Archive for the ‘Back In The Day Style’ Category

My Daddy

March 9, 2012

and Me!

Thinking of you on your Birthday, Dad.

Love always,

Starr

Midweek Musing: Sammy the Sam-a-la

January 25, 2012

We had a dog once.  He was an adopted dog.  He was a Jewish dog.  His name was Samuel Hirsch.

When he came to live with us, we changed his name.

Meet Sammy the Sam-a-la Stegemoen

It became clear one hot summer night that a dog in the house might be a good idea.  A thwarted home invasion (thwarted because mom and I screamed bloody murder at the top of our lungs until the would be culprit ran away into the night) clearly put getting a watchdog on the top of the “to do” list.

And who do you call when you want to get something done?  Lori Hirsch, of course!  Mrs. Hirsch was one of my mother’s long time friends and loyal customers.  She would visit my mother’s dressmaking shop each season and place her order for dozens of ensembles.  With a larger-than-life personality and a benevolent heart to match, just say the word and she would drop everything to help anyone.

And it just so happened that she had a litter of puppies ready for new homes.

With a face only a mother could love, into our home came our new watchdog.  A Cock-A-Poo.  Yes, that’s right.  Half Cocker Spaniel and half Poodle, it’s fancy mutt breed name is Cock-A-Poo.

Sammy the Sam-a-la lived for two things.  To be forever and always attached at the hip (well, more like the ankle) to mom.  And, ironically, to escape out the door and run in a mad-dash-away fashion, snout to the ground and tail in the air, not looking where he was going and causing much angst (especially to the one guilty of not latching the door securely or holding it ajar a second too long).

Not long after the bolt, the rescue efforts would begin.  Into the car we would go and drive all over the neighborhood looking for that prodigal son of a dog.  Oftentimes we would return home finding the little stopper-outer sitting on the back door mat, with his head tilted in that heart melting position of cuteness, and his bubble comment declaring, “Where have you been, I’ve been waiting for you forever!”

He was a dog with the proverbial 9-Lives usually reserved for a cat.  The manner in which he mad-dashed-away with reckless abandon surely should have gotten him into a pickle on at least that many occasions.

Most worrisome were the times he escaped in the middle of a raging snowstorm.  On Long Island in the 70′s, the snow fell in a relentless way.  If the Sam-a-la’s dash-away took place during one of these white-outs, all we could do was wait.  As he trekked through the snow, it would attach to his doggie tummy fur and build upon itself until many solid, icy snowballs formed making it almost impossible for him to walk, let alone dash!

So relieved we were when that little abominable snow Sammy would drag himself down the driveway and bark his return, that we would forget that he had caused us such worry.  Then the de-icing would begin.  Mom had to literally crush the ice using warm washcloths while her darling dog son would sit on her foot.

So on and on it went year after year, until Sammy was of the age that mad-dashing was no longer becoming to a dog in his golden years.  But when a dog has Wanderlust, just try to keep him in!  His little dog heart gave out on his last mad-dash on a sunny Southern day in the early 80′s.

Twenty years hence, his beloved Mistress joined him.  I can see him now.  Sitting on mom’s foot.

In memory of Sammy the Sam-a-la, the Mad-Dashing Dog,

Starr

Motherlore

October 26, 2011

The Motherlore Babies’ First Annual Birthday/Halloween Celebration!  October 1991

With Halloween on its way and Adrien’s 21st Birthday fast approaching, I find myself thinking about that tender time during his babyhood, toddlerhood and young childhood when he and I were part of an extraordinary group of moms and little ones called  Motherlore.

Formed by a group of first time moms that had met during Better Birth sessions and welcomed their babies all within one month of each other, and then nurtured their friendships through baby yoga classes and beyond by meeting once each week in homes or local parks and later as the children grew at fun venues in and around Atlanta, we became each others support group par excellence!  During that wild and crazy time known as a baby’s first year, if nothing else got accomplished all week, we always managed to get up, fed, dressed and out of the house in time to meet up with this precious “brotherhood” of motherhood!

When our babies were all about 3 months old, our Better Birth class had its first reunion.  The date coincided with my first evening back in the studio at the Dancers’ Workshop after Adrien was born.  Denis proudly stood in as both Daddy and Mommy that night!

Again, when our babies were 6 months old, we reunited.  It was at this gathering that my friend, Teresa (shown with her son, Dalton) invited me to join the Motherlore group.  That’s Adrien on the right looking nice and chubby!

No iPhones or even digital cameras back then!  But every dad had a video camera!

After months of meeting in each others’ homes, we organized our first “outing.”  We looked like the stroller brigade at the 1991 Atlanta Arts Festival in Piedmont Park!

Each mom planned something unique and fun when they hosted.  Here we are christening Morgan’s new playhouse.  1992

The double slide at Winn Park was always a big hit!  1992

Group Shot – Spring 1992

Adrien was the first one in the group to get the Chicken Pox.  He still had some spots left at this Motherlore.  Spring 1992

“Home James…”  Summer 1992

“Can we go and play now?”  Summer 1992

Planned Parenthood!  18 months after our babies were born, we had a bumper crop that we lovingly called Motherlore Too!  1992

The Atlanta Arts Festival – Fall 1992

2nd Annual Motherlore Birthday Celebration.  Fun times at the Garden Hills Recreation Cabin!  Fall 1992

During the next year, albeit with some moms returning to work or having another baby, and the children now attending Mom’s Morning Out programs and expanding their network of playmates, Motherlore was still going strong.  Sometimes we invited “new friends” to join in the fun.  We even added a “Mom’s Night Out” occasionally!

Noble Park was a favorite these days.  Spring 1993

For the longest time the children just played along side each other.  It was fascinating to observe as they began making connections.  Spring 1993

Our last Motherlore at the Atlanta Arts Festival.  With the children beginning to give up their strollers, these types of events were better attended in small groups from that point on!  Fall 1993

Atlanta Arts Festival Kids!  1993

That fall brought our inaugural visit to Flintwood Farms.  1993

Flintwood Farms.  Fall 1993

3rd Annual Motherlore Birthday Celebration.  November 1993

As our children grew and started attending nursery school for more hours and more days per week, and their other activities like music, gymnastics, sports, dancing and art consumed much of their play time, we still managed to get together for Motherlore although not as often.

We met mostly outside in the fresh air at neighborhood parks.  1994

We returned to Flintwood Farms in the fall of 1994.

Flintwood Farms.  Fall 1994

4th Annual Motherlore Birthday Celebration!  November 1994

Real school in the form of 4-Year Old Kindergarten and Pre-K programs were on the schedule now.  Still, we carved out time to enjoy some of our Motherlore traditions…

Flintwood Farms. Fall 1995

Getting to be Big Boys now!  Flintwood Farms – Fall 1995

Turning “5″ Motherlore Get Together.  Fall 1995

Full time school took the place of those precious Motherlore days.  But even that did not stop us from finding a way to keep in touch…

Our inaugural Motherlore Tubing Trip in Helen, Georgia.  Summer 1996.  And the tradition still lives on…

I often remember those wonderful, carefree days of playing with our babies and swapping helpful parenting tips, useful baby gear recommendations, trying out new toys at each others homes and the feeling of belonging to something very special.  After all these many years, I am still good friends with a few of the moms and our kids enjoy catching up with each other from time to time.  At least once or twice a year, I spot a  Motherlore mom in the grocery store, at the doctor’s office, or someplace like Trader Joe’s!  We always take the time to catch up with each other and, of course, get the update on the children.  We even ran into some Motherlore families touring college campuses a few years back.

And now all of our little babies are about to turn 21 in the next couple of months!

Stylin’ at Motherlore.  1991

Happy 21st Birthday to all of the Motherlore Babies,

Starr

Happy Birthday, Val!

October 7, 2011

Wishing you a yummy, stick your finger in the birthday cake kind of day!

Love always from your little sister,

Starr

Idlewild

September 28, 2011

With Val and Mom, ready to board my first ever transatlantic flight from Idlewild International.  Destination, Heathrow in London, England.  December 1962.

Here at Starr Style, we’re Mad Men about the new television series, PAN AM!

Growing up mid-century on Long Island, (I know, I know, it should be in Long Island…but it just doesn’t sound right to me) and for a while in Queens, ldlewild International Airport was a perfect example of all that was modern and glamorous in that Populuxe Age.

Not only was it the hub of air transportation, Idlewild became an entertainment venue for many families.  Like a Sunday drive “out east,” a few hours in the terminals and on the open-air observation deck was both educational and fun for parents and kids alike.  We spent an afternoon or summer evening there on numerous occasions when I was growing up.

The thrill of someone that you knew going on a trip in a jet plane was reason enough to join them at the airport to wish them a personal “Bon Voyage.”  Friends and family alike would see one another off, waving goodbye until your jet airplane was just a speck in the distant sky.  And they would return again in a weeks time to greet you as you arrived jet lagged and happy from your awesome travels.

All dressed up in our Sunday best,my Norwegian cousin, Andy, and his wife, Gail, came to see us off at Idlewild. 

Now in those days, when immigrants like my mom and dad had established themselves in this country, they were given the privilege of sponsoring in other family members that wanted to come and work for the American Dream.  This charge was taken very seriously and a sponsor could be held responsible for any misadventures of the younger family member.  My parents sponsored at least a half dozen of my cousins immigrating from Norway.  And this always included a trip to Idlewild to greet them as they came through customs!  My cousin, Andy, (pictured above) was sponsored in by my parents.

Me, “Nannie” Elsie and Mom

Also present to see us off  that day in December as we embarked on our Christmas Holiday trip to meet my mother’s family in England and with a side trip (via ocean liner across the North Sea – another first for me) to Norway to meet our Norwegian relations on my father’s side, was our “surrogate grandmother,” Nannie Elsie.  A wonderful woman, she had also sponsored her share of young Norwegians.

Ready to go, Val and I were Happy Little Travelers!  Note my carry on!

Come Fly With Me,

Starr

The Hurricane Table

August 31, 2011

My most vivid memory of a hurricane experience is from 1960 when I was a little girl growing up on Long Island in my first childhood town called Elmont.

Similar to our recent Hurricane Irene, Hurricane Donna was a huge storm that barreled over the island’s Nassau and Suffolk counties.

She blew through in all of her fury around September 11, just days after John F. Kennedy made one of his famous Presidential campaign speeches…

“Give me your help…your hand…your voice…”

We had just started back to school at Dutch Broadway.  I was in First Grade, Val in the Fourth.

First Day of School 1960.

I am wearing a new “first day of school dress” made by mom.  It looks like our mid-century sectional sofa was in the process of being slip-covered (also the handiwork of mom).  This would be the last time our round, pedestal, blonde wood coffee table would be photographed with it’s mirrored top.

Most of the houses in our neighborhood were Cape Cod’s or the newer Ranch style, and many did not have basements.  Those families had to huddle in hallways during the worst part of Donna.  Our older house did have a basement, a basement finished by my dad to serve as a play & party room!

Our basement refuge complete with wood-burning fireplace.

(This photo was taken in 1957 when Tante Sigrid was visiting from Norway.  I love how my dad would wear a suit and tie when company came!  Such a 50′s thing!)

I don’t remember how we got word that it was time to take cover when Hurricane Donna was fast approaching.  But I do remember that we all headed down to the basement to wait it out.

To keep us busy while the windows rattled, dad had the whole family work on a project together…we tiled the round coffee table.  Goodbye mirrored top!  I can only imagine how endlessly my mom had to Windex it!

Mom and Dad designed the pattern.  Mom laid out the more intricate & geometrical, black & white center section, while Val and I were allowed to have at it with the outer rings of abstract black/white/greyish tiles.

We spent the duration of Hurricane Donna and well into the next day safely down in our basement happily working on the coffee table.  After we lost power, we used flashlights and candles to light our way.  Mom toasted bread in the fireplace and then spread it with “drippings.”  I remember that cinnamon toast was included in our hurricane fare as well.

When the coast was clear we were allowed to venture outside.  I remember that we were all so happy that our beautiful Weeping Willow tree had survived the winds.  And I believe that this is the first time I ever noticed the scent of ozone after a good rain.  To this date, that is one of my favorite smells.  It always triggers happy childhood memories.

A few days later, when the glue and the grout were dry, our coffee table masterpiece returned to its place of honor in the living room.  Looks like mom got the slipcovers finished too!

The dear table made the move with us to Flushing!

Over the years the grout loosened and we were forever picking up the little tiles and putting them back in place.  Each time I did, I remembered that happy family event.  And not a hurricane season goes by when I don’t think of that coffee table!!  (Note:  By the mid-60′s, Mom embraced Mediterranean decor!  Yes, lots of avocado green!  And the coffee table?  It went to coffee table heaven I guess.)

I’d like to know…do you have a special memory from a hurricane?

Starr

Men In Uniform

May 30, 2011

30th May, 1941

81 Squad  C Flight  6A Squadron  2 Wing

No. 9 Recruit Centre

Blackpool, England

X marks my uncle, Ted Crown

27th December 1916

My grandfather, Edward Crown, front and center.

8th April 1916

My great uncle Charlie Cody – down front left

World War II

99th Infantry Battalion (Sep) Ski Troopers

My dad, Ingvald Stegemoen – 2nd row from top – center

Freedom Isn’t Free,

Starr

Starr Fashions

April 6, 2011

If you are/were blessed to have a mother with superb design, sewing and fitting talents, then I know that you consider yourself a lucky gal!  Especially when it comes to finding an outfit for a very fancy occasion.  I’m in the midst of trying to find the “perfect little number” for my step-daughter, Monique’s, May Wedding and I miss having “Jo-Anne” here to whip it up.

Saldor Gowns 1941

When Joannie Crown finished school at the age of 16, she immediately entered into the trades.  For her, Dressmaking.  Of course, she didn’t start making dresses right away, she had to earn the distinction of being able to build a full garment by working her way through every aspect of the art.  Growing up, I loved hearing her stories about her adventures in fashion in London in the late 1930′s and early 1940′s.  A nimble seamstress, she soon left the area of the workroom where one was relegated to only install a zipper, or sew in a sleeve, or interface a collar all day long, every day.  When proven that you did each task expertly, then and only then you would move onto the next.  Unfortunately for some, there they remained.  But not for Miss Crown!  She had talent.  And before long she was in the big room with the designers, working on full garments from cutting to sewing to fitting.

Her last employer before she left England after the war to live in Montreal, was with Saldor Gowns.  Mr. Saldor (standing near the window in the photo) saw a spark in little Joannie (sitting near the window one to the right of Mr. Saldor).  He was not surprised when she announced she was going across the pond (the first in her large family and of her many friends to be such a pioneer) to marry an American and one day have a shop of her own.  He wished her well and they even kept in contact for a time.

I was rather young, maybe two or three, when I first knew that my mother was handy with needle and thread.  And this was the case with many of the mothers in the suburban, Long Island town where I was growing up as a young child.  Our house was one of the few featuring a “finished basement,” quite the rage in the early 1950′s.  And it was down there in the large room built by my dad with the main purpose of having parties that mom and her neighborhood girlfriends would have “fashion shows.”

The Era of the Basement Fashion Shows


Often, she would tuck me in for my afternoon nap and tell me that when I awoke there would be a pretty new dress for me to try on!  And there always was!

Sometime before I started going to kindergarten, Mom rented a storefront shop on the main street in the next town over.  This was to be the first of many dressmaking shops that she would have in the different towns we lived in while I was growing up.  The name on the sign was “STARR FASHIONS.” Dad built out the space with a workroom in the back and the front part of the store as the showroom.

The entire shop was painted in a beautiful shade of pink and the two tiny fitting room cubicles were hung with cream-colored silk drapes embossed with a bamboo-like design in black and gold.  Large gilt-framed mirrors reflected back the images of the beautiful ladies that came in to try on and purchase the fashions.

There was a large glass counter filled with an assortment of costume jewelry, you know, that gorgeous costume jewelry from the 50′s.  And the deep storefront window was a magical place filled with three lovely mannequins in their lacquered wigs (one blonde, one brunette, one redhead) each having flawless, fleshtone limbs.

Focussing at first on a Ready-To-Wear clothing line of fine quality women’s dresses and accessories and offering Alteration Services, Jo-Anne (her stage name so to speak) was quickly discovered by her customers to be a seamstress extraordinaire and soon her custom-made creations were in demand.

Starr at Starr Fashions c. 1958

Now, remember I mentioned that I was not yet in Kindergarten?  Well, the plan was for me to attend a Nursery School for a few hours a day in a little house located just blocks away from the shop.  This would give Jo-Anne time to dedicate to her new enterprise.  Well, I was not a happy camper!  I remember vividly that I did not like being dropped off with the ladies at the nursery and my mom leaving.  Before this, my mom and I were inseparable.  One week later, I was out of that place and happily spending the days with mom at the shop.  I was given the job of rearranging the jewelry in the showcase, which I adored doing.   I also liked to color coordinate the multitude of threads and seam bindings.  But for the most part, I would just crawl around under the clothing racks getting in the way, particularly a circular one in the center of the showroom where I would pretend to be in a cave or a tent.  I would dance around the mannequins in the shop window.  But I knew instinctively that when the little antique bells hanging on a cranberry colored, silk-rope  with tassels on the shop door rang, I was to scoot back to the workroom and busy myself with my coloring books while mommy attended to the ladies shopping for dresses.  It didn’t take long before I was spending my days back at home with my toys and in my yard in the tender loving care of a large, grandmotherly type woman we affectionately called Nanny Bea!

STARR FASHIONS was a good practice run for mom.  She knew that another dress shop was in her future, but being a stay-at-home mom in these formative years was really more important to her.  So who benefitted from this?  Me!  Not only did I have my best friend and playmate back full time, but lots of beautiful dresses too!  The three mannequins lived in our basement now, waiting for their next turn for glory in a shop window.

Mostly I remember the “first day of school” dresses.  This was back in the day when school began after the dog days of summer ended and there was a fall nip in the air.  Lovely plaids with Gingham trim,  prints depicting apples and falling leaves were popular , as well as little corduroy pinafores.

First Day of Kindergarten – Fall 1959

Back-to-school shopping was always fun with mom.  There would be a new metal lunchbox, crayons and construction paper, and of course fabric for my new dress.  Lunch at the Woolworth’s counter and a new Super Pinkie to keep me occupied while mom sewed rounded out the day.

I always loved the corduroy pinafores the best!  Even Val sported a custom-made shirt like this one from time to time.  And mom always made herself a new red dress for the holidays.

And if my Patti Playpal had been a good girl too, she would often get a new outfit!

And, of course, there was always a new frock for picture day!

As the years went by we moved several times and mom always had a little shop.  As Val and I got older and attended school all day, it was much easier for mom to live her dream, although she always managed to be at home in the afternoon after school. We lived in several different towns and sometimes the shop would be right in the front room of our house!  We never thought it was weird to have mannequins in the windows, but I’m sure some of our friends did!

Our house in Bethpage where mom had her dressmaking shop in the front room with mannequins in the window!  This was Easter Sunday and we were both sporting our grey suits.  Mine was a houndstooth wool and instead of a bonnet I wore a snazzy little cap.  Mom in her Jackie O pillbox and her chinchilla shrug.

The name of the shop changed through the years.  The word boutique had become all the vogue, so now the sign read Jo-Anne’s Boutique.  Starr Fashions now became her labeled-line of custom-ready-to-wear.  Her last shop, in Huntington, NY, was called North Shore Boutique and her labels read Fashions by Jo-Anne.

Vintage Business Cards


When I was in high school the dress code became a little more relaxed and we were allowed to wear long pants and then eventually blue jeans.  Mom was very busy with her clientele, so she sewed less for me, but still made all of my dresses.  Some of them were micro-minis!

London 1969

This was the time in my life when I learned the most about the dressmaking business.  Although the majority of my after school hours were spent at the Jan Martin Dance Studio where I was a dancing teacher, I also helped quite a bit in my mom’s store.  My specialities were cutting and hand finishing.  I did not inherit my mom’s talent for sewing.  But I did love design and I especially enjoyed shopping expeditions to the 7th Avenue garment district of NYC where each season we would shop for fabrics and accoutrement for her next line of creations.  I can still see Jo-Anne, with her headband and black “fall” flying out as we returned home on the Long Island Expressway in her red Impala convertible with dozens of bolts of fabulous new fabrics hanging out of the back seat!

Jo-Anne in her “fall” and a psychedelic little number!

Mom retired from dressmaking and closed up shop in the late 70′s.  She and dad were heading into their next adventure of becoming innkeepers.  We bid farewell to the jewelry display counter and the mannequins (one was sans fingers by now!), sold to a young woman with dreams of having her own fashion shop.

And although the inn kept them hopping 24/7, mom was never too busy to make a new dress for me.  These were the days of disco dancing dates and I was performing in shows all of the time.  So my new dresses were glamorous and theatrical.  During the ski season I would drive up to the inn in the Catskills to help my parents on the weekends.  Mom would always carve out some time to strap on her pin cushion and powder up her hem marker.  The next time I came up to help there would be a new dress for me!

This one-shoulder creation was a favorite of mine!

Then came the Atlanta Charisma days!  My parents were Snowbirds now, living in Georgia for the winter months and returning to the Catskills for the rest of the year.  There were always costumes to be made and mom tirelessly broke sewing machine needles on sequins, had Ostrich feathers up her nose and sewed countless rhinestones on to countless costumes.  Without a doubt, Bobby Berkeley and I and our students were definitely draped in Haute Costume!

My most treasured dress that mom made for me was, of course, my wedding ensemble.  It was a tailored affair in ivory French lace over silk.  The short-sleeved, sheath dress featured a matching Bolero jacket and headpiece a la Ruby Keeler!

After Adrien came along in 1990, I became a stay-at-home mom.  There was little need for fancy dresses for a while.  But on the rare occasion that I needed something special, mom was always ready to take on the task.  Little Adrien was lucky enough to have a few outfits custom made by his Nana too!

Jo-Anne always enjoyed a nice fabric store.

Valentine’s Day Outfit by Nana

Easter Sunday Outfit by Nana

Colorful Jumpsuits by Nana

I wore the last dress that Jo-Anne ever worked on for me during a trip to Canada in July 2005.  I didn’t know at the time that she was gravely ill and it must have taken every ounce of her fortitude to accomplish the work on this one last fashion for me.

Just three weeks later she was gone.  But not before we spent her last days talking and laughing.  How I treasure having had the chance to hear, once again, all of those stories from when she was a young woman in wartime London including her days at Saldor Gowns.

On her last day, she told me that she had picked out the dress she would like to be laid to rest in.  I found it hanging on the back of her closet door.  A lovely brown and cream colored sheath with a matching jacket.  As I inspected it, I found that she had prepared the hem but had not sewn it.  The evening before we had her life celebration, it honored me deeply to be able to sew these last stitches for her knowing that for every one I made she had made thousands for me.

It was several years before I needed to get a “fancy” dress.  When my step-son, Philippe, married in 2009, I shopped and shopped until I found an elegantly simple sheath in iridescent teal silk.  I loved it immediately and knew that mom would have approved.  It wasn’t until days later when I was bringing it to Lolita, my wonderful surrogate dressmaker, for alterations, that I noticed the label and tag…

I knew my Angel Mom had a little something to do with finding my perfect dress!

And, just this past weekend, I began my quest to find “the” dress for Monique’s wedding and lo and behold, the first dress I picked out, but the last one to try on after 14 others was the one I fell in love with.  Guess what the label and tag said?

 

A stitch in time,

Starr

Who’s The Birthday Girl?

March 22, 2011

ME!

Let’s Celebrate…

Party Hats, Balloons, Cake & Candles!

 

Family & Friends

 

And, of course, a little Dancing!

All photos c. 1960′s

 

From the newest member of the Heinz 57 Club,

Starr

Forsythia Festival Frolic!

March 16, 2011

I’ll call it Mellow Yellow!

 

Recently, Denis and I enjoyed a merry gambol to Forsyth, Georgia for its annual Forsythia Festival.

 

But, first things first.  A quick overnight stop in Columbus, Georgia for a special event – the very first gathering of the newly formed Springer Theater Alumni Group!  Many moons ago, back in the early 1980′s I was involved in 5 productions at the Springer Opera House Theater.  Other than for family, neither Denis, nor I, are the reunion-going type, but this one intrigued us and as we have become avid fans of the weekend road trip, we decided, “why not?”

We arrived in Columbus on that gorgeous Friday afternoon.  The Springer Theatre looked every bit the same as it did almost 30 years ago!

We checked into our room, the James L. Redd Suite (affectionately called the “red” room) at the historic Rothschild-Pound House Inn.

The Redd Room

With a cute art deco en suite bath.

Included with our stay at the B&B were afternoon refreshments at the quaint Vintage 222 Cafe just up the street from the Inn.

The shabby chic dining room served double duty as a gallery for the artist Garry Pound, who is also the proprietor of the Inn and Cafe.

We enjoyed a lovely glass of Cabernet and some yummy Bruschetta at Vintage 222.

 

That evening we enjoyed authentic Thai cuisine at the Old Siam in downtown Columbus.  After dinner we strolled down Broadway taking in the local flavor, some of which is still steeped in the old Boogie Oogie Oogie days!

Bobby Berkeley would have snapped up this jacket in a New York Minute!

Gorgeous Church Lady Hats!

And frocks to go with them!

 

Later, we joined alumni members for the reunion at the Springer’s Annex Theater for an evening of improv called No Shame Theater!

 

The next morning we explored the communal rooms of the Rothschild-Pound House Inn, all of which exhibited the beautiful artwork of Garry Pound.

The Grand Foyer

Parlor I

Parlor II

Formal Gardens

 

A delicious breakfast was served, again at Vintage 222.  We dined on fluffy veggie omelets and southern-style grits & biscuits.  And then it was time to say “Goodbye, Columbus” and hit the road for the next leg of our weekend drive adventure.

 

We looped one last time through the historic district and past the Springer on our way out of town.

 

Blue skies and open roads made for a lovely cruising day!

 

I’ll take a dozen bottles, please!

 

Grabbed this one for my collection!

 

An adorable Main Street, USA, scene!

 

We must be getting close!

We headed to the Forsyth Courthouse Square to celebrate the town’s namesake shrub!  Predictably perfect, this festival boasted lots of food, arts & crafts and live entertainment!

 

Grits Cafe

on the Square

promised to serve up

Southern Food with FLAIR!

And, did it ever!!!  Chef Wayne Wetendorf, an absolute artist with food, served up two of the most scrumptious and creative veggie plates that we have ever eaten.

Mine had a melange of sweet potato, corn and shitakes in a light mushroom sauce, a balsamic roasted portabello stuffed with garlic spinach, spicy grilled zucchini & asparagus, and fried green tomatoes layered with goat cheese and fig preserves.

Denis also enjoyed the zucchini & asparagus and the layered fried green tomatoes.  A black-eyed pea bean cake topped with garlic spinach and surrounded with a creamy chipotle and balsamic remoulade took center plate.

 

After lunch, we strolled through the festival again and came across the Rose, another charming vintage theater for my collection!

 

Happily, we made our way back to the car and began our journey back to Atlanta after having spent a picture-perfect, 24-hour road trip…

Enjoying great memories and making new ones,

Starr

 

From my Springer Theater Days


 

About The Springer

 



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