Thank you, Miss Beers

Miss Beers was an elderly lady who lived next door to my grandfather and his partner in Muir Street, Richmond, Melbourne, for many years. Pop and Mona were very friendly with Miss Beers, although I'm not convinced that they actually knew her first name. Certainly, nobody else in our family ever heard of Miss Beers having a given name. Miss Beers apparently never married and had no family, and when she died in the 1980s at more than 90 years of age, quite a few of her belongings ended up in the hands of my grandfather. Some of these have made their way to me over the years.

In the '80s Pop gave me Miss Beers' furs. He was very determined that they went to me, I don't know why. Maybe he was just thinking that I liked old fashioned things. Maybe he even thought I was fashionable! Now, you need to know that no way can I do fur. I think it looks wonderful in vintage fashion shots, but even better on the animals. I can't touch it, and I can't help thinking about how the poor animals need their fur a lot more than I do. In a little suitcase were a short red fox shoulder length evening cape with stand up collar, a lynx pelt with a paw at each end (shudder!) which was probably meant as a trim for a coat collar, and two long fox stoles complete with heads, glass eyes and paws (double shudder). I put the suitcase up through the manhole into the ceiling cavity, and after my grandfather passed away, I gave it to the op shop. Sorry, Miss Beers.

One of the few things I know about Miss Beers is that she had some kind of connection with Helena Rubinstein. I don't know whether she was a friend, a business associate or an employee, but she reputedly had much Rubinstein paraphernalia in her house. My mother and cousin remember a lot of beauty products and make-up cases in the house, and they remember my grandfather talking about a connection. Helena Rubinstein opened her first beauty salon in Melbourne in 1902. Her London and Paris stores were opened in 1908 and the New York store in 1916, according to the Australian Dictionary of Biography. Miss Beers was reportedly in her 90s when she died in the 1980s, so I'm guessing she was probably born in the 1890s. She would have been far too young to have been a contemporary of Rubinstein's (who was born about 1870) although she certainly may have come to know her later. One of the items that has made its way to me is a hand towel from Helena Rubinstein's salon. It is signed "Helena Rubinstein" in what appears to be the lady's hand.

 I can only imagine Rubinstein marking her own laundry by hand in her early shop in Melbourne. It appears to be a personal signature rather than a shop name printed by an employee. I wonder whether Miss Beers may have worked in this inaugural salon. She would have been a teenager during the early years of that shop, so the dates fit. I would love to know more about this connection, but probably never will.

Pop also gave me some of Miss Beers' clothes. There were three 1940s blouses, which I wore quite a bit many years ago, but I threw them away when they became discoloured with age. I also have a beaded dress from the 1940s, which I have always wanted to wear, and keep promising myself that I will as soon as I lose a kilo or two (or more like five, now).

Here I have the dress pinned onto the front of the model because it is too small to go on. There is no zipper, and it is not stretch fabric. 

Even now I can't bring myself to put this dress into my shop because I love it, even though I never wear it.

Mum has given me other of Miss Beer's bits and pieces over the years, such as these:

I love the little tin for the boot buttons. The beading needles are in a tiny packet. There are ten packs of needles bundled up here, each set wrapped in black paper, I think to prevent rusting. I wouldn't dream of opening them.

Yesterday, Mum gave me Miss Beers' sewing basket.

Inside is a little treasure trove in miniature. Here is what I found:

An assortment of bits of vintage lace:

A selection of old wooden cotton reels, mostly of silk thread.

Here is my favourite:

An assortment of tools and bits and pieces:

Clockwise from left- fancy braid, a travelling sewing kit, a wooden needle case,  a rug hook, a boot hook for hooking your boot buttons, a tape measure, thimble,  plastic buckle for a school dress, large 1940s button,  a man's mother of pearl collar button and a length of beads.

My favourites are the travelling sewing kit and the mother of pearl button, though I love the big button too. 

This little plastic kit is a hollow tube in which to store your needles The outside doubles as your cotton reels. It is less than 2 inches long.

This button is for buttoning on a man's detachable collar, it works a bit like a cuff-link.

Here is the biggest surprise in the basket. A scrunched up, raggy bit of fabric:

I was nearly going to throw this away, when I thought "I wonder what this is?" So I ironed it. Look what it was.

This absolutely gorgeous lace is extremely old, I would guess it's from the 19th century. It's only about 1/2 cm wide and is threaded with the tiniest ribbon, only a mm or so wide.

Mum still has lots of Miss Beers' other things. Maybe that will be another chapter. 

How I wish I knew who she was.

Sorry, Not For Sale!

I thought I'd share with you some of my best finds. These are the really special things that I decide to keep, so sorry to vintage lace lovers out there.
I recently learned that both of my adult daughters share my love of vintage lace doilies and other linen, so these are the heirloom items I will pass on to them one day. Funny that I never realised that I'd passed on my interest. It took my eldest daughter's prospective mother-in-law to fill me in on that.

Here is a very special piece which I have had for years. The person who gave it to me told me that it came from Government House in Melbourne. It would be 19th century work.

19th Century Silk Doiley

This gorgeous doiley is extremely fine work made of silk. I think it is handmade bobbin lace. It's pale beige.
It has sat on a sideboard or an occasional table at Government House and seen a succession of Kings, Queens and Princes entertained in right regal style. Definitely Governors, probably Prime Ministers and Premiers. If only these items could talk, they would tell some interesting tales... on second thoughts, they would probably be terrible gossips.




In January I visited a lot of op shops in country Victoria and New South Wales and found a few treasures. I won't call them bargains, because I paid through the nose for them. But they were so beautiful I couldn't resist.
This is a superb large doiley in Irish crochet, where the little flowers are three dimensional. It is hand done in extremely fine ecru cotton. I bought this and the collection about to be described at the Vinnies (St Vincent de Paul) shop in Benalla, in rural central Victoria. It looks as though they have all come from the one source.

 

I would guess that these doilies once belonged in one of the stately historic homes in this area.

Tatting

When I found this pile of handmade antique tatted doilies, (in the same Vinnies store) I had to have all of them. Many of these were stained, and quite a few were a very dark ecru, actually tan.

I can barely see the threads, so I can't imagine anyone actually sitting and making these by hand with the little tatting shuttle. If you don't know what tatting is, it's done with a tiny shuttle of cotton, which you pass in and out, like a complicated and permanent cat's cradle (that doesn't pull undone). The result is a series of tiny knots around a central thread, with loops for decoration. Many years ago, (when I had leisure time, before I had babies) I learned to tat. I couldn't be bothered keeping it up, such a lot of knots and joins, and if you make a mistake, you can't pull it undone, you have to cut it off and rejoin a new piece and start that bit all over again. And you have to try to darn in about 700 ends! I suppose it's because I've done it that I can appreciate the workmanship in these doilies.

I bought 10 medium sized and four matching small doilies. I'll keep some and divide the rest between my girls.

 

When I bought these doilies, as I said before, some of them were an unusually dark brown for linen. I recently read in an old magazine, some tips for cleaning lace, where they recommend soaking the stained article in cold tea. I think this must be what happened to these doilies. I could see that they had marks, and I think the laundress had tried to disguise them by recolouring the linen. However, I popped them in the laundry soaker overnight, and they come out a lovely pale ecru, with no sign of marks. Isn't Napi-san wonderful?

 

With this pile of Vinnies doilies, I also bought two of these lovely lace pieces. I don't know how they were made. Please comment and tell me if you think you know. These had also had the tea-soak treatment, but are now restored. They look to me to be similar to guipure lace. I am imagining the stately home they all lived in, and whether or not it still exists, or whether it has been bull-dozed to make room for a new sub-division.

                                                                                 And this sweet little bobbin lace piece.

 

Back home again, you don't have to drive hundreds of kilometres to find treasures. Last week I found this fabulous piece in the Salvos store in Hastings. I'd say it's 1920s work, or earlier. Australiana was extremely popular then, as I've mentioned in a previous post.  http://vintageknitpatterns.blogspot.com.au/2013_01_01_archive.html

 I'll bet the lady who worked this devised the pattern herself. Otherwise, it's the kind of pattern that may have been published in the Weekly Times newspaper. I was sad to find that the Weekly Times no longer has a craft and pattern page.

I just love the little wrens, and the beautiful way the wattle has been worked, with little bobbles for the flowers. This piece now lives on top of the piano that no-one plays anymore.

I'm amused by the way that op shops sell doilies. They sell by size rather than quality, so you can often get an exquisite handmade lace piece for $1.00, yet they charge $5.00 for a large machine made, mass produced piece. But I'm not complaining!

So, these are the kinds of pieces I keep. My drawer is getting quite full, so I am putting together an inheritance pile for my girls. And I guess, I may have to sell some of it.