The Importance of Colour When Valuing Vintage

Recently, I have been reminded several times of the importance of colour (especially in relation to scarcity) when it comes to valuing vintage.

Example: think of glomesh. And I bet, when you do, that you think of either white or tan glomesh, or, if you’re feeling really adventurous, black. The prices for such glomesh are (or should be) fairly modest. But the less common colours - say, gold and bronze - are going to fetch a premium. And the really rare, out there colours - I still regret not buying an apple green glomesh handbag - are going to be priced even higher.

More Than You Probably Want to Know About Head Vases

If you don’t know what a head vase is, don’t worry - it’s pretty self explanatory. They’re small vases (3 -8 inches high, depending on how deluxe the model is) in the shape of a head. The head in question usually belongs to a young glamorous woman.

And aside from general retro value - these babies were mostly produced in the 50s and 60s - there’s something wonderfully lobotomy/zombie like about the whole ‘hot babe dressed to the nines who is apparently missing a brain but never mind we’ll jam some violets in there’  vibe of the head vase phenomenon.

Note to Self: Ugly 1970s Porcelain Has ‘Arrived’

So there I am, flicking through a collectables magazine in my local newsagency, when I come across an article by some baby boomer collector who’s enamoured with all things 70s. ‘Oh yes’, I thought, ‘I see where you’re going with this’… lots of brown, lots of orange, lots of big ugly stylised flowers. Right on. Then I saw a picture that sent a shiver down my spine.

It was of a blue, white and brown dinner plate - the ‘Moon’ design from one of Midwinter’s 1970s ‘Stonehenge’ dinner service collections (there were matching ones in ‘Earth’ and ‘Sun’ - did I already mention that this was the 70s?)

Now this might not sound like a big deal…until

Noritake Porcelain: It Won’t Be Affordable Forever

Have you noticed that the level of snobbery towards porcelain produced in Japan is starting to dramatically fall?

In fact, Japanese porcelain from the middle of the 20th Century (stuff that would be called ‘retro’, I suppose) is becoming fairly collectable. And the more kitschy it is, the more people love it. Figurines produced in Japan, especially during the 1960s – long, lean cats, roly-poly puppies and birds with big eyes, all of them in wild primary colours – are selling at Chapel Street Bazaar et al for quite the pretty penny.

All of this brings me to a Somewhat Risky Observation – it appears that more conservative/useful/early Japanese porcelain is starting to increase in value as well.

Stakeout: St Albans Anglican Church Op Shop, North Melbourne

It was something of a physical challenge to complete the walk to this op today, as I was nearly blown away by the gusts outside, and am still suffering from the after effects of dust, debris and twigs being blown into my eyes. My hair is also currently reminiscent of Bon Jovi during his ‘just-cos-I’m-a-small-man-doesn’t-mean-my-hair-can’t-be-wild-woo-I’m-king-of-the-jungle-hello-ladies’ phase.

Thus it’s only a matter of time before I’m gripped by the urge to wail about the tribulations of Tommy and Gina (before entering a curious hair straightening era), so I’ll cut to the chase.

This op ain’t no good.

Stakeout: Dandenong Savers

Ah, Dandenong (or, as I’ve rechristened it, ‘the nong’). The final frontier of Savers locations.

Driving over from the westies, I followed the line in the Melways across several dozen maps, and past many a barbeques galore/maceys the flooring giant/bunnings, to get there. It’s at 210 Lonsdale Street, Dandenong (but trust me, if you’re driving through the nong you won’t miss it).

I was surprised to find that this Savers is actually relatively small. It’s certainly smaller than Frankston and Greensborough, and around the same size as Footscray. But that distinctive Savers odour (like someone’s spewed on the floor, and instead of cleaning it up they’ve decided to light a cheap vanilla-scented candle) was totally there.

This Savers had many pairs of excellent vintage shoes, and the jewellery was of a decent standard. I even spied a marcasite brooch jammed in with some plastic beads and bangles, though at $24.99 it didn’t look spectacular.

Sadly, the clothes here really weren’t that good.

Stakeout: Braybrook Salvation Army Family Store

If you like to buy stuff from barn-sized, warehouse style stores where the signage is in primary colours and there’s probably a plushy mascot involved, then Braybrook is for you (then again, so are most main roads in the outer suburbs of Melbourne).

Thusly the Salvos Family Store in Braybrook, at 296 Ballarat Road, is a barn style place nestled among a bunch of other barns, giving the general impression that one is gadding about in the Land of the Giants.  

One thing that should be noted about these huge, suburban Salvos stores is that they are usually

Vintage Uranium Glass: Rad, Rare and Radioactive

While at the Ballarat Antiques Fair this past weekend, I did make one interesting discovery which I thought worth sharing: uranium glass.

I’m the first to admit that antique/vintage glass is not something I know a lot about, which is probably why I’d never heard of this stuff before. Essentially, it’s glass with a component of uranium oxide added (about 2%, though in heady Victorian times it was as high as 25%), which means that it vaguely glows green in daylight, glows wildly green/yellow under UV light and has a positive reading when tested for radioactivity (but not to dangerous levels).

Someone had set up a small cabinet in Ballarat displaying uranium glass- mostly vases and bowls, though there was a rad butter dish shaped like a nude woman reclining – backlit by UV. It’s mightily impressive, as the way the glass is carved means that some parts glow more brightly than others, giving the stuff an ethereal/creepy look. Kind of part ghost story, part neon sign, part delicate Victoriana. There’s something very cold war about it, even though it was originally produced in Victorian times in workshops such as that of the famous Josef Riedel (and became rare during the cold war due to the scarcity of uraium).

I also saw uranium glass jewellery (mostly beads), which is apparently safe to wear, but I don’t know. We all saw what happened to Marie Curie. Though apparently some peeps have vast, vast collections of uranium glass and are no worse off for it. Or so they say.

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: Savers Footscray

Ah, Savers Footscray (33 Albert Street Footscray, near enough to Forges for me to reference those wonderfully-woeful Dipper ads). I think they’re having a half price day today (March 3), so if you can be bovvered it could be worth a look. They’re open every day; later on Thursdays and Fridays, til 6 on Saturday and til 5 on Sunday.

But alas for us desk-bound workers (saying things like that always reminds me of that episode of the Simpsons where Gabbo steals Itchy and Scratchy, and so Krusty has to show ‘eastern Europe’s favourite cat and mouse team…Worker and Parasite!’ which is one of the all time greatest Simpsons moments) - where was I? – for us full time workers, weekends and the occasional evening are the only time when the slightly malodourous wonder of Savers is available for our perusement.

Which is a really long-winded way of saying I was there on Saturday, partially to check up on the jewellery situation, partially to have a general rifle-and-prod.

Savers stores are weird, and the Footscray one is no exception.