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

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

Showing posts with label lincolnwood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lincolnwood. Show all posts

Friday, February 5, 2010

For the Love of Lincolnwood

There's something about Lincolnwood. The home styles and people who settled in this northern suburb, and the position of the stars and planets when it was founded, have combined to produce a destination that always delights. Me, at least.

Where else are you going to find an oven/cooktop combo like this -- in near showroom-condition -- outside of a museum or old manufacturer's catalog or 1950's industrial film about the Kitchen of Tomorrow?

I like it so much, in fact, that I'm going to let this pass by without comment.

They were just $8. I don't need any more glassware, and I certainly don't have any place to store these, but Heaven only knows why I let simple practicalities like that stand in my way. They were, after all, from Lincolnwood!

There was a contentious mix of traditional and mod at work here, with each style retreating to their separate spaces. The public areas, like this living room, were pretty staid, aside from the pink paint that coats and soothes the walls.

But upstairs, there was this. I overheard the estate sale workers refer to it as "the crystal room."

It made perfect sense.

And not just because of all the crystal on the shelves.

I don't know whose fortress of solitude this was.

But I have to applaud the '70s-sci-fi-meets-'80s-Miami look going on here. Where else but Lincolnwood?

The basement was another area where someone let their freak flag fly back in the late '60s or early '70s.

We've got a few stops to make and then we're done.

You know the new owners are going to tear this down, send it to a landfill, and tell stories about it for as long as they live here.

The love of Lincolnwood, I'd say!

It looks like a little love is being spoken here, too.

This is the perfect TV to hook up to your Atari Pong home console.

Imagine, for just a moment, the crowds that once gathered around the delicious warmth of these matching fondue sets' Sterno flames. Thank you, Lincolnwood, for the memories!

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Lincolnwood Elegance

Living an elegant life can be within everyone's grasp. Just follow these easy instructions.

Florals in any form bring the beauty of nature indoors. Bigger is better and gold is grand!

There's nothing more elegant than Victorian-era furniture. And nothing more guaranteed to ensure that you and your guests never get too comfortable. Comportment is everything in the elegant life.

The elegant boudoir begins with a large bed, perfect for lounging around in all day while wearing marabou-trimmed robes and high-heeled slippers. Barbara Cartland would approve.

French Provincial furniture lends an air of "let them eat cake" privilege to your days and nights.

Now this is a princess-style phone. If you find yourself reduced to the unfortunate position of taking and placing your own phone calls, do it only from one like this.

And finally, hide away all your contemporary items in an unused room of your home and refuse to even allow your household servants inside.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Lincolnwood Modernist Cabin

This was one of the stranger houses I've been to lately, because while it had some obvious modernist touches -- cathedral ceilings, glass-block windows -- it also had some decidedly pioneer-era ones as well. See if you don't agree.

The livingroom. That soaring ceiling said post-war, the wood paneling, westward-ho.

This photo kind of sums up the friction I felt in every room.

Plus, this place was crowded. If I wanted to fight people left and right to get a look at something or take a photo, I'd go to the mall or a tourist attraction.

It feels like I say this all the time, but only because it's so often true: There was stuff everywhere. A treasure trove and bonanza for the right person, a confusing mess of junque for the wrong one.

Upstairs there was a huge master bedroom with wraparound windows and this extensive album collection. Ordinarily this sort of thing would make me salivate, but they were all classical and opera, which doesn't spin my turntable, so to speak.

Excuse me, ma'am, but...

... you're in my shot. Readers often write to ask how I manage to take so many photos at these things. The answer is easy: people are, for the most part, oblivious to everyone and everything around them, except for the next big find.

That's better. Too bad there wasn't much interesting to say about this.

Terrific 1940s medicine cabinet with fluorescent lights. I don't know what caused the striping in this photo.

Downstairs was an incredible selection of stuff.

The woman who used to live here apparently had an antiques business of her own. A lot of the items still had the tags on them. (Do you recognize that little Santa in the pot at the bottom?)

More glass block. More stuff.

There were rooms in the back of the basement, too, each one filled with shelves, each shelf filled with things.

This 1970s cookie jar would be a great place to hide your pot brownies.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Lincolnwood Disciplinarians

This place was like being at home with your parents. If your parents were mean and crabby.

The sign said, "Remove your shoes when you enter the house."

I don't need you tracking dirt all over my white carpeting. I'm not your maid, you know.

Stay out of the kitchen cabinets!

How many times do I have to tell you? It's NOT for sale!

That's it, mister. I've had it with your high-jinks. March yourself down those stairs.

Go to your room, and don't come out until you've done 200 crunches on that Ab-Master thing you said you couldn't live without.

You think you're pretty cute, don't you?

Why don't you mind your own business and stop asking so many damned questions?

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Lincolnwood Dream Home

The decor wasn't my taste, but everything else about this '60s Lincolnwood split-level made me fall in love.

Hey there, living room. I'm not really the type to rush things. But what do you say we ditch those stuffy Italianate reproductions and heavy drapes? I think we were made for each other.

Let's go down to the rumpus room and relax. We could watch a movie -- or two -- or just spend hours gazing at one another beneath the recessed lights.

Don't go anywhere. I'll put some Burt Bacharach records on the hi-fi and be right back.

Why don't I mix us a couple drinks while you slip into something more comfortable, like fresh barware and some cute Room & Board barstools?

Let's go upstairs to the bedroom, and get you out of those lamps and curtains. Shhh. I know it's been a long time. But I'll be good to you.

I want to wake up with you in the morning. We could take a shower together. I'd really like that.

What a coincidence. I love John Travolta, Donny Osmond, Robert Redford and Carol Burnett, too. See, I told you we belonged together.
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