sewing machine.

There's nothing more conflicting than a great estate sale.

On the one hand, I'm deliciously happy--excited about what I'm might find. On the other, I'm deeply saddened because (usually) someone's passing is the reason for the event.

Take, for example, the most recent estate sale I attended where I came into possession of this
1950s Singer Sewing Machine for exactly $3. (Yes, you read it correctly: $3.) I knew in my heart of hearts that, surely, it was worth more. But the women in charge of the event were determined to be rid of their mother's clunky item. "Take it!" they assured me. "It works!" (As if the machine's functionality was the sole reason for my hesitation.)

And so I lugged it home, only to find when I arrived and typed "185J" into Google, that the actual value of this avocado beauty is somewhere in the realm of $500.

Be still my guilty conscience!

I just hope its previous owner knows I will give it a good home!


french. vintage.

Sometimes, when I'm feeling stale and looking for inspiration, I'll enter "French" and "Vintage" into Etsy's search box. Let's see what turns up today, shall we, ma cherie?

I would wear this 1950s French ladies dress from Revival House to a French garden tea party.

I would stroll through the streets of Dijon with this French-made pocketbook from Persephone Vintage on my arm.

Je t'amie this French Vintage Coffee Grinder from Tent Pitcher.

And, finally, these French Canisters from Lionfish53 look like something Julia Child would have in her French Country kitchen.

So very vintage. So very French.


road trip.

Do you ever feel the need to get away from it all?

...Favorite book about road trips:
On the Road (of course!), by Jack Kerouac.

...Favorite song about road trips: "Fast Car," by Tracy Chapman.

...Favorite road trip photographer:
Jen Zahigian.

Escape with me...


vintage book club.

You've heard of Ruth Reichl and Gael Greene, but what about M.F.K. Fisher, mon ami?

The Gastronomical Me (1943) chronicles her culinary awakening, which occurred when she moved with her first husband to Dijon, France. Fisher writes about love, learning, loss...all while feasting on trauite au bleu, peach pie, bouillabaisse, and, oh yes, her very first oyster. It's chick lit--if chick lit were wonderfully smart, feminist, and, of course, vintage. As someone who makes a living writing about food, I'm truly inspired by her ability to draw so much meaning and substance from that which sustains us.

Exquisite, passionate, poignant, heartbreaking, clever...and yet, still, a quick read. Dig in, and you'll be on the next flight to France, I guarantee.