Red Chair Comes To Hudson!

Much to my delight, Red Chair Antiques, formerly of Peterborough, New
Hampshire, has moved to Hudson, New York.  Located at 606 Warren
Street, right in the heart of Hudson’s fabulous and famous antique district,
owner, Jocie Sinauer, has, once again created a stunning, dream-like feast
for the eyes.
Ken and I enjoyed a sneak peek yesterday, a day before her Memorial Weekend
opening. Somewhat larger than the lovely Peterborough store, this location has a
real Swedish farmhouse feel with its soft colors, two levels and rear courtyard.
The look is European-American-rustic-sophisticated-edgy-fresh and 100% chic.
jocie3
The photos here are of Jocie and her husband, David’s, Peterborough house
but give an idea of the treasures and treats to be expected at the new store.
Check out Jocie’s site, www.redchair-antiques.com for more.
All these photos are the property of:
Amy Azzarito of Design Sponge (wwwdesignsponge.com).

jocie8

Red Chair is only three blocks up from the Hudson Supermarket and it is

going to be fun having such a fabulous new store in the hood.  I highly

recommend that a visit be planned ASAP.

Red Chair on Warren

606 Warren Street,

Hudson, New York  12534

redchair-antiques.com

 

 

What Have I Been Doing?

For months I’ve been under the impression that, because of some changes in Picasa,
I could not post pictures in my blog.  I’ve missed it so much and have even stopped
taking photos except for those that I need for business.  Tonight I sat down to try
one last time and, somehow…magically,  it all fell into place.

Writing the blog has always been something I have done just to please myself,  kind
of  like keeping a journal.  I never really know if anyone sees me here and that is just
fine.  But, with no recent written record,  I wonder what exactly I have been
doing since the last time I posted.
 

Well, there’s this.
And this.
 

Does it look like Ken does all the really hard work?
It’s true.  It’s a well known fact that all I do is point.
And, he’s not just a pair of strong arms either.  His re-purposing skills are  legendary.
The lockers (above) are a case in point. (This, and many other items in this post,
are on offer at the Hudson Supermarket).
The industrial cart (above) will probably become a small sofa.
The factory table (above) is my most favorite Brimfield purchase. We will
let it sit outside so most of the grease can bake off.  The sun, a
bottle of purple stuff and some sand paper will turn this into a fabulous
honey color.

Another Brimfield favorite, an International tractor grill… soon to be
a piece of sculpture, with the addition of a wooden stand.
Oh, and more prizes!  The zinc tub,  sporting  just the right amount
of old white paint.  The two tall spool boxes leaning on the wall are
from the Scalamandre workshop.  The iron sign, “On the Avenue,”  is
made of pipe and full of holes.  It was originally attached to a gas line
and stood  in front of a Manhattan restaurant back in the days when
there were no rules prohibiting flaming signs on public streets.

Another of Ken’s beautiful pieces (above).
Oh, now I see some more Brimfield favorites.  The blue grey bench!  The French baskets:
goose, truffle, egg, feather, and a stack of 7 for rising bread dough.

One time, a friend said “oh Stephanie, EVERYTHING is your favorite!”
I cannot disagree as I look at this huge ball of string, big enough to
fill a chair, and think “it’s my favorite!”

And, just one last favorite…a grain-sack-covered friend, warming up in the best way
possible on a chilly Brimfield morning.
Looking back at what I’ve been doing for the last few months,  I have to think
it has been time well spent.

Farmer, Come Back!

Monsieur Dauteuil, the French farmer who sneaks into my computer in the middle
of the night to make things happen (see photo in 12-4-10 blog) has taken his sheep
and his pitch forks and his charming, pointy French hat and gone to a warm, sunny
climate. When he returns and does his magic French farmer thing, I will, once again,
be able to use my blog and insert photos and life will go back to normal.

Give Me Back Those Jugs!

We just doubled our size in the Hudson Supermarket and, while I

never really have enough room, this is so much better than before. 

Maybe in another few weeks, I’ll be complaining and expanding

again.  But, for now, I feel the luxury of space all around me.

 

The huge garage door (above), a gift from a friend,  is the perfect backdrop

for my forever-favorite colors of grey, blue-grey and white-grey.

     

And a good place to hang some of my  post-plumbing sconces and soap dishes.

The sun has set and, since I am finally free to look in the direction of my window

without squinting, I can see that going home is not on the agenda just yet.  I spot

a sign  (below…leaning on the trunk) and remember that I was so tempted to

change the name of my business, which relies so heavily on the redundancies

of farms and factories,  to “Hauled Away” after finding this quirky thing  mixed in

among some heaps in an old workshop. 

Below, a shocking blast of color for someone like me.  But I couldn’t resist the

make-do shelving (made from mid-century signs) found in an old family-owned

lumber yard in Massachusetts, a Farmhall tractor grill, a ship’s flag box (Ardith III)

and a  soapbox car tool box (Wheels).  I am pleased with this grouping and, while I

require the soft, pale, faded and peaceful shades at home, it is fun to see a primary

riot in my booth sometimes.

But, green!  All of a sudden it is all over my booth.  My long-standing indifference

to this color that (so they say) is perfectly lovely, stems from my first car. I was 19

and it was a 1960s clunker, which caused Ken’s brothers to fall all over themselves

laughing.  “Look! It’s a Nash Rambler! She’s driving a Nash Rambler! Whataya call

that color? Puke?”  Ok, so big deal, I was driving a Nash Rambler!  Although I’m

not so sure that “driving”  is the appropriate term for the starting, bucking and

stalling that actually took place on that very first day, and for many days

thereafter, as I learned to drive stick shift.  I got over the derision regarding my

Rambler’s lack of cool pretty quickly.  But the remarks about its color kind of

stuck.  The table (below),  however, is fit for a king, color not withstanding.

Architectural renderings (below), some one’s dream come true.  It is hard for me to

pull my eyes away from them, they are so charming.  I wish I could walk inside this

pretty 1930s-looking house to see what the rooms look like and the furnishings that

the lucky owners chose.  I want to watch “Mr. Blanding’s Dream House” or “Christmas

in Connecticut.”  These kinds of houses make me feel such nostalgia.

  

The mirrors (below) once were an old pair of double doors.  The gentleman’s

dressing room cupboard to the left of the mirrors has a hidden compartment for

stashing valuables and secrets.  The wonderful folky daybed, with its deep, cozy down

cushion, is freshly dressed in a vintage French postal bag cover.   Just add a purring

cat and a good book, please.

The toothy detail (below) and the old orange paint peeking from beneath the

charcoal color are just part of what makes me love this daybed so much.

An amoire full of  shelves (below)  is topped with a few of the polite gaggle

of geese that grace my booth without honking or leaving droppings.  They

really make me smile.  The base of the bench  was an old galvanized

commercial refrigeration shelf.  Topped with down and four-season wool,

there’s not even a hint of its icy past.

The trunk (below)  is covered with tan and brown striped linen and lined

with paper in blue and cream. It made its way around the world in those

long-ago days when the Grand Tour was not so unusual.

A cupcake stand piled with lavender bags and a drying basket full of Swedish

pillow covers keep the industrial worktable from being too manly.  A gray chair

(above) and navy blue ones (below)…..Phew! I’m back in my element.

Oh, no!  More green!  But, I couldn’t pass by the drop leaf with its beautiful,

but, sadly, unseen legs.  And, the bench…green, over red, over lots of other colors…

nobody says no to a sturdy bench, do they?

The worktable (below)  is one of my all-time favorites.  The funky leg set up!  

The curved drawers (why only two in such a long table? and why the

curves?)!   The honey-colored wood!  I really want to bring it back home.

I just love an early sofa.  They are way more comfortable in these modern times

with deep down cushions.  So good looking, too, with the French hand-rolled edges and

hand-covered button tufts.  All thanks to fabulous Jerry, the upholsterer to whom I owe

all praise and allegiance.

The thing that looks like a bike (below, left) is a saddle maker’s work station.

The worker sat on the seat and pedaled, making a saw blade go up and down

through the platform where  leather was cut into pieces for horse tack.  It

is wonderfully sculptural but I’m sure it could not have been so much fun

as a tool.

         

In my window is part of my collection of white jugs with blue writing.  The rest

are strewn around my space. I don’t know why I am selling them at this time.   

I like having big groups of things on offer and, as I was walking through the house

on the day we were bringing down the last load for the bigger space, I said “bring

those jugs!”  While I can’t say I’ve noticed they are gone from a house that is so full,

seeing the photos of them makes me want them back. 

Here are close-ups from some of the jugs.  Aren’t they beautiful?

    

This is making it harder. I may have to rush down to Hudson to reclaim what

is mine before some white-with-blue  jug-loving customer shows up.

  

If only I had had a collection of green jugs lying around on the day I said

“bring those jugs!”,  I could be relaxing right now, safe in the knowledge that

all is white in my world.

Bye Bye Christmas

All my old friends

wrapped in old paper

       

placed in old boxes

stored in the closet

for another year.

      

Again.

When I was three, I threw such a fit that our tree stayed up until April. 

The only way my parents could get rid of that tree was to set the alarm for

two in the morning and sneak it out of the house.  My father dragged it, like

a thief in the night, to some other neighborhood so I would not see it lying,

abandoned, on our curb. I smile to think of all the ways that my father, just

four years home from serving his country during World War 2, found so

much joy in pleasing me, a long-awaited only child.

 

Nowadays, the tree comes down half way through January.  Not because of

me, though.  It’s Ken who’s in such a hurry to get back to normal. And he

doesn’t set any clocks, either.  He just gets right up off the sofa and

announces that he is taking down the tree.  Just like that.  I concede, though,

when there are no more little cat throw-ups under the table, behind the

sofas, in all the hard-to-reach places, (the sorry result of long drinks of tree

water), that getting back to normal is not such a bad thing.

     

I keep some old favorites in bowls here and there but most are in

the closet.

And, even though I know it’s ridiculous (this is not a Raggedy Ann story,

after all), I wonder what they are doing all year.

And if they are as sorry as I am to see another Christmas pass by.

Let It Snow

Last year we had a very unusual winter in our little part of the north east.  Much to my

dismay, while friends everywhere else, even in Texas, sang “Let It Snow,” I kept

asking “where’s mine” ?

This year, though, the Farmer’s Almanac has kept its promise of a cold, snowy winter

and I am in my glory.

Every window calls me to gaze upon an otherworldly grey and white landscape.

If only they knew, my bees, asleep for now, would probably be so happy to be

missing this chilly day.

Tomorrow we are scheduled for another 12 inches.

The wind blows, the snow drifts. What’s left behind is art that no human

hand can match.

As snow inches its way to the top of my 4′ tall well cover,  I wonder if it can get any

prettier.

Another tall piece, this 5′ tall urn almost disappears from view before my eyes.

Watching the birds is a favorite activity at our house.  I am enthralled by the way our

diminutive friends puff up to keep warm.

Ken keeps a path cleared to the feeder.  Even though we know that these winter

birds don’t really need our contributions,  it feels good to think we are providing

a treat.  For us, the reward is huge as we watch a steady parade of fine-feathered

entertainers, tiny spots of color in an otherwise-monochromatic view.

The sun sets and dusk spreads purple over my white world, adding another rich layer

to my winter life.

Before and After

What a difference a day makes

24 little hours….

Oh, and a mantle and some antique furniture and some funky accessories.

24 hours is about how long it took for a wonderful 1927 Craftsman-style house

in Burlington, Vt. to go from ok to Oh Wow!

The 1920s mantle made all the difference. It took Ken a few hours to chip away

the existing brick surround and cut off parts of the mantle for a perfect  fit, then 

 splash on a coat of paint (or 3).

I couldn’t operate without an armload of German grain sacks,  piles of floppy

washed linen or my good friend, Jerry, the world’s best upholsterer.

And, where would I be without a few buckets of blue-grey paint?

I notice that, once again,  animals factor heavily in my decorating decisions.

And books! No one should be without them!

Books stack on shelves, fill baskets,

and line up waiting to be read or just to be admired.  Books add warmth to a

space like nothing else.

A day is not much compared to the  months and years of comfort and

 joy that those 24 little hours will provide.

Winter Walk…Hudson Style

On Saturday Ken and I had the extreme pleasure of attending Hudson’s  Winter Walk.

We started the night in the same way we start everything we do in Hudson, with

something delicious from chef extraordinaire Chris Hebert, whose cafe is right in the

back of the Hudson Supermarket where we have our antique show space. Next, with

the idea of walking off some of our desert, seeing the sights and, for me, the chance

to get some photos, we headed out into the street just in time for the most charming

handmade parade.

    

 

Music was everywhere.

We wondered how those musicians performing outside could make their fingers  

work on this 30 degree night.

You know what else was everywhere? Dogs!

Hudson is a dog-loving town and there were almost as many bowls of water on

the sidewalks outside of shops as there were tasty people treats inside.

 

Move over Amsterdam! We’ve got the windows!

  

The hula-hooper, belly dancers, balloon-twisting clown and ballerina worked it

without a break and drew admiring crowds all night.

      

Windows,  fine…..

 

funky….. 

 

and Dickensian.

But, what happened here? The bad monkey wrecks the joint and then just sits there

contemplating a piece of broken crystal while in the background, a bird, obviously

an accomplice, flies around doing who knows what on the carpet.  I just love this

totally unexpected Christmas crisis window.

Below:

Our first stop was at 3Fourty Seven. As soon as you see The Chandelier, you know that

these people are not afraid to say who they are. Housed in a big old garage, this place has

Bold! written all over it.

  

They just opened, but with their ecclectic mix of modern, factory, textiles and oddball

artwork that just works, I know they will be enjoying a long, successful run.

  

They are a super-friendly group of architects, set designers and style-makers. Check

them out at 347 Warren Street. 518-291-4780.

www.3FourtySeven.com.        info@3FourtySeven.com.

  

 

Below:

Next, we headed into Hudson Home.  Again, we were met by friendly smiles and given a

tour of the beautiful shop with its stylish, comfortable-looking  furnishings, plush bedding

and unusual accouterments.

     

And, again, dogs! I wasn’t kidding when I said Hudson is a dog town. A dramatic orange

room sports a few dozen photos of white-framed white dogs and the theme of orange

and dogs is carried out on the table of Christmas decorations and in the two

Chi Chi Chi Chia-looking poodles in the front window.

Be sure to ask about the unusual modern fireplace and the checkerboard rug.

  

It is no surprise that Hudson Home just had a nice blurb in Vogue.   356 Warren Street.

518-822-8120. www.hudson-home.com.     richard@hudson-home.com.

   

Below:

And then there’s Kosa! The home of organic, recycled, green, indie clothing and jewelry.

Even when time is not on our side, my friends and I stop here. I go straight to the

legwarmers, fingerless gloves, spats and skirts all made from vintage sweaters by

Oh Deer.

    

My friends, all artists, like the indie clothing and would love the coat being modelled 

by the accommodating customer below. I hope she bought it because it looked pretty

great on her.    502 Warren Street. 528-828-6620. www.kosa-co.net.

      

Below:

Hudson and Mark Wasserback. Mark Wasserback and Hudson. These names are

synonymous. Mark’s Antiques has been around for as long as I can remember and,

luckily, some things just never change. The inventory is crazy, edgy and heaped to

the rafters in any old higgledy-piggledy way. But don’t be fooled. This stuff is 

fast-moving and it’s not the kind of place where you should say “I’ll think about it”

and then wander off to lunch.

     

The photo on the right (above) is of a section of a fabulous 8′ x 5′ table top that Mark

had made from metal printer’s plates.

  

So many disparate things to see, like the wooden Madonna, above, and the

aluminum light fixture, below.

 

Below, a divine blue-gray tack cupboard that I really love.  Apparently,

and for reasons not understood by either Mark or me, alfalfa was placed in

the top part of the cupboard. Something to do with cleaning the tack.  I did

go home…happy!…with the factory board in the photo on the right, below.

     

Mark’s factory presentation of party snacks induced me to step away from my

no-sugar routine long enough to enjoy one or two cookies.   612 Warren Street.

528-701-5382.       wass1@nycap.rr.com.

   

But, there’s more!  At the back of Mark’s store, steps, like a stairway to heaven,

lead to another of Hudson’s long-standing gems: Larry’s Back Room.

 Chock full of treasures, some traditional

period pieces, some not traditional at all, you’d need some time to poke around

in here.

 

I spotted a pair of  tall silver factory molds that, to me, are just begging to

be wine tasting tables. Larry’s walls are lined with collections, backed with

burlap, interestingly mounted and accurately labelled.

  

 612 Warren Street.  528-248-2643.      Lforman1@nycap.rr.com.

At this point, Ken, who had been really patient while I took almost 300 photos and

talked a blue streak, looked like he was getting weary.

So we headed back to the Hudson Supermarket…..

to check up on our space….

straighten the grain sacks…

and the mountain of lavender bags…

and the big pile of pagent wings I brought in to sell…

and to watch the fireworks that call an end to a very happy night.

Back In The Fold

My French farmer (pictured below) crept into my computer during the night

and fixed my comment feature.  Merci, Monsieur Dauteuil.

So, if anyone is moved to say something to me, please do!  I would love to hear it!