The Looks You Love

And an example of the pad in use...

Something that happened exactly once—all pages other than this being blank. Pretty reflective of the fate of countless once-intended projects that can only end up banished to thrift shop purgatory.

Nufashond

I have to admit it took a while to catch on to how this is meant to be pronounced. It sure seemed it would sound like Yiddish, as would easily befit a garment-related product. What also threw me: the item was for finishing fashion no longer nu—

Impressive quality, from back whenever this was produced.

I don't know what this was called, or whether it's in the list of pleasing products ("edgetrim"?)

In any case, the trim is a crocheted effect done in cotton thread.

Be sure to send in your 10¢—

It would be interesting to find a copy. I'm guessing 1920s for the bag style.

I do see a full page Nufashond ad in a 1921 volume of a trade journal, Dry Goods Economist. The ad cites the "Knot Work" and other instruction books, along with touting such products as corset lacer ("the tip will not come off, neither will it rust nor tear the dainty undervest, for it's the Nufashond self-color fabric tip)"; "Shoulder Strapping... simple in design and attractive when seen through the transparent blouse"; "shoe lacers... in that self-color fabric tip which you can tuck into your shoe top without endangering your fine hose." An effective convenience? It's hard to see how women had time for things other than lacing up shoes.

It's a shame not to have examples of the knot work. Rick rack projects seem to have been big, with instructions available for the same price. Evidently, there was an ongoing series, and scans of two volumes are generously provided here (from 1916) and here (1933).

Interesting, odd stuff, considering that I never would have imagined using rick rack as a basis for lace projects. True, I can't imagine ever wanting to do any kind of lace project, myself, but they may well appeal to others. And as is the case with any fashion: wait long enough and what's old could again be Nu.

(Communal) House Cleaning

The community craft room was just given a drastic weed-out of orphaned items. No exertion from me; I only answered the call to take anything of interest before the rest was carted away.

And so, got a nice haul of vintage mother-of-pearl—

I took a few other sewing notions of use; otherwise, just brought away pictures of the more notable stuff.

Unfortunately damaged beyond taking: a German-made needle packet from the era of this kind of travel—

Have never heard of these, and I would guess this pack was kept for sewing—

Product was US-made, too. The packaging might be as recent as the 1980s—

Surely a useful item for the lady voter—

That's William Hanes Ayres, who held office 1951-71.

Ayres was elected as a Republican to the Eighty-second and to the nine succeeding Congresses. Ayres was well regarded by House members of both parties. He usually did not list his party affiliation on his campaign literature instead listing himself as "Your Congressman."

Did he simply choose to be a non-partisan public servant? If so, it's startling to realize that option once would have been possible.

"14 years" makes this 1965, and these matchbook kits still were made as advertising giveaways. (A post about kits and their history here.)

Other giveaways included quite a few mystery gadgets. Kind of a sad display representing an unknown number of years' worth of projects abandoned (or never quite started).

This was the most noteworthy of numerous odd gadgets—

Styles reflecting the 1938 origin, to be sure—

This is only half of the directions—

"READ... CAREFULLY!" indeed, when what's required involves so much getting thread through holes and woven around other thread.

Understandably, the would-be lacemaker didn't get far. But this is enough to give an idea of the pattern that was intended—

The set is for what I've learned is Tenerife lace, made by creating and joining wheel motifs. I'm not completely anti-lace, though I'd never be ambitious enough to try making it. But there's something about these particular designs that's oddly unsettling. Perhaps it's due to childhood memories of cartoons where this often was about to happen—

Though it seems like what's in my subconscious is some older, scarier (Max Fleischeresque?) version.

Depth psychology aside, here's a link to a better scan of Polka Spider instructions.

Assorted Stuff

Hey, I remember these...

Transparent strips under the protective paper covers

Once held a plastic rain bonnet—

Another anti-rain measure from back in the day—

Who knew raincoats could send wishes?

Found this a couple years ago, but my mother had an identical one—

When I grew up there were always these kind of giveaways around the house.

As familiar as this is, though, I hadn't noticed until now that the foil paper is a type also used for origami.

As with other origami papers, traditional motifs come from textile designs. Spider web pattern above; hemp leaf here—

The second is inside this find of J's—