Wednesday, January 12, 2011

The Addams Family Goes On A Sleigh Ride

We experienced our biggest snowfall of the season yesterday evening, just in time for rush hour. As I sat completely stopped in traffic on the expressway, stuck in the snow for an hour and 15 minutes, I looked through a box of old photographs and postcards I'd found at the local antique mall on my lunch hour earlier in the day. I thought, well, this is rather unpleasant, but it could be worse: at least I'm not stuck in a sleigh behind a taxidermied deer with these people:

Early 1900s studio portrait with prop sleigh and taxidermy deer.
(Click to enlarge)


I really try not to be judgmental, but this antique photograph broke my resolve. These people remind me of the Addams Family. Especially the giant guy on the far right with the Frankenstein shoulderpads and the stunned expression. He could easily be Lurch's cousin, while the equally tall man second from left has the largest chin I've ever seen outside of a Dick Tracy comic. And the two men in the back just have something...unsettling...about their expressions. The one on the left in particular looks like he has some dark secret, doesn't he? The two ladies squashed in the middle of the sleigh remind me of the siamese twin sisters who once dated Gomez, before he married Morticia. 

(Actually, the more I look at this odd photo, the more I wonder if the ladies are, in fact, siamese twins; the big guy on the right and the man with the huge chin are, in fact, giants; and these might be circus performers???)


Thursday, January 6, 2011

1930s Playskool Pullman

About 25 years ago, when I first started collecting teddy bears, I saw an interesting antique toy mentioned in one of my reference books. In a chapter of hints for displaying miniature bears, the author had posed several tiny teddies in an old tin playset called the Playskool Pullman.

I had never heard of this toy, and I was immediately captivated. The tin Pullman car looked like a miniature suitcase from the outside, and measured 11 1/2 by 9 1/2 inches. A leather carrying handle allowed the owner to easily tote the Pullman along, perhaps on a real train trip. When opened, a miniature train car interior was revealed, complete with a porter's closet, fold-up berth with bedding, and a seating area of benches with a fold-down table. I was absolutely smitten: it was an amazing toy.

It also turned out to be an extremely rare toy. Designed by a preschool teacher in the late 1920s and made around 1930, the Playskool Pullman was reportedly only manufactured for a very brief time, perhaps only a year, before the Great Depression put a stop to the toy's production. For years and years, the Pullman eluded me. With the arrival of internet auctions, I finally saw a few, but the prices were high and the competition was fierce, due to the toy's rarity and crossover appeal to lots of different toy collectors: dollhouse lovers, toy train aficianados, tin toy fantatics, Playskool collectors. But finally, last year, I found one. The good news: it was cheap. The bad news: it looked like it had been sitting in a barn and slowly decomposing for the past 80 years. I bought it anyway, on the assumption that my mom could fix it. She did, and here it is:

Big Bear is running to catch the train, but it looks like he's too late.

Inside, the private compartment is home to 
three little Steiff bears.

The porter's closet on the left was originally intended to hold the mattresses and bedding, but most Pullman owners convert it into a bathroom, as I did with these antique German dollhouse pieces.

The top berth pulls down, revealing a cozy bed complete with 
sheets, blankets, and pillows. 

The littlest bear is tucked in for the night, 
falling asleep to the sound of the train clacking down the tracks.

For comparison, here's what the Pullman looked like when we got it:


Wednesday, January 5, 2011

1907 Laughing Roosevelt Teddy Bear

After literally 20 years of searching, I have finally gotten one of the antique teddy bears that has long topped my wish list: the Laughing Roosevelt Bear made by Columbia of New York in 1907. This very rare novelty bear features a unique split wooden mouth with milk glass teeth. When his stomach is squeezed, his mouth opens, baring his teeth in a big grin.



 President Roosevelt was known for his wide, toothy grin, which he flashed defiantly at any obstacle or opposition. The original ad for the Laughing Roosevelt Bear reads: "Roosevelt Laughs and Shows His Teeth at his critics. So does the COLUMBIA made Teddy Bear...The Laughing Teddy Bear Laughs and Shows his Teeth at tight money, hard times and pessimists. He is the most Brilliant Stuffed Animal Success of Modern Times."


I've accessorized my Laughing Roosevelt Bear with a vintage patriotic ribbon, badge, straw hat, and a pipe (an antique Cracker Jack prize), which give him the look of a conventioneering politician. He's reading a book of jokes and riddles (another antique Cracker Jack prize), looking for a good one to use in his speech to the delegates.


Monday, January 3, 2011

Antique Photo: Tea Party with Mother (and Dollies)

I'm constantly on the lookout for old photos of children with toys, and it's always exciting to discover another one. I found this one last week in a box of rather forlorn scrapbook pages at an antique mall. Two sisters have been invited into mother's parlor for a little tea party, and they've brought their dollies:


The photo looks to be from the late 19teens to the early '20s, and has lots of interesting details: the mother's vintage dress and shoes, the girls' giant hair bows, the Arts & Crafts/Mission style furniture, the silver tea set, and, in the lower right corner, a miniature baby carriage full of dolls. Plus, if you look closely under the table, you'll see a crate that was set on end for the littlest girl's feet!

Saturday, December 25, 2010

What Was In Tracy's Stocking?

Stocking stuffers are one of my very favorite Christmas traditions. The sight of a Christmas stocking bulging with mysterious small objects just makes my heart go pitter-patter. As miniature collectors know, very great things indeed can come in small packages, and this year Santa outdid himself.


My stocking held a couple of vintage 1940s MinToy dollhouse miniatures in their original packaging (a set of kitchen knives and a box of silverware); old dollhouse cakes; a 1920s-'30s Austrian-made celluloid dolly in a peanut; part of an antique miniature German teaset; a 1920s-'30s Old Maid card game; and a huge assortment of 1920s and '30s joke boxes. If you were reading the blog back on last April Fool's Day, you'll know that I have a passion for vintage pranks and jokes. I'm going to wait until this April to post the joke boxes properly, but here's everything else:

MinToy was a Chicago based manufacturer of dollhouse miniatures in the 1940s-'50s. Their motto was "The Big House of Little Things," and they made very nice things indeed. This carded set of kitchen utensils measures  4 1/2 inches, while the itty bitty box of silverware is just 2 1/8  inches.


Little dollies in peanut shaped molded cardboard containers were a mini-fad in the 1920s and '30s. This Austrian-made version features a celluloid doll with her original glass baby bottle. The peanut is 4 inches long.


This partial German dolly's tea set just delighted me. I love the colorful stripes, reminiscent of a circus tent. Circa the early 1900s-'20s, the teacups are 1 inch in diameter.


This Old Maid card game dates from the 1920s-'30s. It features fantastic caricature art: click on the photo to see the cards in more detail.


Lastly, a lot of wonderful old dollhouse cakes, dating between 1920-1960. Why all these dollhouse cakes? Because my biggest gift this year was an 1890s German dollhouse pastry shop or confectioner's. It needs a complete restoration, and then these cakes will fill its empty shelves...pictures to follow once it's all done!