1916 Hoosier Cabinet

I have a thing for Hoosier cabinets, somewhat strangely I suppose, since I don't cook or spend any time in my kitchen (it's used for displaying my PEZ collection). These cabinets, loaded with specialized compartments for groceries and utensils, were a mainstay in American kitchens from the 1900s through the '40s, and were repurposed as storage units in garages and basements for decades after.

They have appeal to collectors of Americana, and many people remember them fondly from visits to their grandmothers. The cabinets can be things of great beauty, but after years of neglect are often found in this condition:

 My mother and I discovered this Hoosier in an alley behind a Salvation Army store, where it had sat all night in a torrential rain storm.  As apparent in the above photo, it had been badly overpainted many times, and was totally waterlogged. But it still had its original etched glass doors and most of its hardware, and I could tell it was old. We felt it didn't deserve such a miserable end after almost a century of faithful service, and we determined to save it. It took a year of sanding, sanding, endless sanding, but finally it was finished last week. When we cleaned the latches, we found a patent date of 1916, which enabled us to identify the cabinet.

Here it is now, restored to its original golden oak finish:

I use it for storing my vintage board game and puzzle collection, which I imagine the cabinet is really enjoying after all those years of holding greasy tools (we think someone had it in their garage for a long time, after its kitchen duty ended).

The silverware drawer is perfect for small puzzles:

Hoosier cabinets are really fascinating things, and you can learn more about them in a great new book that just came out last year: The Hoosier Cabinet in Kitchen History, by Nancy Hiller.

Miniature Pressed Tin Tea Set

Although I don't like tea, I am strangely obsessed with tiny tea sets. Children's, doll's, or dollhouse sized, I collect them all. My latest find was this pressed tin set, made as a doll accessory in the late 1800s/early 1900s, probably in England. The tray is 4 3/4 inches long, the teapot is 2 1/2 inches tall, and the cups are an inch in diameter, not counting the handles. These pictures really don't do it justice; it's an incredibly beautiful, fragile little thing.

Below, my 10 inch German bisque doll has added it to her china cupboard (made long ago from an antique clock case):

Antique Photo of Crazy-Eyed Baby

Some of the "Other Stuff" that I collect are antique photos of children with toys, a natural extension of my antique toy collecting, and an accessory line common to many toy collectors.

Today I found an old picture of a baby, and, even though it's toyless, I had to have it. It's the coolest Victorian baby photo I've ever come across. The baby, dressed in an immaculate white dress, bonnet, and cape, resting on a bearskin rug, has a stunned expression that I interpret as "Oh my goodness: I just crapped my pants!" (At least, that's what I remember this look signifying, back in my baby-sitting days...)

Back-to-School with the Fisher Price Safety School Bus

It's September, so I thought we ought to take a little trip back-to-school with one of the classic theme-related toys made by Fisher Price: the Safety School Bus.

The first version of the bus came out in 1959, measured 14 inches long, was made of wood with a transparent plastic roof, and originally included 6 passengers. (More on the passengers in a minute: they're very important!)

 The roof has a removeable wooden piece that allows access to the bus interior, where the passengers nestle in holes cut in front of their seats. This holds them securely in place as the bus is pulled. Can't have kids falling over all willy-nilly as you're going down the road...

The front of the bus features headlight "eyes" and a friendly driver, along with a moveable stop sign that can be flipped out and tucked back (the "safety" component of the Safety School Bus). The headlight eyes and the driver turn back and forth as the bus is pulled.

That is, amazingly, the original pull string.

The back end of the bus holds 2 naughty children who spin and bounce wildly as the vehicle is pulled, a touch of realism that I remember vividly from my own school days. (I myself always sat up in front with the nerdy good kids...)

 
And speaking of those kids: what makes the Safety School Bus such an historically significant toy is its inclusion of the first iteration of what would eventually become the famous Fisher Price Play Family Little People. These 6 simple peg people evolved over the years to become the "green dad," "blue mom," and their children, familiar to any of us who grew up in the 1970s. In their earliest form, these Fisher Price "little people" measured 2 - 3 inches tall, with plastic collars and hats and wooden bodies covered with lithographed paper. This paper invariably peeled, and the concept was quickly abandoned in favor of painted bodies, which makes people with their paper extremely difficult to come by, and priced accordingly.

The third child from the left has the "crabby" face which was retained on some Little People boys all the way into the 1980s. My favorite, though, is the one on the far right, with the comically ginormous head.

In 1962, Fisher Price released a redesigned bus (no transparent roof or removeable insert) with restyled "little people", who now had painted bodies and some interesting shapes. (In between this and the original bus, there had also been an unpopular version, with stationary, printed eyes on the front end.)

"Yeah, I'm lookin' at you, kid..."

There's the infamous "crabby boy" again, and observant readers will note the similarities to the FP Nifty Station Wagon family, who debuted in 1960.

To learn more about the development of Fisher Price's Little People, check out This Old Toy's great history page.

Happy September everyone!

Antique Dollhouse Doll

I'm always happy to add another antique dollhouse doll to my collection. They're rather addictive, and their diminutive size makes them easily (though not cheaply!) collectible. My latest find was this 5 inch tall china head, wearing her original, and very lovely, Turkey Red embroidered dress. The tiny German-made doll dates from the late 1800s.

Her simple face painting still manages to convey a gentle, bemused expression, and her rosy cheeks make her look as if she's blushing. What is she thinking about, I wonder?

Here she is in front of her new home, a circa 1900 lithographed paper dollhouse:

She loves to cook, but she should really have an apron on over that beautiful dress!