The Leg, the Frog and the Highball Glasses
With my precious sister, K., visiting and a pocketful of spending money from my recent bridal shower, I had all the justification I needed this month to hit the antique stores of Dallas and add a few purely fun pieces to my collection of belongings.
The Leg
Ah, the leg. Though the leg itself is new, I did indeed find it at the RealReal—a primarily online resale shop specializing in the authentication of designer clothing. They do, incidentally, carry a handful of home goods and other notions in their Highland Park storefront: coffee-table books, candles, the best-smelling French perfume I’ve ever encountered, and Dada-inspired matchstick holders.
A. and I—thoughtful, civilized people as we are—have always made a point of having matches available in the bathroom. Up until the leg, we’d been using up-cycled yogurt containers (not plastic ones, mind you, but ceramic; we are yogurt snobs) to hold our matches, but this cheeky little leg was obviously a much more elegant solution. And by elegant I do mean joyfully absurd. We couldn’t say no.
The Frog: Part One
Silly as it may sound, I think what first made me love LuLa B’s antique store in the Design District was not it’s selection of gorgeous mid-century furniture, but it’s selection of frogs. I mean it. The first time I walked in (and the second, and the third) I was greeted by what felt like booth after booth of these fantastic ceramic frogs. This green fellow holding his knees was by far my favorite; I’d even taken a self-portrait with him a week prior (see photo above), but for whatever reason I didn’t feel ready to bring him home until I made my trip there with K. I’d sort of counted on him still being there. After all, I really thought we’d had a connection, but when K. and I arrived, he was nowhere to be found.
How, you may ask, could I have been such a fool? I asked myself the same thing. It’s true that for only $20 I could have already been housing the little guy—making tea together, watching movies, sharing laughs—but he was gone. Gone! And God only knew who had taken him…
(END PART ONE)
The Highball Glasses
Sobered by my acute feeling of non-buyers remorse, I wasted no time in nabbing the set of six frosted highball glasses I’d seen and admired at LuLa B’s before.
The little handwritten tag claimed they were both authentically Mid-Century and Chinese. I’m a big fan of that which is Asian or Asian-inspired in terms of art and design language, and in addition to quite perfectly matching the odd red, orange, and green Fiestaware plates A. and I already had at home, I also thought they’d make nice companions to the Japanese dishes my Grandma V. had gifted me. After all, the set seemed like a sensible, traditional way of spending a wedding-related gift. I may someday host a rather handsome dinner party.
Note: After buying the set of highball glasses, I was still not entirely sure what exactly a “highball” was. Turns out, a highball is any two-part mixed drink: usually a little of something hard, and a lot of something fizzy like soda water. Cheers!
The Frog: Part Two
After my partial defeat at LuLa B’s (Monsieur Grenouille, où vas-tu?), K. and I figured we may as well pop into Benny Jack Antiques a couple doors down.
Unbeknownst to us, Benny Jack specializes in the macabre. I’ll refrain from providing specific examples (this is a happy blog), but as K. and I wandered further and further into the maze of high-dollar horrors and cursed curios, we became less and less sure we’d find the exit. (I kid.) ((Kind of.))
A man at the counter in a purple suit caught us on our way out (praise God, a way out!) to ask if we’d heard of Dolly Python, his wife’s antique store in Bishop Arts. Though we may have just narrowly escaped with our lives, (I kid.) ((Kind of.)) we figured, what the heck? K. and I jumped in the Jeep and made our way over.
Though the selection at Dolly was far less lurid, it seemed we’d leave empty handed until K. tapped me on the shoulder. In her hands, she had the frog.
I’m not sure how he arrived at Dolly—an inter antique store exchange program perhaps?—but I do know he was the exact same frog I’d known from LuLa B’s. The tag visible in the photo I took with him a week back was identical. I had been given a second chance.
And so, the princess and the frog lived happily ever after (with their highball glasses, and their leg)…
(END PART TWO)