November 3, 2011

Thoughts on how to be vintage


Day 307 of Vintage 365


Good morning, sweet dears, in addition to appearing on Chronically Vintage today, I was recently asked by my good friend Collette, from the stellar blog, Serendipity Handmade, to write a guest piece for her site while she's away from the blogging front this week. If you're not acquainted with Collette's delightful site, I encourage you to hop over there right away and check it out - there's something for all manner of vintage and craft fans alike.

Of all the questions I'm asked pertaining to my love – and daily celebration - of the past, one of the most common is definitely, "How can I be vintage?".

This query, often posed with great earnest, as though I can see the asker whipping out a notepad and pen inside their head, is always one that takes a moment to answer. Not because I think it's a tricky question per se, but because I think it warrants a solid answer that comes from many years of blending the worlds of yesteryear and today throughout many facets of my life.

My Malcolm Gladwell approved response, the one that has flashed to my mind first on nearly every occasion I've been presented with this particular inquiry, is that a person either is or is not inherently a vintage lover.

That answer, however, may strike some as anything from trite to cute, glib to right on the money, and what I mean by it is that I've never looked at "being vintage", as something I have to work at. It is not an act, a game, or a passing flirtation.

From the earliest days for which I have concrete memories, I can recall being fascinated, enamoured, enchanted, and influenced by the years that occurred before my own lifetime. To me history only truly becomes a part of the ancient past when we stop integrating it into our lives. Being vintage isn't something I decide to be or not to be. I simply am vintage.

But what does that mean exactly? Well, each person who views themselves as a vintage lover surely must define this point on their own terms, but to me it means one who integrates the past (in my own personal case the years spanning the 1930s - 1950s) into their own life in a myriad of ways.

I do not despise or even dislike the present - or the years I've known thorough the last three decades, not at all. Though, I am the first to say that I'm fonder of many elements (not all, but quite a few) from the years that called the mid-twentieth century home.

Like many lovers of bygone days, I'm drawn to - and primarily wear - vintage fashions. Nestled in my modest sized closet one will find skirts and slips, dresses, cardigans, blouses, accessories, hats, shoes, and sundry other wardrobe items that were made during the 1940s or 50s (as well as a carefully curated selection of modern pieces that look very much as though could have been plucked from a department store during those two decades).

My hair and make-up both also adhere to the styles of these fascinating years, and throughout my house one will a selection of items - spanning the spectrum from vintage cookbooks to quaint little woven box housing a selection of authentic vintage sewing patterns that could easily have come from a three generations ago.

Yet being vintage is more than just surrounding myself with - and wearing - the past, though these are certainly important components. For me it is acquiring a solid knowledge of the history, fades, trends, arts, foods, people, and nuisances of the decades I adore most. It’s understanding and appreciating the lives of those who so often exist now only in memories and photographs. There is no one book - or even ten books - that can teach you everything about a whole decade (let alone multiple decades), nor, really, should there be.


{Photographs, such as this immensely glamorous one from 1952 featuring a beautiful model in an equally stunning Dior dress, are amongst my very favourite ways to learn about the decades I hold nearest and dearest to my heart, and which I've longed turned to in my quest to know the past on a very personal level. Image via herecomesthesky on Flickr.}

The past is meant to be learned as one goes through life, absorbing knowledge from books, certainly, but also from firsthand accounts, stories passed down through the generations. From trips to fact filled museums, second hand stores, plaques on historical building, old movies, art, black and white TV shows, photography, faded magazine pages, the lines of a classic car, internet sleuthing, song lyrics that one topped the charts, venerable homes with charming front porches, handwritten letters discovered in musty attics, in priceless heirlooms and ephemera that was never designed with the purpose of seeing the light of 2011.

It is this knowledge - which one gathers and expands thorough their entire life - that gives a person, I feel, the backbone upon which to build a vintage loving life. With it you are better equipped to seek and find the clothing, home decor, art, and other fascinating items of your favourite decades that you want to bring into your day-to-day world.

Not to contradict what I said earlier on, for I really do think that loving vintage is something that is at least partially ingrained, but one can become a vintage lover at any age. Though I started very young, you can pick up the past any time you like. It's always there, just waiting to be studied and appreciated, absorbed and treasured.

Having a deeply rooted adoration of vintage is a blessing, in my eyes, one that does not fall on everybody's shoulders by any means. It allows you to live beyond the confines of today, this year, even this decade. In choosing - or having the universe choose you - to be a vintage lover, you are making a pact with the past that you're going to celebrate it in the ways that bring you the most happiness every day.

So to those who are curious about “how to be vintage”, I say, quite matter-of-factly, " just be". Seek the past and ye shall find. There is no shortage of history to be researched and loved, worn, embraced and uplifted. Find the years or decades that speak to you the most, learn about and from them, while also filling your world, however much your heart desires, with elements from that era.

If you do, there's a very good chance that before you know it, someone, perhaps while admiring your gorgeous 1940s ensemble, might just stop and ask you how they too can be vintage.


November 2, 2011

1940s Gingerbread Peach Cake is a cold weather winner


Day 306 of Vintage 365


 

With Halloween fresh in our minds and, for many, scads of candy still in the house, you might not be in the mood for a cloyingly sweet dessert at the moment, yet would still like to have something lovely to serve your family or guests after dinner in the coming days.

At this time of the year, though most fruits have passed their peak season, one can still avail of autumn specialities like apple, pears, and citrus fruits (many of which are just starting to come into their own as winter approaches).

However, if you're not quite ready to forget the flavours of the warmer months quite yet, there's always options like frozen and canned fruit to help see you through until spring's return. Today's delightful 1940s recipe for Peach Gingerbread Cake calls a mere four ingredients (including canned peaches), yet is nothing short of fantastic!

Straddling the culinary realms of summer, thanks to the juicy peaches, and winter - with the inclusion of fragrant spices that marry to create the distinct taste of gingerbread - this recipe is one that can be whipped up in minutes and on the table under and hour, making it perfect for busy autumn nights and weekends.


{Charming and very delicious sounding 1940s Gingerbread Peach Cake recipe via curly-wurly on Flickr.}

 

If you have a little more time on your hands and feel so inclined, you can always use your favourite homemade gingerbread recipe, here. Likewise, you're free to add anything you fancy to this delicious cake, from extra cinnamon to nuts (walnuts or almonds would both be such a nice touch). You could forgo the whipped cream and get a bit more decadent with a cream cheese or buttercream frosting if you wanted - dark or white chocolate ganache would be another scrumptious option, too.

Thanks to its presentation, the lush peach slices tumbling down over the cake, this dessert is one that instantly looks beautiful and is perfect for serving guests at tea or simply enjoying with your honey in front of a crackling fire.

Sweet, but not saccharine, this wonderful gingerbread cake is a great store cupboard ingredient staple that will serve you well all through the frosty months that lay ahead.


November 1, 2011

Happily welcoming November's return


Day 305 of Vintage 365


 

There's always a certain unmistakable blending of seasons that takes place on the first day of November. Though we're squarely smack dab in the middle of autumn still, waking up on this initial day of the month one is struck instantly by the fact that Halloween, sadly, is over for another long year. For those who adore October 31st dearly like I do, this can take a little while to get over.

However, on the other (if your weather is anything like mine this week, "gloved") hand, there's that voice is your head (perhaps it sounds like Bing Crosby crooning one of his classic holiday songs)reminding you that the winter holiday is soon around the corner. And as it does, a hint of excitement begins to well up inside your soul.

My Halloween was fabulous - candy and decorations, spooky make-up and lots of great memories - and while I am a little blue that's over once more, I can already feel a stirring of anticipation and happiness flowing through my veins for Christmas and New Years, and every last wonderful tradition and event that coming two months hold in store.

Though up here in Canada we've already celebrated our Thanksgiving (back on October 10th), this special day is on the horizon still for my neighbours to the south. November also brings with it the solemn, but endearingly beautiful, observance that is Remembrance Day on the 11th.

Beyond holidays, November means (in this neck of the woods usually at least) the switch from the glistening, golden sunlight of earlier fall to the soft, subtly grey tinged pale light of early winter. It's pots of hearty soup simmering for hours on the stove to nourish chilled bodies, the mandatory wearing of heavy coats, and stores suddenly overflowing with Christmas decorations.


{Wonderfully adorable November 1956 cover of Woman's Day magazine featuring a trio of darling green-eyed, autumn hued kittens via cloth98 on Flickr.}

 

November is a sweet month in many ways (so hence the kitty cat filled image above). Though it can be a busy one, it spares us the last minute rush of December, allowing us instead to begin planning for the holiday season and savouring its first signs, without the frazzled days of office parties, last minute shopping, and gigantically large meals to cook.

For many November’s return means the first nights of frost and the first snowfalls of the year since early last spring. The hours of daily light are dwindling, but that marvelous sense (which my especially husband adores) of wanting to snuggle up inside and brace yourself against the biting cold outside is just beginning to hit its stride.

I'm really looking forward to celebrating the remaining two months of 2011 with all of you, as we wind down the final sixty-one instalments of this year's Vintage 365 project, sweet dears.

Whether you feel like today is eons to soon to start thinking about the winter holidays or are already swapping your Halloween decorations for Christmas ones, I wish you all a beautiful, serene, cozy November and countdown to Christmas!