I don't go looking for weekend garage sales; honest, I don't.
I just run into them, when I'm walking the dogs.
And because my pugs think that sleeping until 6:30 a.m. is sleeping in, I'm often one of the first ones to discover a neighbor has herself a garage sale going. (These things are almost run by women; why is that?)
And I usually have a dollar or two stuck in the pouch with my dogs' treats. It's not a bad thing, in this neighborhood, to have a dollar or two with you on the weekends.
If it isn't a garage sale you run into, there's the Starbuck's three blocks away.
Anyhow, I found these two sweet items on Sunday. The first is this cute little dish:
The George V???? At first, I doubted that it could really be from that fabled hotel:
But a quick flip over, and this is what I saw on the back side:
It looks like the real deal. I'm not sure if it's an ashtray, or for tips, or a dish slipped under something cool and alcoholic.
It was lying in a box full of Wedgwood cigarette lighters, ashtrays, and cigarette holders, so somebody had good taste--and money to go to Paris. The garage-sale lady told me she found the entire cache at the estate sale of one of the hangers-on of the "Rat Pack." (Sorry; I forget which one.) She said the estate was a real party house, with bars and smoking paraphernalia that went on for weeks.
Those naughty Rat Packers were probably partying it up in Paris, and one of them slipped this into a pocket or purse. I bet it was used as an ashtray, since it seems all those Hollywood types smoked back in the 1940s and 1950s.
And now, for the price of $1, I own a teensy bit of vintage Hollywood glamour.
The garage sale lady threw this in for free:
A big crystal from a chandelier.
When I first saw it, it was covered with dust and had some white candle wax drippings on it, too.
I'm a sucker for faceted drops, whether or not they are attached to a chandelier. I'll wire this new one on to the petite chandelier in my closet:
It'll be happy to join the party that's going on below the little lampshades, I think.
No cigarettes or ashtrays required.