West German Mr. Potato Head Sets

I recently acquired several vintage 1950s-60s West German and English Mr. Potato Head sets. Some are knock-offs, some were licensed by Hasbro, but they're all fascinatingly different from their American counterparts.

First up: three 1950s knock-off sets made in West Germany. They are all housed in flat cardboard boxes, the same size and shape as those a paper doll set would come in, or a tiddlywinks game. They were released at the time Mr. Potato Head still used real potatoes; the toy sets were comprised solely of accessory and limb parts, and it would be several years before the plastic potato was introduced.

"Mr. and Mrs. Funny Face" features intriguing illustrations of some rather sinister looking potatoes.

Inside, the parts are inserted into holes in the liner, and an illustration of an anxious-looking potato head with a Salvador Dali mustache serves as an example of a completed toy.

If Dali were a potato...

The next West German set features marvelous illustrations of fruit and veggie people on the cover.

The caption reads:

"MANY AMUSING CHARACTERS CAN BE MADE UP WITH THE AID OF

FRUIT OR VEGETABLES."

The interior is similar to that of the previous set:

Kinda creepy Mrs. Potato Head, no?

The last German set is more colorful and friendly seeming,

with bright colors and a happier looking Mr. P-Head.

Inside the "Mr. and Mrs. Funny Face" box.

This one's a jolly potato head, with a prominent pipe.

Coming up tomorrow: a licensed Mr. Potato Head made in England in the 1970s.

Playtown

I've posted about the line of Playtown toys before, but I recently found some more items. This line of miniature shops and accessories was made by the Playtown Products Co. of New York from the late 1940s-1950s. Sets in the range included a bakery, general store, grocery, supermarket, luncheonette, and meat market. Each little shop averaged about 7 inches tall, just the right size for dollhouse dolls of the time. Besides the shops themselves, Playtown also sold accessory packs of goodies to stock the shelves. Here are three: one for the bakery, one for the butcher shop, and one for a dollhouse. Each little card is about 4 5/8 inches long, and the tiny items are made of painted plaster.

A braided bread loaf, cake, and donuts in the bakery package.

Hot dogs, a roast chicken, and a steak in the butcher shop.

Jello, cabbage, and eggs in the dollhouse kitchen set.

Here's the complete Playtown Meat Market, with a couple of Flagg dollhouse dolls doing their shopping:

Vintage Space Lady

From the same toy dealer who found last month's vintage space lady, here's another one! The four inch tall figure is from the 1950s, and would have been sold in the dime stores of the day. She has a slot in her hand which probably originally held a ray gun, and features lovely silver gilt trim. She appears to march confidently into the future.

Liddle Kiddle Kologne Doll

Found at a recent toy show, this Kiddle Kologne doll is so sweet! Made by Mattel between 1968-1970, it's from a whole line of scented mini dolls housed in plastic cologne bottles. The wee little vinyl doll is just 2 inches tall, while her bottle home measures a roomy 5 inches. This particular variety is Lily of the Valley, and while this isn't her correct bottle (there were different color combinations), she was still a steal at just a couple of bucks. Learn more about the Kiddle Kolognes (and some of their friends and relations) here.

 Lily in her bottle...

...and out of her bottle.

Back of the bottle, marked "Kiddle Kologne".

1950s German Kitchen Playset

I found this 1950s-early '60s kitchen playset at a recent toy show. Made in Western Germany by Fuchs, the 16 inch wide kitchen features fabulous mid-century design elements, including a very fashionable salmon pink and turquoise blue color palette.

One of my favorite features is the printed-on window, which reveals a scene of a father arriving home from work, his vintage automobile parked just outside the gate.

The cupboard doors above the stove slide open, revealing tiny canisters filled with printed paper food. The little drawers under the cupboard slide open, too.

The copper mold forms, found in German toy kitchens all the way back to the 1700s, are in this case printed onto the wall above the counter.

An assortment of real miniature molds cover the countertop. These could actually be used to make such things as little chocolates or gelatins. A teeny tiny mezzaluna lies beneath the molds, useful for chopping herbs.

A basket of miniature flatware, each piece stamped "Germany", rests on the counter. They are quite delicate, and amazingly in perfect condition.










The stove top hosts the most adorable set of miniature cookware I've ever seen: pots and pans decorated with images of tiny toys.

The kitchen set was a great find: such playsets by this maker are highly sought items. But the price made it a fantastic find: only $25! I was hopping up and down with glee once I spotted the price tag. Typically kitchens like this sell in the $100+ range. Some of the accessories alone (the silverware tray, the mezzaluna) sell for more than $25 apiece from dollhouse and miniature dealers. It was the best bargain of the whole toy show!

Antique Travel Dollhouse

I received one of my most unusual dollhouses as a Christmas gift this past year. American made and dating from the 1890s to early 1900s, the 17 inch long house features detailed decoration lithographed directly onto the wooden surface. It appears to have been made as a travelling dollhouse, as the pieces disassemble and pack neatly inside for storage and transport. I've never seen anything quite like it, and can't find anything similar in any of my dollhouse books. The house has a lot of play wear, but it was so unique, I couldn't pass it up.

Here's how it looks all packed up:











One long side slides off to reveal the contents inside:

Two little china dolls have lived in this house for a very long time, along with a tiny bisque man. (Clearly, correct scale did not matter to the child who originally owned this house!)

Here are all the parts unpacked:

 The pieces all stack onto the box base to build a Victorian mansion, complete with a tower and porch:

One of the house's most interesting
features is the garage
on the left side,
complete with its
own sliding door: 

The now faded and worn lithographed detail is still wonderful, including curtained windows (some with tiny people peering out) and tiles on the roof:

 

The house is lithographed inside as well, with pictures, windows, and Victorian bric a brac:

I added some old furniture, and now the little dolls have somewhere to sit: 

The little man fits perfectly on the front porch,

where he seems to welcome us to his house.

1930s German Doll Kitchen

An antique German doll kitchen had long been on my wish list, and this past Christmas, Santa did not disappoint! This 1930s example came complete with its original floor covering, wallpapers, and furnishings. I added some accessories and a dolly cook. Measuring a hefty 27 inches wide by 11 inches high, the scale is larger than dollhouse, sized more for actual doll play. The kitchen is a delightful combination of classic Dutch kitchen decor and 1930s Art Deco styling.

The kitchen cabinet has wonderful Deco curves, a paper "linoleum" counter top, drawers that open, and real glass sliding doors.

The wonderful dry sink swivels into the counter, out of the way: 

The little blue and white stove is adorable, and the door opens. I added the china plates to cover the burner holes; they are much older, circa the mid 1800s, but fit perfectly. 

One of my most loved accessories is now in the kitchen: this tiny (1/2 inch tall) Royal Worcester pudding bowl, made in England in the mid 1800s. The piece is so very small and fragile, it's amazing to me that it survived. 

My china doll seemed to be the perfect match for this kitchen, in her color coordinated dress. She's looking forward to trying out the pudding bowl.

The doll kitchen is a very old and traditional German Christmas gift, dating all the way back to the 1700s.  In her wonderful book, Doll Kitchens, author Eva Stille explains that doll kitchens would be brought down from the attic each Christmastime by parents who would freshen them up with more grocery supplies, a new pie plate or two, and a bright new coat of paint. All winter, the kitchens would entertain the family's children, until with the warming spring weather, the toys, now depleted of provisions, temporarily lost their interest. They would be packed back up and returned to the attic as the children moved their play outdoors, only to be brought back down once more, restocked, and placed under the tree again the next Christmas.

The toys were usually passed down through several generations. Stille gives an example of an 1885 doll kitchen ordered by a wealthy family in Bregenz. The toy was passed down among girls in the family all the way to 1979, when it was bequeathed to the most recent descendant, who was still playing with it at the time of the book's publication in 1988!

I feel very fortunate to have finally received my own doll kitchen for Christmas. 

Antique Paper Dolls

I see old, tatty stationery boxes all the time while antiquing, and I've discovered they're always worth opening, as sometimes there is something fabulous stored inside them. They were just natural places for children to stash their treasured possessions. Once, I found such a box contained a vintage 1960s troll and her extensive wardrobe. This time, the stationery box was even older (1920s) and quite dirty. Really, it was just filthy, and almost too much for even me to touch...

...but I did, and was I ever glad! Inside...treasures! Three antique paper dolls, complete with outfits, hats, accessories, and even some original pattern pieces.

Wheeeee!!!!

The dolls were made by Dennison, a manufacturer primarily of paper party goods, decorations, and supplies. The jointed dolls are made from heavy card stock, and most of the clothes are of crepe paper, which Dennison used for many of its holiday decorations.
Some of the crepe paper clothes came printed with clothing designs, but other items looked as if they were cut and assembled by the child owner. The discovery of some hat pattern pieces in the bottom of the box confirmed this suspicion, and the patterns also gave the names of the dolls: Eleanor (the big sister), Betty, and Bobbie, the little brother.

From left to right: Eleanor, 10 inches; Betty, 8; and Bobbie, 7.

The dolls are marked "Dennison U.S.A." on the back.

 The hat patterns.

The hat patterns unfolded.

Here's Eleanor's wardrobe:

Eleanor in a pre-printed hat and coat.

 I love this flapper headdress!

 Eleanor in a child-made dress and hat.


Here's Betty's wardrobe:

Betty in a pink dress like her big sister's.

 My favorite outfit, made of fragile crepe.

Bobbie's wardrobe was not as extensive as those of his sisters, but he had a few interesting pieces, including a pirate costume and a bathing suit. 

Bobbie in his ruffly green suit.

Bobbie in his Halloween pirate costume. Arrgh!

When I packed the dollies back into their box, I noticed some writing on the cover. After some gentle brushing away of dust, the words became clearer:

"Margaret Johnston   

321 E. Liberty St."

It was very moving to consider these words, and try to picture the little girl who wrote them, and who loved these paper dolls so much, she saved them for almost 90 years...thank you Margaret Johnston!