of our household needs (dishes, bedding, towels, a table and chairs, etc), nor are we otherwise in an economic position to do so.

This stings, of course, but as I constantly remind myself, once, a fairly long time ago now, I started out with nothing and created the life that I (and later "we") had as an adult.

There was a time when I didn't own a single scrapbooking item, when I could fit all my books into a lone backpack, and further back still, when I was just starting to wear vintage and owned less mid-century pieces than I had fingers on one hand.

Though I never imagined that I'd need to start from scratch again in some many different areas of my life at the age of 32, that I am (doing) and instead of bemoaning what was lost, I am just thankful to be alive and to have the chance to rebuild certain collections over the course of time.

There are many, many factors that will prevent me from most likely having the same sized collections again - at least not for decades - and I accept all of those as best I can.

Some of these factors include things such as that a lot of what I used to own was bought online back when the US and Canadian dollars were on par and (also) USPS postage rates were still reasonable, that there are few to none (depending on the category of items) shops in our town that sell such items, and that that our household budget and expenses are vastly different today than where they were, say, when I was in my mid-twenties. In addition, there is the critical fact that we need to focus our finances elsewhere at present and for the foreseeable future.

It is certainly possible that some categories may never really materialize into collections again (I sense Girl Guide related items may be one such area, for example) and again, others will likely be smaller.

As much as I'd love to go on a giant shopping spree, that isn't even remotely possible. Instead, in what is perhaps a very vintage approved sort of manner, I will gather items slowly and with great though. Each dollar weighed, each purchase contemplated. Baselines, so to speak, of various categories will be - and in some cases, already are beginning to be - established and built upon.

Just as Rome wasn't built in a day (though, much like our old house, it too burned), my future wardrobe and the other areas of my world that matter to me will take time to rebuild.

I am trying to look upon this as challenge as an adventure. A chance to hone in all the more on those areas that matter most to me, to discover new treasures, rewrite wish (and holy grail/unicorn) lists, and not, importantly, feel like I need, by any means, to own as much as I did before.

I loved everything that I had and will miss nearly all of it for the rest of my life, but thankfully in the world at large, there are still lots of most of those types of things to be had and some of them will end up living with me.

We lost so much that night. At first I felt like a fish out of water. My vintage threads were gone, my comfort zone had been obliterated, our wonderful cat's life was taken, and my Etsy business was destroyed. Our lives were on their heads and everything felt out of sorts.

Now, several weeks after the fire, thankfully, a greater sense of order is beginning to enter our world again. We have met - in no small part thanks to the aid of others - many of our basic needs, we have a temporary roof over our heads until at least this March (the search began in full force earlier this month for longer term accommodations, as touched on here), and there is a degree of structure in our world again.

It isn't the same world as before the blaze. That would be impossible. It different. Starkly, extremely different, but it is also positive because we've survived and in time, that survival will, we truly hope, progress to thriving as well.

The unexpected can happen to any of us at any point in time. Tragedy hurts, loss hurts, and devastation hurts. It is important to feel those emotions and not try to brush them off, to live through the process honestly and openly. Yet it is also just as important to believe in the future and yourself. To think positively and focus more on what you still have, then what was stripped away.

There are, and will continue to be, many challenges in our lives that would not have been present if this arson fire didn't occur, but that's okay. We'll tackle them head on, bolstered by the strength of those who care about us and a steadfast belief that we rise up again.

This new year is the ideal time to really begin down that path and I am so thankful that it's here. I have no clue what 2017 holds in store, but I can promise you that it will see us continue to fight, to put the pieces back together, and to reconnect with many things that have been integral parts of our world for a long time now.



{Even when - and arguably even more so - times are tough, there are still valuable constants in our life to focus on and get excited about, and few work better for new beginnings than the annual return of January. Vintage image source.}


Even though my previous belongings are gone, it's awesome that Chronically Vintage and the online community at large that it belongs to are still here. Physical objects matter and there's nothing wrong with that in the slightest, but life, how will fill our days, the relationships we experience, how treat one another, and the way that we lead our lives matter far more.

Thank you for allowing me the chance to share these cathartic thoughts with of all of you here today - very good job, if you've made it this far. I know this wasn't the smallest of blog posts by any means. :)

Here's to 2017 - each day and every hour, the prospects and promises that it holds in store, the many firsts and old favourites alike.

Let us hope that it is not only a good year, but a great one for ourselves, our loved ones, and the world at large. We need it something fierce!


*PS* Thank you very much for as well to everyone who commented on my last post and/or otherwise expressed care and concern regarding my minor surgery last week. I'm happy to report that it went smoothly and that I'm now recovering at home (I'll have my followup doctor's appointment in a few days's time).

My health in general though, as touched on in that same post, is struggling massively in the aftermath of the fire. It took me, for example, more than two full weeks - working in stops and starts, as I could muster the ability to do so - to pen this post. Pre-fire, it would have almost certainly have been written in a single day.

As you can imagine, this situation is currently having a profound impact on my ability to blog or be online in general, and between my health and the continued hectiness and challenges of our lives, my posts here, if possible at all, will be very sporadic and I view this site as still being on indefinite hiatus.

I appreciate your understanding and kindness on this front beyond words.

Returning home today

A few days ago, in my last post before we zipped off on holiday, I mentioned that we'd be returning home on September 11th, however, having so enjoyed overnighting part of the way through our journey to Edmonton, we decided while there to do the same on the way home.

Though not technically the halfway mark - or even really that close to it - between Edmonton and Penticton, we settled on a city that I love with every fiber of my being, Calgary, for a quick pit stop last night before heading back out on the road this morning.

Getting to see my favourite Canadian city (okay, technically it shares that spot with Victoria, BC, which I adore equally so, though often for different reasons) , even just for a few hours, is always A-okay with me and I'm grateful for the opportunity to do so on this final leg of our trip.

A little later in the morning today, we'll be packing up our car once and for all on this holiday and settling in for the eight (plus a bit more with the occasion rest stop) hour drive from Calgary to Penticton.



{The start of fall's changing landscape and many a long stretch of open road await Tony and I as we head home from Alberta today. I really enjoy lengthy drives, so am quite looking forward to this one - especially with the first jewel toned autumn leaves starting to appear around us. Vintage image source.}


We'll get into Penticton this evening after twelve wonderful days of travelling. Though the weather wasn't always ideal (the first few days in Alberta were unseasonably cold and rainy), we managed to get in numerous outfit shots and I'll be sharing each of those with you in the coming weeks and months.

I know that many of the details of my first ever trip to Edmonton will unfold organically in those posts, so I don't want to recap too much right now, but I will say that we had a really lovely time on our trip.

Edmonton is a fascinating and beautiful city of over a million people. Within hours of being inside of its farmland flanked borders, I was struck by how much it made me think of what a place might be like, were it possible for Vancouver (minus the Pacific Ocean) and Calgary had a child, with elements of Toronto swirled into the mix, too.

Like most locations that one has long wanted to visit, it was both very similar and somewhat different from how I'd imagined it to be - and that's a good thing, if you ask me. I love it when a town or city surprises and delights me - and perhaps most of all, when it leaves me wanting to return again, which Edmonton most certainly did.

Over all we had a great, fun filled time in Edmonton that included multiple meetups with fellow vintage folks (some of whom will appear in the aforementioned future outfit posts), lots of sightseeing, some shopping (vintage and otherwise), exciting rural countryside exploring, peaceful walks, and plenty of fun photo opps along the way.

I wholeheartedly want to thank all of you who have left blog comments on recent posts during my absence, very much including those on the three fantastic guest posts from Nicole, Elizabeth, and Tanith, respectively, that appeared here last week. I know that each of those talented ladies appreciates your kind comments a great deal and I can't thank them enough as well for helping to keep things buzzing here while we were on holiday.

Aside from starting to unpack, it will be back to life and work from tomorrow onwards, very much including on the blogging front. There will be new posts coming down the pipeline this week (and of course, beyond then, too) and I fully expect to be back to my regular online ways in full force this week.

To give you a taste of what's to come here on Chronically Vintage in the near future, I'll be blogging about topics as diverse as my time spent with The Travelling Dress, shining the spotlight on dozens (seriously!) of recipes for one of fall's most classic and beloved ingredients, telling you about my all-time favourite fictional couple, and starting to write up a storm on all things Halloween related, while also sharing plenty of outfit posts and the latest entries in the fun ongoing Meet a Fellow Vintage Blogger series, amongst lots of other exciting topics.

No time of the year speaks to my soul as much as autumn, nor does any season light my blogging fires quite as much, so you can bank on an action packed, engaging, informative, and just plain cheerful slew of posts here on Chronically Vintage this autumn (coupled with, I hope/plan, a bevy of recently acquired new vintage and antique items appearing on the shelves of my Etsy shop).

A point that will be bolstered along all the more by the recharging of my batteries and clarity of mind that came with our lovely trip to Edmonton this month.

Travel, as I've talked about before (in posts such as this), always houses many wonderful blessings and surprises, and having a chance to unwind and, at the same time, plan for the future while away is most definitely one of the very best of these.

Vintage Links, Life, Love: July 29, 2016

Can you guys believe that we're just two days away from the end of the month? As touched on recently in this post, I wouldn't say that July has felt like the speediest of months in the slightest.

In a way this is a good thing - after all, who doesn't want summer to feel like it stretches on! - but in another, it's not so fabulous, because I know the personal life + health (+ earlier on in the month, the Canada Post strike situation) reasons why such has been the case and do really wish that such weren't the reason for July's leisurely pace.

Oh well, that's life. There are smooth months (and years) and rocky ones, and certainly July housed some really lovely points, too, please don't get me wrong.

From Canada Day to my birthday to those rare moments of sunshine (we're had 3.5 months of the wettest weather I've ever experienced in the Okanagan – or anywhere in Canada, for that matter!), plus some more positive highlights, that I'll touch on later on in today's brand new edition of Vintage Links, Life, Love, there were positives and I’m very grateful for each of them.



Links:

How to make (tie) a glamorous 1940s turban: When the sun is out in full force, and conversely, if you live south of the equator and want an extra layer of warmth on your head, the last thing most of us want is to have our hair on our necks. Enter the endlessly chic turban, which this great post from Glamour Daze takes you through the genuine 1940s steps of mastering.


Why I Love Mechanical and Early Electric Televisions: Though most of us think of television as having entered the scene in the 1950s, in reality, earlier versions had already existed for more than two decades and this detailed, informative post from Carrie Anne does a wonderful job of highlighting some of the ground breaking sets that would lay the foundation for the future of TVs everywhere.


DIY Victory Brooch: Bianca’s tutorials are always fantastic and so well laid out, and this recent entry on how to make a dead simple - yet incredibly impactful - hand painted Victory brooch from basic craft store supplies is no exception. Trust me, once you've read it, you'll be making a beeline for Michael's pronto!


Tips on dressing for a 1920s Lawn Party: The epitome of summertime chic, lawn (and garden) parties are a wonderful tradition that deserves dressing to the nines for. You'll be well on your way to doing just that with this lovely, imaged filled post from Blue Velvet Vintage's blog.


How to make vintage style shoulder pads: Though they gained, fairly justifiably, a fairly harsh reputation following the 1980s, the fact of the matter is shoulder pads have been around for quite some time now and were an integral part of many mid-century (especially early to mid-1940s) fashions. They can help a garment fall/drape in the style it was intended and are not all to be shunned entirely. If you've ever wanted to know how to make a modest sized pair of your own, this great how-to from Carla is just the ticket!


Confessions of a Small Time Blogger: From the always engaging blog Happy, Pretty, Sweet, comes a hugely easy to relate to post about what it's really like to be an established, well known, but still (compared to some of the household name fashion bloggers) small fish in a large pond. Honest and insightful, I highly recommend reading this post no matter the size of your blog and its audience.


DIY Floral Crowns: What would summer be without the sweetly charming classic that is the floral crown. If you're ever wanted to whip up your own handmade version using real blooms, Madison's beautiful tutorial will have your noggin' looking festival (and/or photo shoot) ready in no time.


WW2 Yearbooks Directory: If, like myself, you're an avid fan of collecting or simply looking at vintage yearbooks, than this awesome site from The National World War II Museum in New Orleans - is sure to find favour with you and likely be where you spend numerous hours in the next little while.


Harem Pants: A Most Interesting and Scandalous History: Nicole has put together one of the most detailed, fantastic looks at the rich history or harem pants that I've ever seen. Chocked full of informative facts and splendid images, after reading her excellently presented entry, chances are you'll never look at this voluminous style of bottoms quite the same way again. (And speaking of the always lovely Nicole, I also really enjoyed her recent tutorial on The Unconventional Way to Make a Hat.)


Things bloggers wish they could tell brands: I could nod until the end of time and I still don't know if it would convey just how much I strongly agree with the majority of what Amber said in this poignantly spot entry regarding some of her thoughts about the blogger + brand relationship (the main point that we differ on is that I personally experience some great benefits from hosting giveaways and am always sincerely touched when a company wants to team up with my blog in that capacity).

I really commend her for speaking so openly and truthfully about this topic and suspect that many of you who collaborate with companies on your respective sites will also be nodding up a storm as you read this post.


‘Brawny and Buoyant’: A Portrait of West Coast Youth of the 1950s: Starring snaps taken in 1951, this eye-catching entry from Life Magazine highlights youth being, well, youth during the summer months and captures the spirit of what life was like, for some people at least, who grew up during that vibrant era.





Life:

As touched on above, July has been a mixed bag sort of month, complete with soooo much more rain (to the point where such is honestly impacting my ability to post outfit photos here as frequently as I usually during the summer months).

Thankfully things have calmed down, for the time being, on the Canada Post strike front, and as such, last Friday, I launched the first ever Christmas in July Sale over at my Etsy shop, which is still going underway (pop on over and save 25% off everything in my shop until July 31st).

Looking ahead to the second half of the summer, fingers crossed, things may be all the more enjoyable. The first week of upcoming month launches the off the August long weekend civic holiday, which falls on the 1st this year.

This is swiftly followed by Tony's (36th) birthday on the 6th, and then either on the very last day of August or the 1st of September, we'll be heading off for a much needed getaway, which I'll be blogging about here in much greater detail very soon.

Beyond that, summer will start to wrap up and we'll ease into my absolute favourite season, autumn (and in turn, Halloween), which always brings me an inordinate amount of joy. In fact, for those who you who eat/breath/sleep/live for it as much as I do, you'll be thrilled to know that there only 94 days to go until All Hallows' Eve returns.

I'm already giving major consideration to my costume, my party menu, my decor, and my blog posts for the spooktastically fun season, and so much more surrounding my all-time favourite holiday. It's going to be awesome!!!





Love:

All of the kind, touching birthday wishes you guys showered me with online (and in a few cases, off, too), earlier this month. I just have to say, with all my heart, thank you again for your lovely words and positive wishes for my 32nd year of life. I really like to think that they'll help such to be even better and more upbeat.

Binge watching the British TV series Mr. Selfridge. In less than a month, I plowed through the first three seasons (on Netflix Canada) and am very eagerly awaiting the fourth, which is set to be released later this year. For those who aren't familiar with the show, it's a period series that starts off in the early Edwardian years and focused on the life of the Selfridge family, who opened the world renowned Selfridge's department store in London.

Much as with Downton Abbey, the show progresses quite quickly from the turn of the century to the years of WWI to the roaring twenties and provides a treasure trove of vintage fashion inspiration for anyone with an interest in that time frame (or, really, vintage fashion in general). A good blend of drama, fun and suspense, this is one of my favourite historical series in a long time and definitely a must watch for vintage fans everywhere.

Getting a morning (or, anytime!) dose of "awww" care of the Daily Puppy. This site has been around for quite a while now and never fails to make one gush and feel better, no matter what's transpiring in your life. Looking at puppies = happiness, after all. :)

Finally carving out a speck of time to craft again. I know, honestly, this one just about bowls me completely over, too. After, for all intents, not having crafted for more than three years, and in any sort of regularly occurring capacity for the better part of five, I have given myself the gift of a little bit of time to craft (chiefly scrapbooking so far), when my health permits each week, and honestly can't put in towards how amazing it feels again.

I'm happier, (much to my surprise and delight) I'm sleeping a touch better, I feel more at peace, and my creative mojo is running at mock one speed in just about all areas of my life (blogging very much included) thanks to this fact.

Though I know full well all the reasons why so little crafting has happened in recent years, I've made a promise to myself to try and craft at least 2 - 4 times a month from now on and suspect that doing so will continue to have a profound and deeply important impact on my life.

Thunderstorms aplenty. While I do so wish that the rain would hightail it out of town and we could finally experience full-on summertime weather here, one of the perks (to my mind at least, as I greatly enjoy them) of all the damp weather has been the period thunder and lightning storms that have been transpiring over our heads lately. On one occasion, while we were driving along side Okanagan Lake in the vicinity of Peachland, we even saw lightning and a rainbow at the same time, which was a first for both Tony and I.

This incredibly touching story about a woman and her husband (with three children of their own already) who adopted her dear friend's six children when the mother (her friend) passed away at the age of just 39 years old. If that doesn't personify love, compassion, goodness and grace, I don't know what.

Blueberries! Last week Tony and I received two large sized containers of fresh blueberries as a free gift with purchase for spending above a certain order total at Superstore and noshed on them all week long, freezing those that we couldn't get to while they were still in peak shape. They were a fantastic - and very healthy - way to liven up our meals and will stand as one of the culinary highlights of this season for me.



{While we did find ourselves with a slew of plump, sweet little blueberries recently, they weren't quite enough to take a bath in, like this lovely Blueberry Beauty Queen did back in 1955.}



{To learn more about a specific image used in today's post, please click on it to be taken to its respective source.} 

♥ ♥ ♥

And so here we are, at the last Friday of July. Even if this month didn't feel as quick as all that lightning we've been having lately, the season as a whole is bouncing along a speedy clip, as it usually does.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that August will be a drier month, but objectively, wouldn't place any wagers on such, given how bizarrely rainy things have been here lately. No matter what Mother Nature has up her sleeve, I'm sure we'll make the best of it - especially while celebrating the August long weekend (which coincides with our town's annual Peach Festival) - and my sweet husband's birthday.

What's on the agenda for you as we get ready to welcome August back into our lives, my dears? Have you been getting treated to a fabulously sunny summer or slogging it out with raindrops a plenty, too?

I hope that you're all doing great and want to take a moment to wrap up this post by wholeheartedly thanking everyone who left a blog (and/or social media) comment for me on any of my posts this month. The summer blogging slump is a very real phenomenon and I truly appreciate those who take the time to comment even in the midst of the busy, exciting summer season.

Things like that never go unnoticed or unappreciated by me and are a big part of the reason why I can safely say that I have one of the best group of blog readers in the world.