Wares

Pop quiz. How many of these objects end in the word "ware"?

If you glanced at the picture, counted 5 objects and made that your guess, you get 3 points.

If you glanced at the picture and suspected that these were 5 different "wares", you get 5 points.

If you glanced at the picture and thought "This girl needs to learn how to use a camera a/o Photoshop" you get all the bonus points you want.

But of course one of these is my much beloved Tupperware. Hint: think orange. But the other "wares" in question I had never even so much as heard of until they hopped into my cart at Goodwill.

(Yes, vintage objects can move about at will. Much like people, getting older has caused them to realize that they can do what they damn well please.)

The green lidded pitcher is Lustro ware. God, I love that name. So far, I haven't been able to ID it on the webs, so I don't know much about its age, but it has the same texture and 'feel' as 50's era polyethylene Tupperware.

These 3 pieces, as best as I can tell, are melmac/melamine. Don't laugh, but the term melmac is a new one on me. As far as I ever knew, that was Alf's home planet.

The red cup is Oneida ware. Yellow cup below it is Boontonware, and finally, the little blue bowl is Mallo ware.

Who knew there were so many wares? Who knows when I'm going to make the next bad joke? Here goes: Am I gonna need a warehouse to start storing all my thrifty wares?

Tales from the Dark Side

This is a tale of going over to the dark side.

It all starts with 70's Tupperware. Avocado green. Harvest Gold. Paprika. Servalier lids.

It's a good story. The kids in it wear their hair in ponytails and wear jumpers. They eat oatmeal for breakfast. (Guess what kind of bowls they eat it out of).

But then something terrible happens. But before I can tell you what happens next, I have to tell you something about myself.

You see, as hard as I try, I never really completely shook all the traces of Goth off from my formative years. ( Would those traces shine like silver I wonder? Black, shiny, evil-midnight silver? )

So anyway, there is a part of me that never wants to eat my oatmeal. No matter what kind of bowl it is served in.

So, also, there aren't any kids anymore now. I tricked you. This whole post is about me. And Tupperware. But also, mostly about me.

My husband just reminded me of something. I said these words to him: "Stop me if I start collecting the pastel."

I told you. Dark Side.

Memories

It started innocently enough.

70's Tupperware from my childhood spotted at the local Goodwill. It was enough to bring back a few memories I hadn't thought about in a couple of decades.

It was just a simple canister. But it was funky and retro and practically made out of titanium.

Memory is a funny thing. I hadn't really thought about Tupperware in years but yet the branding had stayed firm in my mind. This stuff was made to last a lifetime.

But, believe it or not, I didn't buy it. Branding or no, I treated it like almost every other memory-evoking object at the Goodwill. "My mom had this!" is a pretty frequent expression in that there Goodwill.

But the Tupperware stayed in my mind. I decided I had to go back and buy it the next day.

In the meanwhile, out of both boredom and curiosity, I did a search for vintage Tupperware.

That did it. One flickr photoset later, I was hooked.

Alas, the piece of Tupperware I had seen a day earlier had sold. Ebay loomed deep in my mind, taunting me with blue canisters.

But the funny thing was, two blue canisters were waiting on me the next trip I took to Goodwill.

My fate as Crazy Tupperware Lady was sealed, simple as that.

See the picture? Even my tomato hearts Tupperware.