Yard Sale Musings; Memoir of a Good Sale and Doll Castle News

Hot, steamy summer is officially here. My glasses fog up repeatedly, and I have to pull my hair back. Everyday is a bad hair day, and it is just too, too hot! But, everything is relative. I have great memories of running around in the heat; of yard sales where I took off wearing my all cotton shirt, white, of course, and vinage jeans, usually with the faded flower print worked into the denim, hunting for treasures. I liked to wear my hair down then, and a lolng necklace of tourquoise beads doubled twiced around my neck. I found some good sales in the close heat and stifling air, one where the man of the house appreicated my love of old toys, and actually invited me in to look at Sonja Henie and Bucherer dolls, the last I had never seen. I only had the photo in my metal doll book from the Yokohama doll museum. He had a tiny mannikin, used to model foundation garments as an ad sign in drug stores, and lots of little bisque figures, most in boxes. At another sale, I bought African dolls and carvings, and a vintage radio case. The man there had brought the wooden carvings from Africa when he was there during World War II.

I had stumbled on estate sales with antique dolls and ancient scrapbooks, boxes of doll furniture, one legendary sale had dolls, pottery, and artifacts from all over the world. I came back with a Diana of Ephesus, a Lenci mascotte from Rome, several Greek pots with Ibises and horned beasts, jewelry, a block of antique tea with a pagoda done in bas relief on it, dozens of miniatures and crepe paper ornaments from Mexico, you name it. Even my mom was impressed. I felt a lot like Lucy St. Elmo from the Mary Moody mysteries.

Summer of 92 was stifling, but we used to take off for the Great River flea market, and eat at Lonesome Dove,now defunct, full of taxidermy and great buffet food. I met my friend Zondra there, who was a real gypsy, and a GWTW freak. She had the whole collection of dolls from Alexander and Royal, as well as sketches I didn't buy that were done for the TV sequel, Scarlett. Could have kicked myself for that, and would have liked the sketch of the late Dorothy Tutin, who made her portrayal of Anne Boleyn so famous.

Then there were our family trips, to Europe, Mexico, Canada, all over the US, always searching out flea markets and dolls. There was the "monasteraki" in Athens, and the black, silk screened Greek doll. We saw some bisque heads there, and wished we had bought them, and there were vendors on every corner selling soft plastic dolls and celluloid babies and toys made in Greece, and book shops with doll shaped books and litho paper dolls from Denmark and elsewhere. There was the Madrid flea market and the pilgrims of Santiago dolls, and the San Jose flea market, and Monterey Flea market, and the old Indiana Antiques. We loved Gilroy and Casa de Fruta in its early days; not only did they have aplets and cotlets, but they had old stock Europian dolls for Hungary and elsehwere, all original, for less than one dollar, and some were quite large. We found masks and Mexican miniatures in San Juan Bautista, and our favorite restaurant had two cases of foreign dolls gracing their walls. In Canada, we found antique stores with great jewelry, and commerically made bisque dolls, and Inuit dolls and sculpture. I used to love Stratford, Ontario, and just missed going to a big Doll Show, but I made it up in Royal Doultn and Canadian dolls. At a good will, I bought an Argeninian baby doll.

We loved Wisconsin Dells, and when I was thirteen, bought my first metal head from a lady whose whole house was a doll store, and my first Ginny from a farm with grey geese running around the yard. There was a great store there that had a window full of bisque dolls and costume dolls, and a drug store where I bought a Skookum doll and a baby in a papoose cradle marked "occupied Japan."

I loved the thrill of the hunt with my Mom, and we were forces to be recogned with in New Orleans and Williamsburg, VA. The Lady Anne Doll factory was a dream come true, and Mary Todd Lincoln was a special treasure, as were the Ozark flea markets and stops we made during another trip.

My mom and I got a kick out of anything unusual; my scandalized dad tried to keep me from entering Marie LeVeau's House of Voodoo in NO, but after I poopoohed his objections of people we know seeing us there, I went in and found my mom gazing at voodoo dolls and skulls and candles with, "that's cute" about to burst forth from her lips. I bought a ju-ju doll, and another VooDoo doll from a store called Hello Dolly. Great place; I'd live there ina heartbeat, hurricanes and all. Wish I could have gone back when St. Elizabeth's was a doll museum.

I did get to see the outside of Kimport Dolls, to visit Vera Kramer's Dolls in Wonderland before she had to move from her building. I saw the famous Marque doll, and many more.

So much has changed, and the hot summers that meant it was time for Old Albuquerque, and Disneyland's French Quarter Antique Shop, and Mott's Miniature Museum in Knott's Berry Farm, are sweet ghosts of my past. The summer of Jaws lingers in my memory because I spent time wandering on the beach at Huntington Beach, and picking up shells for a doll house roof that became an art project the next year. I used miniatures from an antique shop there, and ate scallops at a seafood shack where a six foot shark hung over our heads. Aunt Connie had flown down from San Jose, and we picked her up at LAX where I saw Laurel and Hardy Dolls by Dakin in the gift shop.

I think I actually bought one there.


That was the year we ate tuna salad at the Chicken of the Sea Restaurant in Disneyland, and wandered around San Francisco, and everyone was happy for once.

When I think about these things, or wander the sales, I'm still fifteen, and my family is with me. My pen pals still write to me, and Christmas Cards are still a big deal.

Kudos to Doll Castle magazine, by the way, for staying with it, and for publishing my friend R. Lane Herron's great article about our friend Glenda Rolle and her sand babies. What a wonderful article! Such great dolls, and they, too, remind me of beaches, especially Capitola, home of Suzanne Gibson, Santa Cruz, where I think Dewees Cochran lived? Lane would know.

I'd love to hear from anyone who remembers Kimport, or the mag, Berneice's Bambini, or Madonna Hardy Inlow dolls, or the Mark Farmer Doll doll company, or the old Chelsea Shop in Ghiradelli Square in San Francisco. Those were great times. May you all have a great summer, and find your own doll memories.