Warming back up with an electric tray by Cornwall

Looks like I let my blog "go cold" for a little while!

Oops!

To say things have been busy for me would be an understatement. I'm glad to be back and posting to the Hausfrau Journal despite the pressures of everyday life. Keeping connected with all you vintage-loving friends helps me through the tough times. (Do you feel the same?)

I'm so excited to share my most recent thrift shop find with you: a vintage Cornwall electric warming tray!

My favorite part about this gadget—other than the fact that it keeps all my homemade meals warm—is its fun, playing card-like aesthetic.

(But don't expect to see a six of clubs when you turn it over...)

There's even a handy "Hot Spot" (indicated by a single red diamond) to warm my beverages and sauces, a feature that I've seen on many warming trays.

And who doesn't love the old-fashioned plugs with their equal-sized prongs. Ah, the good ol' days...

Thanks for bearing with me while I "unplugged" for a while!

The Hausfrau has Links

My "Links" page has finally arrived! Click here to take a look!

Packaging Pleasure: Podpiwek

There's a Polish grocer not too far from me that sells all sorts of delightful specialty products, including sour cherries in jars, poppyseed filling for pastries, and various hard-to-find grains. They also carry Podpiwek, a mixture of dried beets, barley, chicory root, sugar, and hops.

Yes, I bought it because of the package. I'm a sucker for the retro look, and this has definitely got that 1950s-does-16th-century aesthetic. (And if you love that look, check out this nifty vintage paper bag I found in an old hat!)

This is what the contents look like:

Since it has chicory root, I kind of assumed it was a replacement for coffee, so I brewed myself up a cup.

That was a mistake.

This stuff is actually used to make a weak, 3- to 5-day-old beer. Of course if I had noticed that the man on the front is holding a mug of frothing beer, I could have saved myself an unpleasant experience.

The Joy of Juice

Summer is a time of bounty, when the plants that spring from the earth share with us their bright and flavorful riches. Summer is also the time when my local grocer offers discounted fruits and vegetables, packaged at the peak of ripeness and needing to be sold immediately.

Yesterday morning I decided to finally do something with those many packages of strawberries and blueberries sitting in my refrigerator. Typically I make jam with such fruit, but lately I've been experimenting with homemade wines, so I decided to make juice from them using a Saftborn steam juicer I bought at a second-hand store last year for 10 Euros (!).

Who's heard of Harold Lloyd?

You've heard of Charlie Chaplin, Laurel & Hardy, and Buster Keaton, right?

How about Harold Lloyd?

Every summer I go on a silent movie binge, usually comedy, and usually Chaplin and Keaton. After working through all their films I moved on to Laurel and Hardy this summer. When that supply was exhausted, I came across a mention of Harold Lloyd, a comedy genius who in terms of output and financial success, superseded even Charlie Chaplin.

By all accounts Lloyd was a surprisingly normal and kindly fellow who happened to be one of the great masters of humor in his day. Today he's best known for Safety Last (1923), especially the famous scene in which he climbs to the top of a building and dangles precariously from the hands of a massive clock far above a bustling city.

(Can you make it through the final scene without squirming in your chair or pausing the film? I couldn't!)

Look closely and you'll note something odd with his right hand. Lloyd lost two fingers and part of the palm during an accident four years earlier when he was handed a real bomb instead of a fake prop during a photo shoot. In subsequent films he wore a stuffed glove to hide this disfigurement. And despite this handicap he amazingly did almost all his own stunts.

Source: IMBd

When you've worked through Safety Last and some of his other films, take a look at the documentary of his life produced as part of the American Masters series from PBS. Unfortunately this has yet to be released on DVD, but depending on where you live, you can watch it on YouTube:

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Vivid color video of New York from 1939

Are you as impressed as I am at the quality and vibrancy of this video shot in the streets of New York 74 years ago?

Never been opened

Don't you just love coming across an unopened package of an everyday household item made over half a century ago? Last week I stumbled upon this crisply folded, "brand new" white muslin sheet in its original sealed plastic bag by Erwin White Star.

Judging by the packaging, I would say it comes from the 50s. Apparently the brand no longer exists, but occasionally you'll see some linens from them on eBay or Etsy.

Someday I hope to open a little museum of everyday life from past decades to showcase ordinary objects like these. A gal can dream!

Tangee Lipstick Review

When's the last time you treated yourself to a new tube of lipstick? Many economists and social scientists have noticed a trend dating back to the Great Depression that during tough economic times, cosmetic sales tend to increase. The explanations for this noteworthy phenomenon range from insightful to outright fanciful, but generally it is believed women strapped for cash will splurge on a new shade for their lips rather than more expensive items like a new dress.

At almost $15 a tube, I wouldn't say Tangee is the cheapest lipstick around, but given the brand has been around for almost a century, its formula virtually unchanged during that time, I thought a vintage-loving gal like me should pick up a tube, regardless of the state of the economy.

Tangee's fame lies in its unusual color-changing characteristic, hence the motto "The Lipstick That Changes Color to Become Uniquely Your Own". In short, this vibrant orange gloss-like lipstick turns an elegant shade of red with a hint of purple within seconds of applying it to your lips.

How does this happen?

Petticoats, plain and pretty

Last October I had a long conversation with a great aunt who is very dear to me. She worked as a hairdresser during the 60s and was generally a fashionable lady, even coming from a rather modest background. (I'll have to ask her more about her experience with hairdressing next time we chat.)

I enjoy hearing stories and memories from the elderly even more than I enjoy collecting items from past eras—which is a lot! Their tales are rich with wisdom, experience, and first-hand knowledge. Many have a very characteristic way of pronouncing words and telling stories that has disappeared with the younger generations.

But back to my great aunt.