Random acts of paper

Lately, I've been lucky to receive terrific paper donations from friends. The gifts have ranged from vintage greeting cards and stacks of savings stamp booklets to strips of vintage wall paper and dozens of vintage paper dolls.

The circa 1952 birthday boy on the tag above came from a box stuffed with treasures that Cincinnati Enquirer TV/radio/media reporter/critic John Kiesewetter had carried around in his trunk for months. The material was lovingly and selectively packed up from his late father's home. 

A zippered linen bag crammed with savings stamps came courtesy of Barbara Henshaw, who had seen my highly-organized stash in the studio, as well as the Mad Women collages in which savings stamps play a prominent role. I'm just starting new Mad Women pieces, so the stamps arrived at a perfect time.

Speaking of Mad Women, I just finished some new tags, above, that are Mad Womenesque and that include some of the vintage wallpaper that graphic designer, printer, Seed Bomb entrepreneur and blogger Maya Drozdz dropped off last week. They'll be turning up in some larger pieces, too.

Finally, there are the 1960s-era paper dolls that marketing wiz Mary Lynn Tangi gave to me a few months ago. They're now on the work table - those are three of the four, singing Lennon Sisters above - and will be starring in the new Mad Women collages. It was easy to tell by how carefully the dolls had been stored - with clothes, accessories, original books - that Mary Lynn cherished them. 

I find it fun giving new life to just about any paper, but there's an extra layer of satisfaction when the paper comes from people I know.

Mad Women: There Was No More Penny PinchingNow That Helen Was The Primary Breadwinner

I'm on another Mad Women tear. Something about the coming holidays inspired me to add more collages to the series, which tweaks 1950s stereotypes about women. Note the festive red-and-green color scheme supplied by the vintage trading stamps and recycled coin wrapper. The green background behind the couple was in the original illustration from an ad in Ladies Home Journal and blended so well with the stamps that I decided to keep it. 4.75" x 4.75" on archival mat board. (SOLD)

Mad Women: Margie Considers Her Options

When I spotted the ad for revolvers in an early 20th century woman's magazine I was taken aback by its placement in the magazine and by its strident message that not only should "ladies learn to shoot" but that their daughters should, too. I knew I had to use it in a piece and once the Mad Women series began developing, well, it was a natural. What I like best about "Margie" is how happy she looks as she mulls over ways to stick it to the man rather than ways to stick savings stamps into books. 6.5" x 4.5" on acid-free watercolor paper. [SOLD]

Mad Women: Betty was fed up

I've started a series titled Mad Women that's a departure from my usual Victorian-centric work. It was spurred by three great finds: 1940s & '50s sewing catalogs; 1940s women's magazines; and Top Value trading stamp books. My East Coast family was strictly S&H green stamps, so these were new to me.

Happily, I came across some S&H books, too, and acquired more via my thrifty friend Betsa Marsh. She told me she relied on them to acquire appliances and other goods in the early days of her marriage. She kept the ones she hadn't traded in after they were discontinued hoping they'd make a comeback. (Given the economy, it's surprising they haven't.)

The "No" is a piece of a clever "do not disturb" sign that I knew I'd walk off with the moment I saw it on the hotel room door.  6.5" x 4.5" on acid-free watercolor paper (SOLD)