An occasionally updated chronicle of estate sales in the city and suburbs of Chicago.

"It's such a guilty pleasure..." Lynne Stiefel, Pioneer Press

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Grandpa's Skokie Ranch

I liked this place. Not only because it was my kind of place (mid-century, multi-level, and a couple other hyphenated descriptors I'm too lazy to come up with) but also because the sale was presided over by a giant of an old man, who sat in a recliner, pontificating to the two women at the cashier's table on business matters and why the whole world is going to hell.

He was just to the right of this dining area, which made getting photos of that area difficult.

I went downstairs first, because that's where the records usually are. There were none, but I did discover this fantastic built-in sofa. Can't you imagine a family curled up here, watching TV throughout the sixties, seventies and eighties? And, five dollars will get you ten, there's storage beneath those cushions.

I also found this, curled up in a magazine rack, which raises the question of whether it came before or after the Streisand album Color Me Barbra.

And yes, I should have taken some pictures of the inside -- or even bought it. Sometimes I don't know what I'm thinking.

This bathroom had a distinctly Moroccan feel, thanks to the wallpaper. Watch out before you sit down in here, though. That's the only paper in the room.

Back upstairs in the kitchen I found this impressive collection of yarmulkes. That blue one in the lower-left corner appears to be smiling.

All the bedrooms were upstairs. This one held a selection of linens.

An impressive selection of men's vintage clothing covered the bed in the second bedroom. I found two shirts -- both brand new, with tags still attached -- that I snatched up for J. One was a fairly recent Joseph Abboud, and the other a Hathaway from the sixties still in the plastic bag.

I also found this book, which I should have snatched up. Because I myself am an eating man. Also, because it apparently retails now on for $15.

There were a few more items of note in the third bedroom.

A wig without a head is like a glove without a hand. Lifeless.

Somebody obviously held on to this for about... 40 years, I'd say.

I don't know why someone would wallpaper the inside of a closet, but it certainly does give it a finished look, don't you think?

I snapped this picture of the upstairs bath, then returned to the living room to pay for the shirts. They were unmarked, and I was expecting to pay $5 for each of them. So imagine my surprise when the cashier (I think it was his granddaughter) held them up for an assessment and the old man said, "One dollar!"

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Purchased: two vintage men's dress shirts, $1 each.


  1. Congratulations on the awesome shirt score!

    Interesting window treatment in the dining room. Hummm....

    I have a different take on the wig, but really shouldn't go there.

    M-I-L wallpapers the insides of her closets. Says it makes them happy. I've never considered the well-being of my closets to be important, but to each his own.

    I give up. What was in the mini-bike box originally?

  2. It was from Avon, an aftershave container. Those, too, are likely worth a certain amount of money these days, and that one probably should have been picked up. Ah, well.

  3. Eau de Mini-Bike...that manly-man scent of oil, exhaust, and sweat.

    Maybe that should be the teenagery scent of oil, exhaust and sweat. Nobody over the age of 14 rides a mini-bike. That kinda gives the packaging an additional kitsch factor.

  4. Wow. Great collection of kippot (aka "yamulkeh"). That blue bathroom looks a lot like our Skokie split/mid-century whatever


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