Spotting Fake Amber: An Easy Way of Working a Jurassic Park Reference Into This Blog

I know you were there with me in the nineties. I know you saw that mosquito suspended in amber while watching Jurassic Park and thought it was the raddest thing of all time. And I know that this sense of history (or prehistory) gives amber a general air of mysterious otherworldliness. Which is why fake amber can be such a bummer. Who wants to find out that they’ve been duped by a dead bug in some plastic goop, and have no possibility of reincarnating dinosaurs? Not me.

Stakeout: The Posh Oppe Shoppe, Caulfield South

OK, now before anyone points this out to me, I’m well aware that I may have spelled the name of this shop incorrectly. Posh Opp Shoppe? Poshe Oppe Shop? I forget (unforgivable). In the end I went for the maximum allowable amount of Ye Olde Time spelling, a sensible decision in anyone’s book. It’s at the corner of Glenhuntly Road and Grange Road.

Now, where were we? Ah, yes. This is really the grand - daddy of op shops in its area. It leaves me flabbergasted every time. How is it that they are jam packed to the rafters with vintage gems, antiques and collectables, while other nearby ops haven’t got a hope? Where are they getting their stuff?

How to Identify Jet and Its (Many) Imitators

You’ve probably seen jet jewellery before. It’s black, it’s shiny, it’s reminiscent of the Victorian era, when Queen Victoria wore it during her long period of mourning after the death of Prince Albert in 1861 and accidentally caused a fashion sensation.

This fashion during the high Victorian period meant that jet (especially from Whitby in Yorkshire, England) became immensely popular as a material for mourning jewellery. Which means it became more expensive. Which, in turn, means that many cheaper alternatives to jet were employed to make less expensive jewellery that captured the sombre elegance of jet.

Unfortunately, the differences between jet and its imitations are sometimes very hard to distinguish; it’s not like comparing a rhinestone to a diamond. Jet isn’t actually a mineral, as it’s made when decaying wood is under extreme pressure (sort of like coal). Its what’s known as a mineraloid. Thus some traditional measures of the intrinsic material can’t be used in this instance.

Anyway, down to business…here’s a few pointers if you want to work out whether something is jet:

Tools For Appraising Stuff in Op Shops and Antique Stores

Over the last few years, I’ve learned a fair bit about detecting quality, spotting fakes and generally examining items at op shops, fairs and antiques stores. But a trained eye and a bank of knowledge take time to build up, and having a few tools on one’s person when one is out and about can make assessing an item that much easier.

It’s also a good way to demonstrate to a vendor that you’re not one of those characters in a cartoon that turns into a lollipop/pigeon when a shyster walks by.

So here are the items I would always carry with me if I could…

Carole Tanenbaum is Keeping Me Under House Arrest

Ok, this one is for the vintage costume jewellery lovers.

While sifting through the magical land of the internet, I came across a news article which informed me that Sarah Jessica Parker had been spotted out and about wearing not one of her trademark el-gigantor hideous flowers (question: which is worse - these or those ‘this-took-the-lives-of-five-goats’ ugg boots?), but a beautiful vintage brooch by famed designer Hattie Carnegie. Her source? One of costume jewellery’s grand dames, Carole Tanenbaum (author of the well-known book Fabulous Fakes).

What I didn’t realise is that:

Stakeout: The Gods of Brunswick Savers Have Been Kind

Turns out I’ve been writing off Brunswick Savers for far too long. My prior writings-off have been based on low-yielding visits of the past, which I put down to the fact that this store is picked over daily by the hordes of tragically-hip types who live in the area and the fashion students who cruise past on the tram as they make their way to the nearby RMIT tafe.

I was there on Saturday morning. Maybe it’s because the previous day had been a public holiday; maybe turnover is really high; maybe Brunswick gets the best stuff or I was just really lucky, but I’m going to have to eat my previous words; I had a rad day at Brunswick Savers.

I should also mention that I was there early (around 10am), and it didn’t get busy until around 11:30 am (yes I was in there that long), so this probably had something to do with it.

But check this out:

Stakeout: Ballarat Antiques Fair, 8-10 March 2008

If you should decide to attend this fair next year, there is one piece of advice I heartily recommend that you follow: wear Bermuda shorts. And nothing else. The location (a Badminton centre in Wendouwee) was sweltering. All the elderly attendees (and me) were covered in a gleaming sheen of sweat. It was obscene. And everyone was talking about how it was ‘much better than last year’. Goodness gracious. BYO Malibu and pineapple/G’n’T, or suffer the consequences. 

In fact, in a recommendation that goes against the most fundamental rule of vintage shopping, I actually recommend that you go to this fair (or any fair held in a giant tin shed) late in the day. Part of the smothering atmosphere was due to the sheer number of bodies crammed into the joint. And if you thought that the largely middle-aged and elderly crowd would be genteel and polite, then THINK AGAIN. I haven’t been shoved this badly by the aged since I went to the Sistine chapel on ‘free entry day’. Handbags, canes, freshly deep-heated elbows – these dames (and gents) seemed like they’d be more at home in a Limp Bizkit mosh pit than daintily inspecting Royal Doulton tea sets, but there you have it.

OK, so my griping aside – how was the fair?

Stakeout: Kyneton Op Shops Rulz, OK?

Sorry to channel Fido Dido so early on a Monday, but if you haven’t already gotten thee to Kyneton, then do so. Immediately.

Here’s some context: I was in that general Macedon/Daylesford area over the weekend, and Oh My Godfather did I stumble upon some oppy gems. They were amazing. They were as untouched as the tomb of Tutankhamen (you know, before that guy found it). You might even say that they were hip to the op.

Here they are, while I breathe into a paper bag/picture a calm blue ocean:

Telling the Difference Between Rhinestone, Paste and Marcasite

My early forays into collecting costume jewellery saw me embarrass myself in front of vendors, dealers and the general public often. And gratuitously.

One such occasion was at Camberwell market, where I was looking at some brooches (there’s a whole brooch STALL there, I’ve nearly been sunburned poring over the merchandise more than once), and asked a woman who can only be described as ‘the brooch woman’ (you know the one I mean – wall to wall brooches – she’s basically my hero) if I could have a look at a 1930s fur clip that had been converted into a brooch.

‘It’s marcasite, isn’t it?’ I said, looking at the tiny, almost flat stones.

She nearly laughed in my face.

‘Ah, no dear, it’s paste,’ she said.

‘How can you tell?’ I asked.

I can’t remember precisely what her response was, but it was something along the lines of ‘if you have to ask you’re a hopeless case anyway, now shoo!’

This experience taught me several things. First, never show your hand if you can help it – I should have said ‘What’s it made from?’ rather than look like I was trying to look like I knew what I was talking about (if you know what I mean).

Secondly, that I had been told that paste items were in fact ‘marcasite’ for my entire life. My mother would often mention how much she liked ‘old marcasite’ jewellery, when she was actually talking about paste. Thus was the source of my error.

So, to prevent anyone else out there from embarrassing themselves in the way I embarrassed myself, here’s some info on how these three different materials can be distinguished from one another

Investigation: The Case of the Annoying Mystery Signature

Like it or not, signatures, tags, hallmarks, stamps and numbers matter when you’re talking vintage. This goes for a number of things – silver, glass (if you can find one on a glass item…good luck), furniture, clothes (obviously), figurines and so on and so forth. And nowhere is the hunt for a name more intense than in the field of costume jewellery.

Example: I recently saw a Lea Stein fox head brooch (brown and white, for those who are interested, which screams mid-1970s to me) with an unsigned clasp for sale on eBay. The price? US$19.99. Now, given that just about ANY Stein will have the trademark v-shaped ‘Lea Stein Paris’ pinback – and even really small pieces have a tiny, straight bar that reads ‘Lea Stein’, and these fox heads are usually signed – this low price is probably due to the seller expecting some (reasonable) suspicion that the piece is a fake. But there were several photos and a ‘Made in France’ sticker, and the thing did look genuine. Its signed value is probably anywhere between $60-$80 on eBay or similar, or $100-$120 retail.

What this goes to show is that signed pieces are usually going to sell for a higher price than their unsigned counterparts (unless the lack of signature is due to the piece being very early – and as there are so few signatures on really early pieces, the lack of one is never taken as a sign of mass-production or poor quality).

So given this thirsty hunt for a name, it’s highly frustrating when you have pieces that bear some kind of signature that you either can’t decipher or can’t get any information about.