It is all in the fit.

(photo from The Odd Twin, a simply wonderful vintage store in Park Slope)

A woman at work recently asked me if my outfit was vintage. She inquired while I was wearing a tan 1940's day dress with giant purple, red and turquoise flowers on it that has a high waist, a boat neck and an almost round flowing skirt.

I kind of chucked and said that more than half my clothes and certainly every interesting piece was made before 1980. She seemed stunned and followed up with one of my most favorite statements ever, "but they don't look old."

So, I told her my three secrets...

We bought a sofa...

It has happened. My beloved 1970's raw silk, feather cushioned sofa has been replaced. I adored it, even with all the pillow fluffing and concern over red wine spills. Even after Harriet decided one of the cushions was just too pretty and she had to tear it up. Even after the wonderful man spent his umpteenth hour laying in discomfort exclaiming that his LazyBoy had been a better bet then my vintage gem.

Even with all of my adoration, the time came for it to be replaced and to be honest, though I'm excited to freshen up my seating experience, I'm a litte ashamed. We caved. We bent. We dove.

Right into the inventory of the ABC Carpet and Home warehouse in the Bronx.

We came home with a deep purple, sexy as heck, 1/3 priced comfortable beauty with just one, foam-filled cushion that I assure you, will need no fluffing.

That being said, the real reason for this post is to highlight the fact that though my dedication to the old, preloved and left behind is strong, I do try and succeed at times in loving new things. A sofa, now a sofa is a thing that you get a lot of years out of, you get a lot of wear out of, you get a lot of hours of lounging out of. If there's something to be purchased new, it should be something useful, that will serve a dedicated purpose and need to stand up to wear and tear. A sofa, now that's the kind of thing you buy new.

(I'm not just fooling myself here right?)

Oh my. Swoon.

Look familiar? That's because all of those rhinestone collar necklaces that are oh so en vogue these days are simply copies of the art deco period. Here's the real deal ladies. Can't you imagine Zelda Fitzgerald swinging on the dance floor in Paris with this lovely piece around her neck?

I especially love the juxtaposition of the rhinestones to the large chain piece. It gives the whole thing a little bit of edge. What I wouldn't give to go back to the late 1920's just for a moment a lá Midnight in Paris. 

$115 from J Beseda

I never shun a pinch of sparkle...

By now it is no secret that I love nothing better than to peruse a room/field/warehouse full of old things.

During spring break, quite a handful of years ago, one of my favorite friends came to visit me at school. I lived in a lovely little turn of the century town that was sometimes referred to as the "Antique Capitol of Southern California". One of my favorite things to do was to explore the town's many antique stores and markets, it was like heaven.

So of course, when my lovely friend came to see me, I took her shopping in my kind of mall and it turned out to be a serendipitous day. It was the day we found the most perfect cardigan ever - a 1950's beauty, avocado green with a perfectly intact sunburst of beads framing the neckline, my friend took it home with her. Three years ago on New Years, my lovely friend came to visit me in New York City and brought the cardigan with her...

(read on for a pinch of sparkle for you) 

Iris, a vintage flower...

Oh, Iris Apfel, has there ever been a more genuine human? While perusing the interwebs today I discovered that one of my favorite filmmakers, Albert Maysles, is currently making a documentary about the vintage trendsetter Iris Apfel. I couldn't be more excited.

If you've seen Bill Cunningham New York (if you haven't, shame on you) then you know Iris. She's the bejeweled, white haired friend of Mr. Cunningham who is interviewed wearing her trademark round black glasses while sporting a signature sequined top. She is a gem. I can't wait to see this film.

Light up the living room like a grown up...

Our lovely Ikea lamp, left over from my days in the tiny East Village apartment I used to love, just blew up. As in, it literally blew up one day and almost set our chair on fire.

The incident got me to thinking, perhaps one of the ways you move into real adulthood is to invest in some real lamp-age. We recently inherited a gorgeous porcelain lamp from my husband's grandmother and now every other cheap lighting feature we have in our house looks childlike in comparison.

So, I've made a decision. Grown up lamps are soon to become part of our lives. The best thing about lamps is they can be fun or even a little bit crazy. They can be one of your adventurous decorating pieces because they're also practical. A crazy looking lamp will always look the part when you turn it on and it lights up your living room.

$200 for the pair from The Jabber Wocky Shop

Vintage sun hat. Shady at the park.

You should have one. Maybe this one, or this one, or this one?

Mine belonged to my husband's grandmother. It occasionally (read: all the time) flies right off my noggin when the wind is too strong but I love it all the same. 

I have nothing to do this weekend...

...and it feels good. Maybe I should buy this breakfast tray, go to the farmer's market and fill it with a cute brunch tomorrow.

Planning ahead? Maybe that's why I always have too much to do on the weekends.

Happy summer.