The Photo Album

I don't know what came over me, readers.  At the flea market on Sunday I did something unprecedented and wholly in conflict with my new decluttering rules.  I purchased somebody's lost/discarded photo album.  And what an album it is!

It's not like I don't have family photo albums of my own; I do -- but they're nothing like this.  No, friends, this was the family album I wish I had, full of beautiful people living the high life with fabulous personal style.  I simply had to have it. 

I put the time around 1962; there are a lot of blanks (obviously).  Perhaps we can fill them in together.



Look at these women.  Look at those clothes, that pool, that house.  These are not models, my friends, they are real people.  Or the cast of The Graduate.
 
They played tennis at the club.



They had a maid straight out of Central Casting.



Beautiful dresses and plenty of cocktail parties.  When I was growing up we threw no cocktail parties, though there might have been the odd Jello mold buffet.  We owned no poodles.



They traveled to exotic places.



They lay about on the beach.





And they drank...



and drank...



and drank!



Who are these people and whatever became of them?  How did this most personal of possessions, the family photo album, end up on a grimy flea market table surrounded by piles of old brassieres (I resisted), moldy lavender sachets, and yellowed Playboy magazines?

There's more here, and I'll take better photos at some later date; this album merits more than one blog post, don't you think?

NOTE: If this is your family's album please email me directly along with some identifying information -- what is Aunt Gladys wearing poolside on Page 3 and what is she drinking? -- and I will see it gets to you, C.O.D.

Meanwhile, back in reality (or its MPB equivalent) my fifties Simplicity cocktail dress is coming along swimmingly.

I finished the skirt and most of the bodice yesterday and just need to attach them.  Then I'll start the matching jacket.  I am loving this dress.









Little mistake with the serger knife there; cost me a good hour and a half.  Whoops!



In closing friends, did you have cocktail parties growing up?  Did your entire family wear coordinating pastels?  Can somebody fix me a Vodka Stinger?

Have a great day everybody!