Showing posts with label Vintage Thingie Thursday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vintage Thingie Thursday. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

The Pyramid Supper Club

I caught the tail end of a documentary on PBS last weekend about Wisconsin Supper Clubs.  What's a supper club, you ask?  I think the folks in the trailer for the film (below) probably explain it best, but according to Wikipedia:

A supper club, in general, refers to a dining establishment that also functions as a social club...Supper club in United States is an American dining establishment generally found in the Upper Midwestern states of Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Michigan.  These establishments typically are located on the edge of town in rural areas.  They were traditionally thought of as a "destination" where patrons would go to spend the whole evening, from cocktail hour to enjoying night club style entertainment after dinner.  They feature a casual and relaxed atmosphere.

So it's a restaurant, but more.


Here in this area, we had the Pyramid Supper Club.  Established in the early 1960s, it featured an Egyptian theme, right down to its pyramid-shaped architecture and interior decorations in Egyptian motifs.


The above postcard is from our family collection.  The woman at the front table is my mother (the man next to her, according to my dad, was a salesman recruited for the shot).

(Image Source)
Americans were becoming fascinated with all things Egyptian at that time, in part due to the Tutankhamun Treasures exhibit that had begun touring museums and galleries across the country in 1961.  The 1963 movie, Cleopatra, starring Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, undoubtedly added to the fervor.

So a pyramid-themed supper club in the middle of a cornfield in Wisconsin?  Hey, why not.  It was indeed a very successful establishment while under its original ownership and management for several decades.  

My mother worked at the Pyramid from its early days, first as a waitress and later a bartender and hostess.  (I also worked there briefly in the late '70s as a coat check).  Here are some of the uniforms my mom wore through the years.  

Hemlines were going up (as were the hairdos) during this period in history, and these uniforms tell the tale!

My mom helped design and sew several of the uniforms for herself and other waitresses.  I particularly remember the unique fitted number with the pleated skirt and shoulder scarf.  She had to order several bolts of white polyester double-knit and yards upon yards of teal and gold ribbon trim.  We had quite the flurry of activity at our house for several weeks that year, waitresses coming and going through her sewing room door to be measured and fitted.  It was all quite entertaining!

And here is one of the first miniature menus.  This one is dated 1962.  Check out those prices!

I hope to watch the Wisconsin Supper Clubs movie in its entirety at some point.  Since the Pyramid had already closed, it wasn't part of the film but is mentioned on the film's website.  I am happy to have fond memories of the place and its fine people, and an appreciation for the role it played in both the local economy and our family's.




I'll be linking to Vintage Thingie Thursday at Colorado Lady. Click to visit for more fun and fascination from time gone by!

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Quilt Making in Grandma's Time - Hand Carded Cotton Quilt Batting

I am trying to uncover the mystery of two quilts that were among my mother's things when she passed away.  I am pretty sure at least one of them, a basket quilt, was made by my grandmother, my mom's mother, Lillian.  The maker of the other, a Colonial Lady quilt, is less certain.  It's possible it was made by my great-grandmother, who was known for her fine stitching.  I have asked my aunt and cousins for their help in identifying it and am waiting to hear back from them.

Basket quilt, believed to be made by my grandmother Lillian.
In the meantime, I went back and re-read the transcript of a conversation my aunt had with my grandmother in 1983, when Grandma was 78 years old.  My aunt recorded several conversations with my grandmother, who lived her whole life in Louisiana (1905-1991).  I am so glad my aunt taped those conversations, especially since we lived so far away (I grew up in Wisconsin) and could only visit every couple of years.  

My Grandpa Nathan and Grandma Lillian,
holding my sister, in 1959.
Among other things, Grandma talked about how she started quilting.  These are her words, in her own vernacular:

"My mother taught me how to piece quilts when I was about 15 years old.  I started learning how to piece quilts.  And when I got engaged, I really got on the ball.  I'd go do field work all the morning, and when I come in, instead of resting at dinnertime, I'd be piecing on my quilts.  I used a machine because it was faster, and when I got my tops pieced, me and my mother sat up at night and quilted by a little old brass lamp that didn't have no globe on it.  We just set it between us and we quilted till it got bedtime.  And when I got married, I had five quilts that I had pieced myself.  But they was just nine-patches and just string quilts.  My  mother didn't do any fancy quilting.  She just made quilts to keep you warm.  I didn't learn how to do that till after I got married and later years."

Five quilts might not sound like a lot in these days of machine quilting, online fabric stores, precuts, and a multitude of ready-made batting options.  But when you're making your own quilt batting literally from scratch (i.e., picking and carding the cotton for it), bleaching feed sacks for backing, and hand quilting by lantern light after a long, hot, hard day's work, producing a finished quilt takes on a whole different meaning.

Cotton (or wool) carders, used by my grandmother 
and great-grandmother to make quilt batting.
 
My mother wrote a narrative to supplement my grandma's stories, for which I am equally grateful.  Here is more from my grandmother (in blue) along with  my mother's explanation (in red) on the subject of growing and carding cotton for quilt batting:

Cotton carders were made of wood, 4" x 9", with a wooden handle inset in the center of the long side.  Each card had an inner lining of steel wire pins about 1/2 inch long, closely spaced.  These cards were used in sets, one for each hand.  Tufts of cotton were placed on one of the cards and the other was used to brush across the cotton, stretching and separating the fibers until a bat, 4" x 9" x 1/2" was formed.  

When enough had been made to fill a quilt, they were laid out in rows onto the stretched lining of the quilt.  The quilt top was then laid out on the top, tacked in place, and the quilting began.  Every homemaker had to make enough quilts to keep the family warm during cold weather because [in Louisiana] the homes weren't heated at night.

"I set up many a night and carded bats.  Me and my mother-in-law.  And we took three straight chairs—we'd card 'em, packin' down to the top of the chair for one quilt.  That's lots of bats.  And we scrapped up the cotton in the field after the cotton pickin' was over.  And there'd be a lock here and a lock there, and maybe you'd get a whole burr, once in a while, of cotton.  And then we'd have it ginned, and that's what we made our bats out of."
Most farmers at that time planted at least one field of cotton.  It was a "cash" crop that was picked, ginned, and made into bales to be sold.  If the land was needed some years for growing other crops, the farmer would only raise a small patch of cotton, just enough to provide the cotton needed by his own family to make new mattresses or batting for quilts.  Cotton stalks grow to about four or five feet in height.  The boles that form after the plants bloom are shaped similar to a green hickory nut with the outer shell formed in segments.  The sun matures these boles until they pop open, revealing a tuft of snow-white cotton in each segment.  

All cotton was picked by hand.  Each picker had a long canvas sack that hung from the shoulder by a strap to put the cotton in as it was picked.  This cotton sack was up to six feet long and was dragged along between cotton rows as the cotton was picked.  Hired pickers were paid by the number of pounds of cotton picked in a day.  When the cotton was at its prime for harvest, all men, women, and children went to the field to help get the crop in before the weather turned bad and ruined the crop.  It was extremely hot, backbreaking work.  The dried shells, or boles, have very sharp points and would rip into the fingers of anyone who wasn't careful to use the right technique to grab the cotton from the open boles.  
"And we had to pick cotton.  Papa'd usually have to hire some of the neighbors to pick cotton.  We'd pick cotton, and Papa'd get a wagon full of cotton and have it tromped down with a top bed on it.  He'd carry it to the gin.  [My sister] and I never'd seen a cotton gin, so one time he told us we could go with him to the gin.  That was up at Dodson.  And we left home about 4:00 or 4:30, way 'fore daylight.  And it was cold.  And we's ridin' on top of that wagon of cotton.  We spread a quilt up there so we could wrap up in it, to keep from gettin' so cold.  Papa was drivin', so we got a way on over there and Papa was so cold, well, he let me drive.  And he got down and walked to get warm."
"I guess I must've been about eight or ten year old (c. 1913 to 1915).  And the man, when we got over there, he carried us all through the gin and showed us how it was sucked off the wagon with a big round pipe-like deal.  And the man held it over the wagon and it just sucked it up into that gin, and he carried us around there where it come out, and it was so pretty and white.  And then he showed us how it went on through, made bales."
Some of the boles didn't open in time for the main picking but would open later as they matured.  These freshly opened boles and tufts of cotton left after the first picking provided enough cotton to make batting for several quilts if the field was "scrapped" (picked over).  That is the way Grandma Lillian and Great-grandma Lela usually got the cotton for making quilt bats.  All cotton had to be "ginned" (taken to a cotton gin where machinery was used to remove the seeds).  Then it was used for mattresses or quilt batting.

"And that's the way I got my first mattress that I ever had, 'fore I married.  My daddy had a cotton field, and when they got through pickin' cotton, I scrapped over the cotton patch after it all got open, and I got enough cotton to make me a mattress.  And my daddy took it to have it ginned, and my  mother and I made the bed.  That's the way people used to make their beds.  They didn't go to town and buy 'em.  I got several beds right now that I—it's been homemade beds.  But now they want hard, firm beds, but back then they didn't."
 
Grandma went on to talk more about quilting, and maybe I'll continue her stories another time.  When (if) the mystery of the other quilt is solved, I'll post more on that too.

I hope you enjoyed hearing a little about quilt making in my grandmother's time.  Our lives are so very different now, but the love of quilting is a common thread that binds past generations with the present. 

For a look at the technique of hand carding cotton, see this video on YouTube. (This woman rolls her carded cotton into a puni for spinning, whereas Grandma would have left the cotton bats flat, so everything after about the one minute thirty second mark would not apply to carding cotton for quilt batting.)

And be sure to visit Colorado Lady for more vintage sharing!


Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Modeling the Machinery

I haven't done a Vintage Thingie Thursday post in a while, and I think it's time to fix that!  



Recently, I sat down with my father to look through his scrapbook of the early years of his career.  This is my dad, Don, in 1961.


He wasn't a farmer, but he played one in print ads for John Deere.


Dad worked in the sales department at John Deere in Horicon, Wisconsin, the small town where he was born and raised and where he raised his own family.  The John Deere Horicon Works plant, in those years, made farm implements, namely, grain drills, fertilizer spreaders, and the like.  

Dad's main job in the sales department from 1958 to about 1963 was drawing parts in exploded view for the parts catalog.  His drawings were then sent to company headquarters in Moline, Illinois where they were rendered by artists and used in a variety of printed materials.

The sales department was also involved in photographing the equipment for ad campaigns and brochures.  My father was recruited to drive the tractors and operate the equipment for such publicity.  In his words, "They needed somebody tall who would stand out."  Six-four and athletically built, Don was their man.


Some of the photography was done here in Wisconsin.  Other shoots took place in Montana, North Dakota, and Texas. 


Here are a few more brochures featuring Dad modeling the machinery.

 

In 1960, Deere introduced its "New Generation of Power" line of tractors, which replaced the legendary "Johnny Poppers."  

"New Generation" 4010 Diesel

Dad traveled with the company to set up and demonstrate the equipment, including the unveiling of the new tractor line at the momentous Deere Day in Dallas in late August 1960 (just a couple weeks after I was born). 


His job also took him to state fairs to demo and discuss with local farmers the new tractors and machinery.

Nice pith helmet!
 
Though he enjoyed traveling the country, Dad said it was always good to come back home to his family.  I don't remember much about his days on the road, as my sister and I were very young at the time.  I do know that it was while he was traveling on business in Minneapolis that he bought my sister and I our first (the first) Barbie doll.

Looks like they had it pretty rough sometimes.

One of his funny stories from the road was of having to stay in Grand Forks, North Dakota for two rainy weeks while they waited for weather to clear long enough to do a photo shoot.  They set up the equipment near the field in a Quonset hut that was used to store potatoes.  It was April, and the potatoes had begun to rot.  You can imagine the smell!

During this extended stay and rain delay, their evening routine quickly became  humdrum—see a show (movie), go to dinner...see a show, go to dinner.  One night the crew wandered over to a tavern after dinner and debated how they might get their bar tab approved by management when they returned home.  One of the men, a writer for John Deere Magazine, motioned for the drink receipt, then flipped it over and began to pen their plight on the reverse side:

"To my dear old Mr. Davis,
Our car is Hertz, not Avis.
Our problem is the weather,
an opponent we face together.
So here's good cheer to the Horicon crew,
'Twas good old 'Alphonsio' who bought the brew!"

The story goes that Mr. Davis got such a kick out of the whole thing, he told them to put the tab through as "entertainment expense."


 

In 1963, Dad began a different but equally interesting phase of his career as one of a handful of salesmen to debut to dealers across the country the very first lawn and garden tractor manufactured by John Deere, the Model 110.

But that's all we have time for today, friends.  I'll continue this story another time. Hope you enjoyed this vintage tractor ride down memory lane with my dad.   Thanks for visiting, and be sure to check out the fun and eclectic linky party of all things vintage at Colorado Lady!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Vintage Knitting Booklets

It's Vintage Thingie Thursday, and today I'm pulling out a couple of vintage knitting booklets that I found on my thrift store adventures this past summer.  

I love these primarily on the basis of retro style, and secondly because while I don't knit or crochet myself, I appreciate the work that goes into making such beautiful clothes.

The first booklet (the one pictured on the left above) is dated 1939.  These are such great, classic looks.



Love the collar on this sweater below (the booklet calls it a blouse, but to me, if it's knitted, it's a sweater).

The second booklet is dated 1941.  The U.S. officially entered WWII in late 1941, after Pearl Harbor was bombed and as the Nazis continued to wreak havoc across Europe.  

I imagine these sweaters being knitted in front of the radio as news was relayed of the war overseas, or as the Andrews Sisters sang "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy."

The final booklet is of men's fashions from 1945.  The props used in these photos give me a chuckle, with golf clubs or other sporting equipment and pipes being predominant. 


Great classic style once again.  The sweater below is called The Vacationer.  Gee, I don't see many people looking so dressed up on vacation anymore, do you?


This guy in the following picture looks like my first Ken doll.  Also a little like Elvis, although Elvis was so young when this booklet was published, his voice hadn't even changed yet.


 My favorite men's sweater is this one:


Look, he's got both a ski pole and a pipe!  Wonder if he can do both at the same time?  Now that's talent.  And who doesn't like a little fuming pipe tobacco to go with all that crisp, alpine air?

Hope you had fun peeking in on these vintage knitting patterns today.  Be sure to see the myriad of other Vintage Thingie Thursday treasures at ColoradoLady!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Py, Oh My!

Don't you just love it when you're junkin' and round the corner to another room, and there it is.  Pyrex!


Lots and lots of PyrexYou hear the angelic choir in your head singing, "Aaaahhh!"  

I love when that happens.

But then you approach the shelves closer and start to see price tags.  "What were they smoking?" price tags.  Ridiculously high price tags.  Suddenly, the sound in your head becomes the loser music on a game show, "Wah-wah-wah..."


I hate when that happens.

In the interest of full disclosure, this wasn't a thrift shop in Red Wing, Minnesota; it was an antique mall.  Even still, the prices were much higher than the antique malls at home.  I didn't buy anything here, but I enjoyed gorging on the eye candy, and I brought some home for you, too.  See, I was thinking about you.

Fortunately, I had plotted out a map to a Salvation Army thrift store on the opposite end of town, so we made our way there.  The Pyrex pickin's were slim, but I did snap up this beaut for $3.00.

It's a Gold Acorn oblong space saver casserole #548, 1-1/4 quart size.  According to Pyrex Love, it was manufactured from 1960-?  Very nice condition too, no chips or cracks.
In Winona, I found these two little treasures.  A Bluebird promotional 1-1/2 quart casserole with serving caddy (1959-1961) and a Pyrex Pink Flamingo 8-oz individual round casserole with lid.
On the way home, there was a fabulous Goodwill store in Onalaska, Wisconsin—clean, bright, not smelly.  But most importantly, there was some nice, gleaming Pyrex for cheap.  Under two bucks for this coffee carafe!

Ninety-nine cents for this clear #501 refrigerator dish.  I think this may be an early one (1950-1952) because the Pyrex stamp on the bottom is round, not square.  No lid for it though.  What do you want for $0.99?  

I also bought a random Pyrex lid (no pic) for the round casserole I will find on some future day that is missing its lid.  You know you're in deep when you buy the lid in advance!

That was the extent of my Pyrex adventures on this little road trip.  Next up, a bit more about Red Wing...pottery that is.  For more adventures in Pyrex, visit The Pyrex Collective, and for more vintage fun, check out Vintage Thingie Thursday at Colorado Lady!