Mid-Century Modern Christmas Decorations—in The Ranchos!

Ah, the holidays. A time for giving thanks, for gift-giving (and getting), for spending time with friends and family and for . . . mid-century-modern Christmas décor! Oh, man. I just love it. Can’t get enough of it, really. Partly because I only get to see it for a few short weeks. But, oh, how it tickles me every time I look at it. And this, our first Christmas in our Cliff May Rancho? It doesn’t get any better than this.

Personally, I like my vintage Christmas decorations to have a nice mix of kitsch and class. Don’t get me wrong. I love that overly cutesy 1950s Christmas vibe. But I try to hold back, lest I end up with a look that’s taking the house on a trip straight to Tackyville, if you get my drift. And I know you do. 

Right now, in terms of Christmas décor, I’ve got a couple of things that I’ve had for awhile, some I’ve just picked up, one family heirloom and one modern piece with vintage appeal. And the pièce de résistance: a vintage aluminum Christmas tree. With a color wheel. But you already guessed that, didn’t you? 

So it’s time, dear readers, for me to introduce you to my collection, of which I am oh, so proud. As my first-ever journalism professor advised, I’m ready to “show, not tell.” Ready? Here goes. 

First, please meet our fabulous Christmas stockings, which we’ve hung by the chimney with care. Since we don’t have a mantle, we figured a swag of old-fashioned garland (from Target) would do. I actually made these babies by hand from vintage kits I scored on eBay over the years. 

 

The kits are from Edna Looney—my favorite of the craft-kit makers back in The Day. I found the “Dad” kit first and spent the next several years searching for the “Mom” kit that matched it. Once those were complete, I thought it only fair that our toy poodles, Sophie and Bailey, should have stockings too, so I looked for appropriate Edna Looney stocking kits for them, found two, and made the stockings up. Great, aren’t they?

 

Beneath the stockings sits a little fella I featured in an earlier post—a beautiful ceramic centerpiece in the shape of a golden ram. (Or is he a sheep?) Anyway, I filled him with vintage red Shiny Brite ornaments. I think he adds a touch of class to the whole arrangement. You?

 Here’s a recent find—a vintage Holt-Howard cookie jar I scored at the Long Beach Salvation Army a few weeks ago for only three smackers! Judging by the look of him and by the label, I’m guessing he’s from the 1960s. He’s supposed to be Santa, I think. Whoever he is, I just love him. And he looks great on our recently completed kitchen island next to the acrylic grapes and Rosenthal-Netter pottery. 

Next to my cookie jar sits two little candle holders in the shape of carolers—one playing a lute and the other with a lyre. No markings on these guys save “Made in Japan” stickers. So cute, no?

Next, I’d like to share something close to my heart—a Danish modern crèche that belonged to my mother. My earliest childhood memories at Christmastime include this piece being displayed in our home. I find it so beautiful—so elegant in its simplicity. I always loved it, so my mother gave it to me when I was in my 20s. I will always cherish it.

I also have a modern crèche—a “Presepe” Italian porcelain nativity scene from A di Alessi, which was designed by Massimo Giacon. 

My fabulous interior stylist, The Divine Victor Underhill, placed this crèche on the Danish modern credenza in our rumpus room next to our wrought-iron clock, which evokes a cathedral. (Genius!) I love this piece. So playful. So modern. It’s still available, if you’d like your own.

 These pretty little papier-mâché angels were a gift from my mother-in-law, Peg. I love their Danish modern look, don’t you? They fit right into our décor. Sadly, the year she gave them to us, our poodles were pups, and one of them decided to chew on one of these angels, so she’s got a few teeth marks. (The angel, not my mother-in-law) She’s still pretty, though, so we continue to proudly display both every year.

Last but not least [[drumroll]] . . . our vintage aluminum Christmas tree! This is our second such tree. The first one . . . well . . . it’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it some time. 

This tree’s better than the first, though, because it’s one of the rare examples with various-sized branches. Most aluminum trees have branches that are all one size, but the angle of the holes drilled into the center pole changes to give the illusion of an overall cone shape. It’s not a terribly effective illusion, if you ask me.

 Our pretty tree is decorated in vintage ornaments—mostly my favorite Shiny Brite—picked up on eBay and at estate sales. It makes me happy every time I look at it. It’s got a temporary tree skirt from Target underneath it. I’ve had a vintage kit for a tree skirt for years that I need to complete, but I’m intimidated by it and haven’t made it yet. Maybe next year?

Something Old is New Again: Repurposing a Vintage Pendant Lamp



Photo by Thomas Underhill. Interior Styling by Victor Underhill

 





Sometimes when you’re faced with a vintage piece that isn’t working for your space, the best thing to do is change things up. Case in point: Our Danish modern pendant lamp.




Lamp in its original configuration as seen in our old house

 

Here’s a photo of the room where our lamp used to live, and it looked great in that space. As you can see, the fixture consisted of a beautiful, horizontal piece of walnut, from which three hand-blown glass pendants were suspended, the center one a bit lower than the others. Try as we might, we couldn’t make this lamp work with the slanted ceilings in our Cliff May Rancho. Its horizontal configuration just didn’t look right.

Disclaimer: We don’t necessarily advocate molesting vintage furniture, décor and artwork, which we compare to cutting up a Picasso and using it for a decoupage project. But this poor lamp had already been through the proverbial ringer. My husband broke the middle pendant by slamming into it with his head (ouch!) when we were in the process of moving out of our last home. We had the pendant replaced by a talented glassblower, Josh Gelfand of Revolution Glass Studio in El Segundo, who did a marvelous job of reproducing the broken shade. So while the lamp looked beautiful again, it was no longer original. This made the decision to change its configuration from horizontal to vertical a bit easier for us. Here’s how we pulled it off.

First, we ordered a pendant fixture from Modernica. It’s designed to suspend George Nelson bubble lamps, but we figured it would work well for our project. We knew where we wanted the lamp to go: in the northeast corner of the room we’ve dubbed “The Salon,” where it would look marvelous from every angle, including looking in from outside on the patio.




Interior stylist The Divine Victor Underhill

 

Our interior stylist, The Divine Victor Underhill, was the brains behind this project. He determined exactly where on the ceiling the repurposed lamp would be located, so that it would be framed by either of the two corner windowpanes when being viewed from outside. Genius, he is.



Determining our arrangement before building the lamp



Before beginning to build the lamp, Victor laid the pendants down inside a large box so that he could determine how he wanted to position them. It was important that the finished configuration look gorgeous but also be constructed in such a way that the pendants wouldn’t smack into each other during an earthquake. (Those of us who live in the Los Angeles area know that earthquakes are a “when” rather than an “if” scenario.) Once he determined the arrangement, it was time to start constructing the lamp.



Almost done!



Truth be told, putting this lamp together wasn’t easy. The instructions were . . . well . . . unclear. Threading the lamp cord through the wooden balls, which were later attached to the metal armature, was difficult, because the cord had a clingy, plastic coating and the holes in the balls were snug. (We ended up having to enlarge the holes slightly by wrapping sandpaper around a pencil and then sanding them from the inside.) Once we had the whole contraption assembled it was heavy, and it took three of us to hold it—working hard to keep the pendants from whacking into each other—while Victor attached the canopy to the ceiling. We also had to take it down a couple of times to adjust the height of the pendants in order to make sure they were properly framed inside the window panes.




Pendant lamp viewed from the patio

 

In the end, all the time and effort was worth it, because, as you can see from the photo at the tip-top of this post, our repurposed pendant lamp is the star of the show in this room. At night, it greets visitors as they approach from the outside. Inside, it’s a show-stopper. We love it. And we know we made the right decision when we changed it up to better suit our needs instead of leaving it as-is and selling it to someone else. No guilt here. It’s all good.

Tips and Tricks: Steel Wool is a Girl’s Best Friend

Hello, Readers!

We’re getting closer to completion on our renovation, although we’ve run into some roadblocks, primarily in the kitchen department. The butcher block portion of our island didn’t work out. Let’s just say our contractor isn’t as skilled as he’d led us to believe. It’s been installed, but it didn’t live up to our expectations. We’ve scrapped the idea for a number of reasons and are now looking for a new contractor and fabricator to replace the butcher block with Caesarstone to match the rest of the island. 

We’re also still waiting for the delivery of our built-in convection microwave in the custom “Wasabi” color. We’re told it will be in this week. Fingers crossed. *sigh*

There will be glorious photos of the finished rooms, rest assured. In the meantime, I’ve prepared a number of little tutorials with tips and tricks I’ve learned along the way and new pointers I’ve picked up from my good friend, interior stylist—and creative genius—Victor Underhill. Here’s a sampling about the glories of steel wool. Gotta love it.

The following are two little projects in which I used the magic of steel wool to safely transform vintage metal objects into ones that look new—or a heck of a lot better—again.

Vintage trivets: 25 cents for all three at a garage sale!

Let’s start with these adorable trivets with yellow plastic feet, which I nabbed at a garage sale for 25 cents. That’s right, readers. I got them for 25 cents for the set of three! As you can see, they were grubby. Some of the black paint was loose and chipped. They were awfully sticky, too. 

Trivets before

First, I soaked the feet in some warm, soapy water to cut the grime. I was pleasantly surprised when they came out looking new.

Superfine (Grade #0000) steel wool and high-heat paint

Then I took out my secret weapon: superfine (Grade #0000) steel wool. I gently rubbed the metal until all the grime and loose paint was gone. I covered the yellow feet with painter’s tape and spray-painted the metal with high-heat spray paint. 

Vintage trivets after restoration

Voila! Take a look at the finished project. These little guys are so atomically cool that we display them on the counter, and we use them all the time to hold hot dishes straight from the oven. Form and function. What’s not to love?

Eames shell chair before restoration

Our second project involves this delicious Eames shell chair, which we purchased years ago at a furniture sale at the Palos Verdes Library. The chair’s chrome legs didn’t look terrible, but they had some corrosion and needed a little help. Steel wool to the rescue!

Notice the difference between the two legs

Again, I used the same superfine steel wool, which I gently rubbed on the legs and watched most of the corrosion disappear. (In the photo at left, the left leg has been treated with the superfine steel wool; the right leg has not. Notice the remarkable difference in shine and texture.) This took some elbow grease, I’ll admit, but it was worth it. A word of warning, though, with a project like this: Wear a mask—the inexpensive type that can be had at any hardware store. Using steel wool on chrome does create a fine dust, which is best left outside of one’s lungs. 

Eames shell chair after restoration

Once I finished sprucing up the legs, I cleaned the upholstery up with saddle soap, which I’ll talk about in another post. Saddle soap is a great tool to have in your vintage-furniture arsenal. If you haven’t used it, you won’t believe what it can do.

And So it Goes . . . and Goes . . . and Goes . . .

Oh, Readers! I’ve neglected you for so long. We’ve moved, you know, from our temporary rental situation and into our Rancho. Finally. That whole moving business has taken me away from the computer for all these weeks, but then . . . there’s more. Because guess what? The house wasn’t ready for us when we got here.

Our contractor was running behind when we arrived August 7, and here it is a full month later and our house still isn’t finished. When we got here, our home was supposed to be complete with the exception of countertops. Um-hmmmmm. Not so much.



View from the rumpus room through the newly opened wall

We had floors and walls and such, of course. We had a toilet, sink and tub in one bathroom. There were some cabinets in the kitchen—slick glossy-gray ones from Ikea—but we dared not fill them, because their contents would only be covered in construction dust. We had a temporary, $40 aluminum sink in the kitchen and, thanks to a slow delivery from the appliance store, the fridge and microwave the previous owner had left behind. And because we didn’t want our belongings to get damaged during the construction melee, we put most of our stuff in storage. Nice. 



Old microwave in the hole where the new one will be

 Since then, most of our appliances have been installed, save the custom-colored microwave I just had to have. (When you land on the page after clicking on the link, click on the first little color swatch in the second row—“Wasabi”—and you’ll see what we’re waiting on backorder for.) Pretty Ikea light fixtures have been installed above the kitchen island. New toilets are in. Sinks and sink-cabinets, again from Ikea, grace the bathrooms. Some furniture has made its way inside.

More painting has taken place since these photos were taken (by our good friend Tom Underhill, a professional photographer)—in fact, the inside is nearly done. We chose to do the majority of the house in a saturated yellow—a color we had Benjamin Moore paint custom-mixed to match a Behr shade we liked (Feather Gold). Accent walls are done in Olive Moss; ceilings, fireplace and trim in Pure White; and the main beam, upright posts and additional horizontal accents in Soot—all from Benjamin Moore. (The Soot treatment was inspired by photos of original Long Beach Ranchos seen on the Huntington Library’s digital library.) Our painter, Steve Smith of Smith Prep 'N' Paint, has done a magnificent job, as usual. We've worked with him, and only him, for many years.

Estate sale headboard with vintage sconces from Etsy.com

As you can see from the photos—if you look past the clutter—Jeff Jeannette, of Jeannette Architects here in Long Beach, did a marvelous job on the design of the kitchen and in opening up the wall between the two large living spaces. We’re very pleased with the result.

 Next week, we hope to see the installation of our CaeserStone countertops, with one section of the island topped in butcher block. We’ve been waiting a long time, so we’re looking forward to it. We also expect to get our furniture and art placed in the next week or two. Of course, we’ll keep you updated—but this time in a more timely fashion.

The rumpus room: TV will mount above the console; pocket door to the left



It's dirty--but get a load of that terrazzo floor!



Pretty little bathroom



Paint swatches of the main and accent color appear at the right



Pretty Little Things, Mid-Century-Modern Style

We’re at the point in our renovation where it looks like nothing’s happening, but there’s a lot of activity going on at our Rancho. As we speak, Ikea cabinets are being assembled and installed. Drywall and wood is being finished in preparation for the painter, who threw up a couple of big swatches this morning for us to admire and critique. (We think we’ve got our colors—inside and out—pinned down, but we want to be sure.) I guess what I’m trying to say is that we still have no beauty shots of the house to show you. So to quench your thirst for mid-century-modern gorgeousness in the meantime, I’m going to share some photos of goodies I’ve picked up—just for our new house—at various area haunts.

I’ve been long-obsessed with the mid-century-modern aesthetic and have collected furniture, art, ceramics and the like since the early 1980s, so we already had a houseful. All we really needed for our new house was bedroom furniture. But when I went looking for it at estate sales and specialty stores, other items ended up following me home. Here’s a taste:

One of the first things we picked up was this delicious pair of teak lamps with their original (super-cool shades). We got these at inretrospect on “Retro Row” in Long Beach, which is one of our favorite places to shop, because the people who work there are fabulous, the selection is huge and the prices are just where they should be.

Another inretrospect find is this Frederick Weinberg Etruscan horse—something I’d wanted to own since the first time I saw one decades ago. It’s pictured next to a Ben Seibel bookend that I picked up at an estate sale for a cool 10 bucks! These babies usually sell for at least $350 a pair, so at that price, I was only slightly sad that I didn’t get its mate.

My latest estate sale find—and one of my all-time favorites—is this ceramic centerpiece/bowl in the form of a golden ram, which I think is breathtakingly beautiful. This gorgeous piece was in a home filled with high-end Danish modern furniture, ceramics and art. Store owners from Retro Row were snapping everything up all around me, but they had no interest in this little guy. I have no idea why, but I’m glad they left him behind. I’ll treasure him forever.

A more utilitarian estate-sale pick is this Danish modern Salton bun warmer, which looks brand new. I love it. I’m gonna use the heck out of it, for sure.

And yes, we did get some bedroom furniture: these two, small matching dressers and a pair of delicious nightstands from Trebor Nevets, also on Long Beach’s Retro Row. Gorgeous, no? They’ll look great with the headboard I found at an estate sale last weekend. Now all we need is a “highboy” dresser!

An Expert's Take on Mid-Century Modern: Meet Nate Cole

In my last post, I provided a brief rundown of “dos” and “don’ts” when it comes to renovating a mid-century-modern home—or any home, for that matter. But before you can renovate a super-cool pad, you have to get one. And that’s where a cracker-jack real estate agent comes in.

Nate Cole

To land our Rancho, we worked with Nate Cole at Coldwell Banker here in Long Beach. We met Nate several years ago at an open house at one of his listings in Rolling Hills Estates—the Mitchell residence, designed by Case Study House architect Calvin Straub. Not long after that, we ran into Nate at an open house at one of his Rancho listings. We liked his style. And we liked the fact that he’s based in Long Beach and specializes in mid-century-modern properties. So when we were ready to buy, we knew Nate was our guy.

We thought it might be interesting to get a real estate agent’s perspective on looking for, purchasing, maintaining and just-plain loving a mid-century-modern home. So we sat down with Nate for a chat. Here’s how it went:

RR:    How long have you been a Realtor, Nate Cole?

NC:    Nine years.

RR:    What made you decide to go into real estate sales?

NC:    Architecture. I was always obsessed. Everywhere I went, I went wanting to know what was out there. I also wanted to work for myself, to be self-employed. And it sounded fun!

RR:    You’re a fan of the mid-century-modern aesthetic, no? For how long, and why?

NC:    I was probably turned on to it through mid-century-modern furniture. I think a lot of people are. I started to understand where it all fit in, the context of it. I was in my early 20s. I was always interested in graphic design and interiors. I realized I’d been around it al lot. You start to notice what you’re drawn to. I went from not really paying attention to it to being fully immersed in it.

RR:    Don’t you own a fab mid-century home yourself?

Nate Cole's totally bitchin' house, designed by the great Ed Killingsworth

NC:    I do. It was designed by Ed Killingsworth, a Case Study architect. His [own residence] is in the Virginia Beach Country Club near me and his office is right around the corner from my house. His stamp is all over Long Beach. I was very lucky to have Ed Killingsworth at my house the day I closed escrow, along with the original owner, and a friend there filming it.

RR:    I’m jealous, Nate Cole. When we were looking for our house, you told us about other Long Beach neighborhoods, aside from The Ranchos, where we might find a hidden gem. Refresh my memory.

NC:    Alamitos heights—just in from Belmont heights—that neighborhood is pretty chock full of mid-century. Park Estates is, too, but it has association rules about pitched roofs—all the Neutras and Killingsworths have pitched roofs—not something those architects would normally have done. Los Altos—some of them had architects doing custom homes and others were designing tracts like Eichlers—La Marina Estates, Bixby Knolls, Virginia Country Club. The mix is kinda’ cool there. There are Green & Green, federal style, Spanish, mid-century modern—all right next door to each other.

RR:    What advice would you give clients who are seeking mid-century homes?

NC:    Don’t be stubborn about size. Of course you have set bedroom and bathroom counts you need to have, but a 1,300-square-foot house in The Ranchos can feel more spacious than a 2,000-square-foot house that’s a traditional style.

RR:    What are the pitfalls of owning a mid-century home?

NC:    Maintenance. Upkeep. The beams, to infinity. Beams that stick outside the house like at The Ranchos. There’s a lot of upkeep to keep from having water penetrate them and getting dry rot. Flat roofs. If you’re doing work on homes like these there are design aspects and components involved that mean you have to stand there and watch. You can’t just let the contractor go to work. You have to stand over them and make decisions.

RR:    What’s the upside?

NC:    Endless. It’s a way of life. A way of improved life when you’re in your house and you forget to go outside because you feel like you already are. I love it. You become accustomed to living in a house like that. Then you get into a space that’s bad and when you get back into your house it’s, like, ahhhh. You just love it. It’s always evolving, how you live in it. You notice things even years after you moved there. You see how well a space works. I think it’s hilarious when you hear that modernism is out of fashion. I think it’s silly that people look at interiors and houses that way.

RR:    For someone who’s looking to buy (or sell) a mid-century modern house, what should they look for when shopping for a real estate agent?

NC:    Someone who has experience in dealing with homes like these and who knows how to reach the type of people they need to be presented to. Also how to present them. Now it’s so much about how it’s seen online and how it’s presented. Even the way it’s described and, of course, the way it’s photographed. You want an agent who understands what you want, too, if you’re on the buying side. There are a lot of things—it’s not about what I like, it’s about what that person likes.

RR:    Anything else you’d like to add?

NC:    It still baffles me that there isn’t more of a premium on mid-century-modern houses—that really great architecture isn’t given the same kind of premium as art. You’ll see an auction for an object of art—a painting or sculpture—and it sells for an astronomical price. Then there’s a home that you can live in and it doesn’t command that same kind of premium. It’s a piece of art, a piece of history—a piece of design history—and it should be worth more, I think.