Repurposed & Renewed: 1920s/30s Deco Style Oak Dining Chair

This '20s/'30s dining chair has good bones,
but needs a little love...

So many times I've passed by a chair at a flea market, ratty but with good bones, and thought, "If only that was reupholstered, it would be fantastic." I toy with the idea of an upholstery class with grand visions of myself picking up old Edwardian reading chairs at a steal, recovering them and returning them to their former state of furniture gloriousness.

While that is still at this point a junker's future dream, I have gotten quite adept at basic dining chair seat reupholstery. I've done a couple more complicated ones that wrapped around the wood, but really love best the simple dining chair seats that you pop out, recover and presto, the chair starts to sing again!

Case in point: this lovely '20s/'30's dining chair that I got for a bargain £10 at the charity shop. Tucked away, lonely in the corner of the tiny men's section, it didn't have a price tag on it, but when I asked they said, yes, it was for sale. It was £15 but if I wanted it I could have it for £10.

Yes please!

The chair is of sturdy, traditional oak, but has some really lovely deco details like the curved carving of the back panel and the rolled edges of the legs in the front. Also the side rails of the seat frame have a slight, purposeful bow to them, bending a little as if to blend with the contour of its human sitter.  Not necessary for functionality but a lovely touch.

The only problem? The nasty pleather seat covering. Ugh.

Handy canine "helper" optional.

But, luckily, as "restorations" go, this is one of the easiest fixes. A bit of sturdy fabric, a hammer or screwdriver to pull out old nails and staples, and a staple gun to hold everything new on and you're set!  Let the renovation commence!

First, the seat came out easily. Sometimes they're screwed in, but in this case the seat was snugly fitted sans screws into the frame.

Next up is deciding whether to keep on the existing fabric or not. If the original fabric is just threadbare and of nicer quality, I do sometimes leave it on the chair to give it an extra layer and to help hold the padding together. In this case, as its current fake leather covering was slippery and could cause the new fabric to wear strangely, it had to come off.

Yanking the fabric off with the nails still in
the wood...remove as many as possible before continuing

If I know that I don't want to keep the old fabric, as in this case, I usually just rip the old seat covering off and then pick out the upholstery tacks later. You do want to remove as many of the tacks or nails that you can as those could snag or weaken your fabric.  If you want to keep the original fabric, carefully pick out the tacks as best you can with a hammer end or screwdriver.

Once that's done, lay the seat down face up and drape your new fabric over the padding. Take the time to place the fabric on the seat exactly as you want the pattern to fall on the chair when finished. Then carefully turn everything over so the fabric is face down.

Pull the fabric taut before stapling to make sure you
keep out any bunches or wrinkles

The rest now is more or less like wrapping a package. On one of the longer sides, place a staple or two in the center of the bar. Then, on the opposite side of the frame, pull the fabric taut and add staples there. Do the same thing for the two other sides of the frame.

At this point, pick up the frame and do a quick check on the "front" to make sure the fabric looks like it's laying well and there are no buckles or loose bits. This is your chance to pick out a couple staples and start over if you're not happy, but if all looks good, turn the frame back over.

Knowing that everything looks good on the front, I now usually trim excess fabric from around the edges. I leave a couple inches still for safety, but I cut off anything more than that in order to keep the bulk out of the way.  Continue stapling the sides. Each you staple, first pull the fabric taut to make sure you're keeping everything smooth. Not too hard, but keep it nice and firm.  Staple all the edges until about 3" from each corner.

The corners can be tricky and each chair seat varies based on its shape. I've done varying folds depending on the chair, but each time I do a corner they end up slightly different.  I can't offer a great professional technique here as I tend to just wing it, but do decide ahead of time where you want the corner seam to be and then start folding, again like a package or origami, until you get it nice, clean corner.

Step 1: Pull taut and staple

That said, generally I do what I would call a two fold corner. 

First, pull one side out and flat and staple the inside securely (step 1).

Second, fold back the other side halfway and staple (step 2). 

Step 2: Fold halfway and staple

Finally fold the second side all the way over and staple (step 3).  It should give you a nice, relatively clean corner.

Some chairs you might want to use decorative upholstery tacks if the corners will be visible, but for an inset chair seat like this, a basic neat corner stapling will do nicely.

Step 3: The final fold and staple

When the corners are done, trim any more excess material from around the edges, if there is any left, to make sure that there won't be trails of fabric hanging down underneath the chair when the seat is replaced. Turn it back over and hurrah!  Your new, lovely, upholstered seat is done!

A use for your orphan socks!

As this chair had been sitting in the corner gathering dust and seemingly quite lonely, I decided to give it a nice coat of beeswax. Using a leftover sock, I generously applied it over the chair, especially rubbing it in in places where the finish seemed worn.

Think of beeswax as shoe polish for furniture...you don't want to cover it with big glops of goo, but you do want to give it all a nice, even layer. Let it dry for a little bit - I usually leave it about 30 minutes - then with another clean sock buff the beeswax off.  Beeswax is great because it's not tinted and leaves just the smallest of shines.  It's not intended to make the wood seem highly polished or sparkly, but simply to protect it and make the wood look healthier.

Finally, pop the seat back in and see your "new" old chair sparkle!

Now that's a beauty!

Treasure Hunt: Vintage Arabia of Finland Dinner Plates

Treasure Hunt: A pair of vintage
Arabia of Finland dinner plates

A huge part of the fun and excitement, for me, of strolling through antique stores and charity shops is the idea, the hope, and once in a juicy while, the reality of stumbling across an item priced at a steal that you know is worth a lot more...especially when other people obviously don't.  Case in point:  these two Arabia of Finland vintage dinner plates.

As the daughter of a native Finn, I grew up around various Finnish brands, all well known in Finland but some more obscure elsewhere than others.  Iittala, Hackman, Marimekko, Aarikka, Fiskars and Arabia were both the wares of the everyman and also the fine glass, kitchenware, cloth and clothing, jewelry, scissors and cutlery, and dishware (respectively) that you collected and coveted.  Not to mention Nokia.  I had Nokia rubber boots as a child - yes, that Nokia...it started off as a rubber factory.  But I digress...

To me those brands are second nature and I know their collectable value, but to many people in old Blighty, Arabia plates are no more special than the ones you get at Sainsbury's or Target.

And because of that, I nabbed a bargain!

These two vintage Arabia plates were at the local charity shop for £0.99 each!  That's right, folks.  £1.98 for the two, the equivalent of about $3.50!!

So what?

Well, most Arabia plates, even modern ones in the junk shops in Finland, rarely get sold for less than few euros each.  If you look on eBay, most vintage ones sell at least in the £10-£20 range for a single plate.  Obviously they go for more depending on the pattern and the style.  Arabia made both basic, work horse plates for daily use and fine china, so the prices will significantly vary. 

Arabia of Finland maker's mark - used from 1964-1971

While I have not been able to identify the pattern specifically, there have been various factory maker's marks Arabia has used over its 139 years and the one stamped on the back of these plates dates from 1964 to 1971.  The style and shape of the plates appears to coincide with that date as well.  There is a rice grain-sized firing mark in one of the plates - a small flaw on the plate that occurred in the kiln during the firing process.  You know it's a firing mark because it's under the original glaze, not a flaw that happened afterwards.  But otherwise both plates are in very good condition.

In recent years, some of the main Finnish brands, including Fiskars, Hackman, Iittala and Arabia, have joined forces and become part of the Fiskars Group conglomerate.  The lines that used to define the brands have somewhat blurred - you'll now find Iittala cutlery as well as glass and Arabia glassware as well as dishes, but the group's quality is maintained.  For someone who's into modern, Scandinavian design, all of these brands are worth a second look.

And definitely worth my £2!

Treasure Hunt: 1930's Still Life Watercolor

I live in a dangerous part of Bath.  Oh, not the way you'd think.  The crime rate is low.  It's quiet and peaceful and the worst felonies in this part of the city are some of the outfits you see the students wearing on a Friday night out on the town. No, I live in the dangerous part because I live around the corner from two of the best charity shops in the city.  I walk out to the grocery store or a restaurant and can't restrain myself from popping in to see what new treasures they have for sale.  It's good for the soul but bad for the wallet.

Today was no exception.

Treasure Hunt: Want some fruit?

This afternoon on the way to meet some friends I picked up this lovely watercolor for £9.99 (about $15).  While I'm not normally attracted to still lifes, I really love watercolors.  In this case in particular I love the workmanship and clear skill of the artist.  I particularly like the way the light glistens off the corner of the jug and the detailed coloring of the apples.  And, as I'm a sucker for anything from the '20s and '30s, I was a gonner when I realized it was signed signed "G.O. Palmer 1930".

Sold!

Oddly enough, I just read a small column in Homes & Antiques Magazine this afternoon about how still lifes are out of fashion and commanding much lower prices than in the past, but that they're likely to increase.  It's difficult to value this one, though I can imagine it's at least worth the price I paid.  I found some still lifes by a "G. Palmer" that have sold Christie's in the hundreds of pounds, but without pictures of the art and the signature on those it's difficult to detetrmine if it's the same artist.  If anyone reading has a suggestion where to find out, please send me a note!  He could be a nobody or he could be from the family of the Palmer Baronets.  Who was this obviously talented artist?

The mystery is almost as enjoyable the painting itself....

Treasure Hunt: Vintage Embroidered Pillowcases

This lovely lady is a mixture of quilted pieces
and hand sewn applique...fantastic!

While I love the crisp, clean lines of an all white bedroom, I have a hard time resisting big, bold colors.  One of my favorite blankets is a vibrantly colored vintage quilt given to me by a friend that he no longer wanted but that I completely coveted.  So trying to find an appealing mix of bright colors and sparkling white been a bit of a challenge, but I've come up with one great solution:  vintage embroidered pillowcases and linens.  The cheerful, lovingly executed handiwork combined with soft, good quality cotton appeal to both the crafter and the collector in me.  Vintage cotton, before the days of blends and polyesters, has a wonderful, comfy feeling that I personally feel would be hard to beat in even the highest Egyptian thread counts. 

Vintage Embroidered Pillowcases:  Who Needs Ikea?

Today out at the Sunday flea market in Green Park in Bath I nabbed this matching pair for a measly £5 (about $7.50).  When a basic pair of colored pillowcases at Ikea cost £3, I was pretty pleased.  And also pleased I negotiated £1 off the asking price.....I not only love a bargain...but also love to bargain!

With this particular set I loved that there was plenty of detail and color, but not in a fussy, grandmotherly kind of way.  I also loved the clean but detailed design. 

Something to look for when buying vintage embroidered linens is whether the work is handmade or machine made.  I believe this set is machine made, because of the consistency of the stitching and the way the threads were finished on on the backside. I have other hand-embroidered pillowcases - if you look closely you can see slight inconsistencies in the needlework that show they're handmade.  Knowing something is handmade definitely can add to the charm, but it also can add to the price.  It's good to know the difference so you get what you pay for.

When buying vintage pillowcases do keep an eye out for the size.  Just as people were smaller "back then" so were the pillows.  Some older pillowcases are of a slightly smaller size than our jumbo-sized modern pillows, so watch for that.  Also watch for stains and other unsightly blemishes.  Some can be bleached out, but marks and stains from regular use are likely to be permanent.

 

Ideally, they'll look like these...the pillowcases someone kept in the cupboard, with the good china, for the day when the Queen came to visit.  Which, in most cases, means they're in pristine condition.

Treasure Hunt: Vintage Kodak Camera Lens

Samples of my junk:  Vintage wooden clock casing and
antique weights that adorn my mantlepiece

I'm a known collector of junk.  And when I say junk, I mean *junk*.  I love the quirky, charming, and often aesthetically pleasing nature of weird and wonderful industrial wares, cast off architectural bits and other pieces of miscellany that would probably go into the garbage bin if it wasn't for me collecting them on shelves. I have many times over been inspired by Sue Whitney and Kai Nassauer's book Junk Market Style and love getting the chance to repurpose, reuse or simply reconnect with something odd and quirky.

Today's boot sale treasure initially was bought to fit that bill.  For a whopping 50 pence (approximately 75 cents U.S.) I purchased a vintage Kodak camera lens.  About an inch in diameter with thick glass lenses, it felt heavy for its diminutive size.  I liked the way it felt and looked and thought it might be a fun addition to my pile of curiosities. 

Today's Treasure:  The Kodak Anastigmat f-6.3/127 mm lens

But as my father used to collect, and has a large collection of, vintage Kodak Brownies and box cameras, I thought I'd take a look on Google to find out more about it and then check on eBay to see if it had any possible value.  Lo and behold, it turned out to be a find!  Made at best guess in the '30s, the lens was for specialized photography, either for professionals or strong amateurs.  This particular one, a f stop 6.3, 127 millimeter lens, seems to be not very common.  A similar one is listed, set into the shutter, on eBay for a whopping $124.99 (£80.50!).  While my little lens is by no means worth that much, it was definitely a bargain of a treasure purchased for only pocket change!

Now the decision will be can my impulse buy make enough on eBay to make parting with it worthwhile or would I rather just keep it on my shelf of junky treasures, another conversation piece?  Tough decisions....