A Bare Bear

I adore old teddy bears, the older and more worn, the better. A much loved bear silently speaks volumes about its long life. I feel very strongly that bears who have performed so many faithful years of companionable service deserve a comfortable retirement.

My latest such bear is this little 8 inch ted, circa the 1930s. She has lost every single strand of her mohair to moths, except for a very endearing little patch at the top of her head. Her nose and mouth have long since been kissed away, but her tiny glass eyes are, amazingly, still intact. She is without doubt one of the most worn bears I've ever purchased, but I think she is also one of the most characterful.

"Please take me home and give me some clothes," 

she seems to be saying.

The bear as found, bare and forlorn.

See? No mohair, nowhere.

After rummaging through a box of doll clothes assembled for just such emergencies, I outfitted the bear in a vintage polka dotted dress and added a pink ribbon. 

Stylin'.

Ta-da! Here she is in her lovely 1950s tin toy kitchen. If she could still smile, you would see that she is very happy.