Darn It

Thrift shopping often means finding great old stuff only to discover that the reason someone got rid of it is because it's damaged in some way. Combine that with the damage the wool moths can do to your old clothes in your old closet in  an old house, and you frequently wind up dealing with little imperfections like the one pictured above. 

I found this knockout tartan jacket back in March, and it's been waiting patiently in the storage closet since then. I don't remember whether this little hole was there when I bought it, but it doesn't really matter. As I drag it out of the closet and think about how great it will the two, maybe three times, I wear it this Winter, I need to decide how to deal with that pesky little hole. 1/8 inch may not be much, but it's enough.

Lots of times, with holes this small, of it's only one or two, I just live with it. Densely patterned jackets like this one or natty tweeds tend to hide a little hole well enough. If it were elsewhere in the jacket, I might not even care. But this one's right up front.

Of course, the best option here would be reweaving, where an expert would take thread from a hidden spot on the coat to actually reweave the missing part. It's very difficult work, magical even, that can only be performed by an expert specialist. It's also extremely expensive. As great as this coat is, I don;t think I can justify the expense. So, instead, I'll just darn the hole. A trip to the local sewing machine store for a spool f bright red thread, a sharp, thin, needle, and we're set.

A few careful passes with the needle, not pulling the stitches too tight, and the hole is much improved. Not perfect by any stretch, but definitely better and less noticeable from only a few feet back. I often talk here about a lack of money not being a hindrance to having the good stuff, but sometimes you do have to make the best of what you've got.

Besides, in writing this, I realize that it might not be such a bad idea to have my tailor attach a black velvet collar to it, and find and excuse to wear it with a tux, brass buttons and all. Now that would be something.

p.s. my apologies for the sparse posting lately. Technical difficulties should hopefully be remedied tomorrow.

Preppies, Hippies, and Bikers

Turns out, there was a store on old Route 1 in Massachusetts that managed to successfully cater to all three seemingly divergent groups. This tartan blazer, found recently at a thrift shop for $5.99, led me down a path to find this out:

 A real knockout, though I should probably wait until next holiday season to wear it. Nicely woven wool in very vibrant colors with brass buttons. I've become pretty good by now at dating old clothes, but this one is tough. My inclination is to sat 1960s, but the two button darted front makes me think its later than that. No matter, it's a great jacket whenever it may have been made.

Ah! Austin Hill. That's quaint. Internet homework turned up nothing on this brand, but it was made in USA, another indicator of it's likely age, sadly.

Here's the funny part. The Deerskin Trading Post no longer exists. I think it closed some time in the 90s. My wife and I both have memories of it being the sort of place that sold biker fashions. This sort of thing was quite popular in Eastern Massachusetts back in the 80s and 90s, especially North of Boston, where this place was. Think leather vests and engineer boots for men, and really awful high waisted, acid wash jeans for women. Certainly not things like a tartan blazer.

When I asked my parents about it, they had a memory more of a place that sold native American stuff to hippies back in the late 60s and early 70s, things like popover shirts with rawhide lacing at the neck, knee high moccasin boots, and lots of fringe, turquoise and silver. Certainly not tartan blazers.

Poking around a bit led me to find this old mail order catalog from the early 1960s, over at the Hagley digital archive. Careful when you click that link, it will consume half your day. Here we see a version of Deerskin Trading Post that reminds me a little more of old school L.L. Bean.

This was a place that sold fine driving gloves for ladies,

as well as some pretty current looking hand-sewn moccasins. Call this old school New England, I guess.

Something for the kids...

something for the house chef...

and something to do with your sons Cub Scout troop when it's your turn to host.

Suddenly it doesn't seem so incongruous that this place once sold a tartan blazer for Dad. Nor does it seem so incongruous that it would evolve to appeal to hippies and later, bikers. Too bad they couldn't have stuck it out a little longer. They might have made a killing in the days of the combined preppy revival, rise of the urban lumberjack, and heritage Americana obsession, all of it in Massachusetts no less. Can't you just see this on A Continuous Lean? At the very least, it would probably have been a pretty cool place to shop.

p.s. new stuff in the Shop.