Well, Janeray, I can’t compete with the sheer amazing number of vintage tablecloths you’ve got. I started collecting them years later than you did, after all.
And I can’t compete with your brand-spankin’-new super-steamo iron, either.
But the ironing board?
Oh yeah. I got you beat on that one!
When I got married, I had a rickety 1980s ironing board and Bluesray had a super sturdy 1960s ironing board. We kept his and took mine to the thrift shop.
His board was aqua!
Twenty-some years later, a couple of the welds on that ancient aqua board finally failed. I couldn’t bear to trash it, though, so it’s down in the basement now, patiently waiting to be repurposed as a display piece for shows.
And then I went out and found the ironing board of my vintage tablecloth dreams: the Reliable Longboard.
Turns out that Columbus Washboard Company is still in business!
Apparently they are the last American maker of washboards. Their tiny Ohio factory still builds them by hand, one at a time.
They also sell interesting stuff like British-made wool-fat soap. Wool-o-phile that I am, I’ve gotta try that.
Coolest thing about them? They ship galvanized washboards and laundry supplies to US servicemen and women who are overseas in places where modern laundry facilities are thin on the ground. And they don’t make any profit from it.
I’m still not packing up my WW2-era glass Home Aide to take on vacation.
But I’m delighted that they’re still making Maid-Rites and Crystal Cascades, and especially those world-traveling American Prides.
I usually bypass the stack of framed art at the thrift shop. Never found much in it. Not even any interesting frames.
This beauty was buried under a stack of framed prints, of the kind you find at the big-box stores. And it just screamed, “I’m vintage! And unhappy! Get me out of here!”
So I did. Paid the $3 ransom the price tag was asking, and brought it home. Read the rest of this entry »