Paisley Park

I'm not sure what decade these paisley earrings are derived from, but I love the Jackie O style they evoke based on the turquoise and sea foam green colors alone. They're heavier on the ears than I normally like my "ornaments" to feel, but for a mere $2 at Founder's Crossing, I'm willing to sacrifice comfort for fashion. By today's standards, these enameled jewels are a nod to Lily Pulitzer Palm Beach preppiness; they even honor the bohemian/straitlaced dichotomy of Tory Burch; uptown Manhattan socialites will find that they pair well with Milly's line-up of modern, vintage threads. They're formal enough for a cocktail party aboard a yacht in Monte Carlo, yet casual enough for lobster roll hunting in Maine. Whatever the occasion, these are my go-to studs for effortless fashion in a flash.

-Dani

A cut above the rest

When you're rummaging through the shelves of antique goods at Founder's Crossing in Bedford, PA, it's effortless to snatch up an armful of trinkets you may have little use for: Victorian Valentine's Day cards filled with handwritten sentiments...cardboard pharmacy boxes that once held bespoke potions and broken hair combs dangling from their retro paper backing. The best tactic to take when shopping in such an overwhelming environment, when your senses are at their most vulnerable, is to hone in on that one big-ticket item you're drawn to the most. My prized find at Founder's Crossing is this stunning glass jar from the 1960s used at barbershops to disinfect combs and brushes. For just $27, it was worth the purchase. It's in near-mint condition and the stylish lettering is still bold in looks. The plunger inside is also just slightly tarnished. Displayed in a guest bathroom, it'll be sure to conjure up some pleasant gasps. Even without filling it with barbicide, it will still be a unique vehicle to house combs for overnight guests to choose from. Maybe the Donald should have these jars dispersed throughout his penthouse.

-Dani 

Clammy hands

This rusty sign is one of three hands that survived the 2004 demolition of the Clam Broth House, a seafood enclave in Hoboken, NJ, that first surfaced in 1899. Structural failures prompted city officials to order the destruction of the historic facade, but in 2010, the legendary restaurant reopened its doors. Today, fans new and old infiltrate the two-story establishment to cuddle around bowls of clam chowder, elongated lobster rolls and if they must, a handsome rack of lamb. Despite its obvious aging, the iconic hand still features timeless charm, with its rounded typography and the downward "c" and "l." I haven't dined at the Clam Broth House yet, but I hope the seafood fare warrants a round of applause.

-Dani 

The preppies

Why wouldn't you want to send your dashing young gents off to St. Peter's Prep for a fine pre-collegiate education? The imposing blocked letters festooned on the side of this Jesuit school in Jersey City spells out vintage style in the most academic of fashions. They evoke a roaring rah-rah feeling from a 1940s high school football game. Brains, brawn and boyish aesthetics...what more could you ask for from a good 'ole Catholic boy?

-Dani 

Splashing around

Get out your swimming trunks and two-piecers! With pool-side frivolity just around the bend, why don't you splash around with a tall glass of "Bathing Beauty" as your summer-time primer? The 1944 comedy drenched in Technicolor teams together vaudeville alumni Red Skelton and Olympics-bound champion swimmer Esther Williams as a pair of lovelorn characters unknowingly double-crossed by Basil Rathbone's character's greedy tactics. Subtle screwball humor abounds after a misunderstanding sends Williams's Caroline in a huff back to Victoria College to her swimming instructing roots while Skelton's Steve sacrifices all sense of decorum to relentlessly win her back. As an "interim" male student in the all-female school, Skelton's comedic timing is flawless as he pulls off physical "stunts" like twirling about in a tutu and popping in and out of a coat closet while sidestepping the wrath of a monstrous Great Dane. It won't be difficult to root for this naturally sweet character, not just for his pure whimsy or his lovesick tremors over Caroline, but for the camaraderie he unleashes among his classmates. Caroline is less winsome with her rigid attitude, but Williams's icy-tinged beauty makes for a convincingly cold-shouldered character you can't take your eyes off. 

The hysterical side characters also make this lovely musical a delight to sink into. You've got Carlos Ramirez as himself serenading a perturbed Caroline, Ethel Smith portraying a stereotypical spinster music teacher complete with goof ball expressions and Bill Goodwin playing a straight laced botany professor also enamored by the elusive swim teacher. As you near the end of the movie, you'll be treated to a tautly crafted scene that involves characters emerging out of a closet on a tandem bike and a wide-eyed girl peeking out from a blanket suspended from the ceiling. The innocent shenanigans prove that back then, directors merely relied on G-rated humor to draw out guffaws from the audience.



On top of all the clever comedy, the tightly woven music and choreography will prompt some foot tapping and head bobbing. This was the Big Band era after all, so expect several rounds of ear-shattering drumming and saxing (check out the clip above of Harry James and company belting out a tune). Be on the heels of one particular scene where a brigade of enthusiastic music students listens to the music teacher tap the keys and pedals of the organ to produce a hoppity tune that sounds comparable to the modern scores of today. And the fashion, oh the fashion! I love the students' khaki uniforms pulled together with a red kerchief and Williams's sequined black and white-striped dress that she flaunts during dinner. As expected, the directors capatilized on Esther's mermaid-like moves in the water - you'll be captivated by her diving acumen, her seamless strokes and her spotlighted performance during a choreographed nautical number. Though bathing suits were quite conservative in the 40s, Bathing Beauty will still inspire you to sculpt and tone your way to a two-piecer.


Photo Source: Wikipedia

-Dani

Get a leg up...again and again.

Once swishing around the legs of mod lasses in the '60s, billowy culottes made a comeback in 2004, competing seam to seam with its slimmer rival, capri pants. The casual trousers have made a splash again, at least witnessed in the latest catalog of Anthropologie. The classic navy blue pair as seen in the right gets a modern updo with a chunky belt, gauzy blouse and skyscraper wedges. Have culottes truly revived themselves for this still minty new decade or has Anthropologie just simply tacked on another romantic piece to its breezy, feminine line-up? Whether or not they're trendy again, culottes should be lauded for their sensibility and flexibility. Dust off that pair you've tucked away in your dressing room's corner then complement it with a ruffled top. Don't get lost in all that legroom, ladies.

Photo source: Anthropologie

-Dani

Billy Boy had tricks up his sleeves

"Dark Castle Entertainment" is not just any name arbitrarily stamped onto a film production company. The founding partners strategically chose this moniker to honor eccentric horror filmmaker, William Castle. Dark Castle revamped two of his heart-palpitating flicks, "House on Haunted Hill'" and "13 Ghosts" (re-spelled to "Thir13en Ghosts"), to contemporary pieces of horror. Ghoulish in expression and ominous in stature, Castle even looked like someone who was born to ingeniously direct scary movies. By today's standards, the special effects he deploys throughout his thrillers look rough-hewn, if not a bit "film school, 101." But back in the 50s and 60s, his peers and audiences considered such tricks of the trade as downright clever and convincingly frightful. Take, for example, the witch-faced housemaid "gliding" across the floor in "House on Haunted Hill," scaring the wits out of poor Nora Manning, the film's most naive character. Castle's intent is to give the appearance that the housemaid is floating in air. But her movements seem clunky and forced. A moviegoer of modern times would be inclined to speculate that the housemaid "glides" across the floor through the aid of a cooperative dolly. Nowadays, you can't help but view such a ploy as pure, campy fun, done Castle's way.

Horror movie buffs will smugly inform you that Castle's tricks took place live in the movie theaters, too. He became infamously known for incorporating gimmicks during the movie watching experience to beef up the terror factor and rev up audience participation. His novelty "tinglers" were like birthday party games for the creepy set. Compared to his film rivals, Castle was driven by quirky creativity and shock value. Over time, these movie shenanigans punctured the film budgets, prompting Castle to cut back on delivering these gimmicks per his financial backers. In "Strait Jacket", he dreamed up cost-effective tactics to keep the horrific thrills alive without sacrificing his funds: he sent star Joan Crawford on a promotional tour to theaters and carved out cardboard axes as favors to audiences. Below is a sampling of Castle's brilliant gimmicks, as directly lifted from Wikipedia. For a complete list, visit the William Castle page:

• The Tingler (1959): Filmed in "Percepto". In the film, a docile creature that lives in the spinal cord is activated by fright, and can only be destroyed by screaming. In the film's finale one of the creatures removed from the spine of a mute woman killed by it when she was unable to scream is let loose in a movie theatre. Some seats in theatres showing the Tingler were equipped with military surplus air-plane wing de-icers (consisting of vibrating motors) purchased by Castle, attached to the underside of the seats. When the Tingler in the film attacked the audience the buzzers were activated as a voice encouraged the real audience to "Scream - scream for your lives." Articles regarding this often incorrectly state the seats in the theatre were wired to give electrical jolts.
• 13 Ghosts (1960): Filmed in "Illusion-O". A hand held ghost viewer/remover with strips of red and blue cellophane was given out to use during certain segments of the film. By looking through either the red or blue cellophane the audience was able to either see or remove the ghosts if they were too frightening.
• Mr. Sardonicus (1961): In this gothic tale set in 1880 London a baron's face is frozen into a permanent grotesque hideous smile after digging up his father's grave to retrieve a lottery ticket left in the pocket of his father's jacket. The audiences were allowed to vote in a "punishment poll" during the climax of the film - Castle himself appears on screen to explain to the audience their options. Each member of the audience was given a card with a glow in the dark thumb they could hold either up or down to decide if Mr. Sardonicus would be cured or die during the end of the film. Supposedly, no audience ever offered mercy so the alternate ending was never screened.

Today, studios have interactive web sites and social media to serve as economical conduits in executing frightful tricks and priming would-be audiences for a gut-wrenching showdown. I shudder to think what kind of bone-chilling antics Castle would post on Facebook.

Photo source: The 500 Club