While going yard saling, flea marketing, or thrifting, John & I always have a mental list of certain things that if we're lucky enough to find them, it makes our day (vintage Dansk items, rare art books, cool 70's pendants), weekend (paintings, silkscreens, art pottery, ), month (Milo Baughman tables, Joe Colombo light), or possibly year (Eames lounge chairs with their matching ottomans, Pierre Paulin chairs). But there are some items that still elude us, making them even more desirable, as the more you can't have something, the more you want it. This is the case with trying to find a 1972 Kenner Blythe doll. I started looking for one about 8 years ago. I had a few (10++) of the reissued Takara Blythe dolls that I would buy at Toy Tokyo when I lived in New York, but to be honest, I would have traded them all for one of the original Kenner Blythe Dolls. It didn't matter that the Kenners usually had cut frizzy hair, chewed feet, rubbed off make-up, scuff marks and broken leg joints. They were the original doll, the muse to the new ones, made the year after I was born and I really, really, wanted one. To make matters worse, the ones that were in somewhat ok condition usually go for $1,000 or up on ebay and I just could never justify spending that kind of money. So began my search, or shall I say obsession with finding one. For years and years I wouldn't pass a box of moldy dolls without rooting through in hopes that she'd be there. I would answer ads that advertised 70's dolls and would end up at a doll collectors house looking at porcelain babies or Malibu Barbies with missing arms. I'd ask friends older sisters (or moms) if they had one stashed in the attic, go to auctions where old toys were advertised, check out the stuffed toy and doll sections at thrift shops, I would even make John sketch what she looked like to flea market vendors in hopes that they had one stashed in a shoe box. But the years passed and I never found one. Since she was only produced for one year, she's a pretty rare find. I didn't give up hope entirely, I stopped being so crazy/obsessive about finding her. Sure, I would still check out doll boxes, but I wouldn't get as upset when she wouldn't be there.
Last Saturday we woke up and I checked Craigslist to see if anything sounded appealing and there was an ad for a moving sale in the town over which included old camping gear, which John loves. As we walked towards the garage there was a box of old baby dolls and there, foot sticking out, was the rare, elusive Kenner Blythe doll. I was dizzy! It was the home owner's old doll from when she was a kid (not her daughters, who's pink & purple Barbie castle almost kept us driving) and I paid a dollar for her. She's still in her original outfit, and in pretty great condition. The feeling of shock, amazement and happiness stayed with me that entire day, and still has not faded, it probably won't for quite some time.
Second hand needlepoints, always found for a dollar or two, and always making us ask "why would anyone get rid of this?" From top: the coolest tennis racquet cover ever, from a church sale. Obviously for a plumber, or a tennis pro with a wandering pipe; a nice colorful glasses case; a so sweet gift from a grandmother featuring an 8-bit sized Jack Russell; an old Union Jack pincushion; floating mushrooms; a funny Gucci purse, from an estate sale in Old Orchard Beach; two blue willow pillows; an old Princetonian eyeglasses case; a pink-and-metallic pillow from 1974; and Harry Nilsson's The Point, memorized by John from when he was a kid and now cued up on the toy turntable in our soon-to-arrive son's room (who needs "hickory-dickory-dock" when you have "Me and my Arrow".)
Convertible coffee table, from the garage sale of one of President Ford's speechwriters a few years ago in Connecticut. In it's low position it's a 4 ft wide David Hicks-ian coffee table, but then the seats pull out and the legs spring down and it's a regular table. He said many nights they'd all play bridge on it, with White House cards and an ashtray from Air Force One. 
Reference Library/Stork Bites Man & South Willard join together like a Lego to present Shrimp Shop, which will likely be the coolest shopping experience you'll ever have with your kid. Happening from this Saturday with an opening bash at 2-4pm.
West German WESO ceramic tile stove, from a yard sale. When we finally got it's 440 pounds home and tried to bring it upstairs it crushed the first step, so the next 15 were not in the cards. But when we do finally install it it's going to heat our whole chalet, and we can even cook on it! (see pic). 
Designed by Herb Lubalin and illustrated by John Alcorn. The type treatment on the cover is great, but the case is awesome. It repeats on the back, then the endpapers are the same but the colors reversed. Two of the greats.
Linda and I will be at Longfellow Books in Portland Maine at 7 on Friday night to chat about our book over some wine and cheese
While going yard saling, flea marketing, or thrifting, John & I always have a mental list of certain things that if we're lucky enough to find them, it makes our day (vintage Dansk items, rare art books, cool 70's pendants), weekend (paintings, silkscreens, art pottery, ), month (Milo Baughman tables, Joe Colombo light), or possibly year (Eames lounge chairs with their matching ottomans, Pierre Paulin chairs). But there are some items that still elude us, making them even more desirable, as the more you can't have something, the more you want it. This is the case with trying to find a 1972 Kenner Blythe doll. I started looking for one about 8 years ago. I had a few (10++) of the reissued Takara Blythe dolls that I would buy at Toy Tokyo when I lived in New York, but to be honest, I would have traded them all for one of the original Kenner Blythe Dolls. It didn't matter that the Kenners usually had cut frizzy hair, chewed feet, rubbed off make-up, scuff marks and broken leg joints. They were the original doll, the muse to the new ones, made the year after I was born and I really, really, wanted one. To make matters worse, the ones that were in somewhat ok condition usually go for $1,000 or up on ebay and I just could never justify spending that kind of money. So began my search, or shall I say obsession with finding one. For years and years I wouldn't pass a box of moldy dolls without rooting through in hopes that she'd be there. I would answer ads that advertised 70's dolls and would end up at a doll collectors house looking at porcelain babies or Malibu Barbies with missing arms. I'd ask friends older sisters (or moms) if they had one stashed in the attic, go to auctions where old toys were advertised, check out the stuffed toy and doll sections at thrift shops, I would even make John sketch what she looked like to flea market vendors in hopes that they had one stashed in a shoe box. But the years passed and I never found one. Since she was only produced for one year, she's a pretty rare find. I didn't give up hope entirely, I stopped being so crazy/obsessive about finding her. Sure, I would still check out doll boxes, but I wouldn't get as upset when she wouldn't be there.
We wrote another guest post for Apartment Therapy, this time about the easy, gratifying aesthetic solutions 1x2 boards can offer your blank walls. Above is a photo I took behind the Shell Man, in Islamorada Florida earlier this year. The 1x2s are used to ship fragile coral and shells, then thrown away out back. If you're ever looking for wood for a project, check behind places like this, or places that have free pallets, since there could be packing crates there as well.
We'd never pass up a cool yard sale find just because it was designed with a child in mind, but lately we've been ramping it up (ramping=R.I.P William Safire) a bit since we'll be joined by our own child around Christmas.
