Learning a Trade: Guilds and Guildhalls

 

If you visit any major European city – for example – Brussels, or Amsterdam, London, or Paris, and you go to the “old city” or the “ancient quarter” in the very heart of the metropolis, chances are, you’ll stumble across all kinds of amazing, beautiful buildings. Among these buildings – are guildhalls.

Beautifully-faced guildhalls in the Dutch city of Antwerp.

Guildhalls are all over Europe. Almost every major European city was bound to have at least one – usually – several, sometimes all clustered in one place, sometimes, spread out around the city, but they are there, if you know where, and how to find them. During my trips to Europe, I was fortunate enough to see the Guildhall in London, and some of the beautiful ones in the Netherlands when I visited Amsterdam. But then, you might ask – what is a guildhall? What makes it so special? And for that matter – what the hell is a guild?

I am so glad you asked. Let’s find out together!

What exactly is a Guild?

“I say, Jeeves! What an extraordinary talent! Could one inquire as to…”
“I’m not at liberty to divulge the ingredients, sir”.
“No! Of course not! Secrets of the guild, and all that, eh?”
“Precisely, sir!”

– “Jeeves & Wooster”

A guild is defined as an organisation, or group of people, with shared interests, goals, crafts or skills, which is formed in order to protect their mutual interest, provide support to each other, and to further the improvement of their craft or interest – whatever that happens to be.

Using this definition – how far back can guilds be traced?

Believe it or not, but – thousands of years!

The first guilds – of a sort – were established in Ancient Rome, but the system of guilds that most people think about today were largely created in Medieval (476 – 1350) or Renaissance times (1350 – 1600), and they were established all over Europe, to such an extent that almost every major city was bound to have several of them – and believe it or not – guilds are still being established today – the London Worshipful Company of Art Scholars was created…in 2010!

What is a Guild For? What does it Do?

The purpose of a guild is to regulate a trade or profession, to guard and record trade or craft secrets, and to keep the trade alive. Within a particular community (say – a city), guilds regulated and certified the work done by various craftsmen or professionals within the community. In an age when knowledge was passed down from father to son, mother to daughter, master to apprentice, when records were hard to keep, and literacy was minimal – the best way to ensure that the best of the best interests of a trade or skill or profession were being both protected, regulated, and taught – was to consolidate all this knowledge into one organisation – a guild!

And this trade or profession could be literally anything – writers, weavers, tailors, silversmiths, blacksmiths, accountants, barbers…London even has a guild for taxi-drivers! Guilds existed to preserve a craft or profession’s secrets, skills and histories, and to maintain standards of professionalism, as well as to oversee the continued improvement and education of those who wished to participate in that particular craft or profession, regardless of what it actually was. The closest modern equivalent to a medieval guild is like a modern trade union, where paid-up members receive benefits and have a say in how their trade or profession is regulated, and what it will, or will not do.

How Does a Guild Operate?

When a guild was formed, it first required somewhere to call home – a guildhall, or a guildhall stand-in, if a purpose-built guildhall did not yet exist. The next thing it required was a register – a list of all its members – who they were, what their positions and skills were, and what ranks they held. In older times, these registers were laboriously written longhand by a scribe, and every update or addition required that a whole new document be created from scratch.

The next thing that a guild needed was to establish a body and hierarchy of members. Guilds were broadly broken up into craft guilds, and merchant guilds; craft guilds are the most well-known, and to enter a craft guild required a lengthy training process. This is covered below…

The Apprentice

If you wanted to be part of a guild, you needed to have a trade or craft, and join the guild which catered to that trade or craft. To earn the right to be a craftsman or tradesman, you needed to complete the necessary training and education – known as an apprenticeship. An apprentice was a novice, a student, a pupil of the craft or profession which he hoped to make his life’s work. A newbie, as we’d call it today.

Apprentices almost always started as teenagers, usually between 13-15 years of age. To be made an apprentice, or to carry out an apprenticeship, the hopeful craftsman first had to find someone to teach him the tips and tricks of the trade. To do this, he would visit the guildhall of his selected trade, and seek out someone who would be his mentor – a master craftsman who required an apprentice, and who would offer him a position. If the apprentice accepted, then a document – a Certificate of Indenture – was drawn up.

An apprentice’s Certificate of Indenture.
Note the wavy ‘indented’ line at the top of the page.

Depending on the craft or trade that the apprentice wished to enter, he might find the act of finding a master to teach him, to be easier than he might expect. It was very common for the children of master craftsmen to follow in the professions of their fathers. In this instance, the apprentice’s own father would train them in their chosen profession. In this way, generations of craftsmen could all work within a single family, and many famous craftsmen throughout history, entered their professions this way. Paul Revere, of Revolutionary War fame, was apprenticed to his father, who was a silversmith. John Harrison, the famous clockmaker, was apprenticed to his father, who was a carpenter. But just because you got to join the family business didn’t mean that you could escape the strictures of the day – you still had to fill out your certificate, sign it, and agree to it.

The certificate – colloquially known as one’s “indentures” or “indenture papers” – was a contract between the Master Craftsman, and the Apprentice. It stipulated in black and white what the Master owed his apprentice, and likewise, what the Apprentice owed the Master. Both parties would sign the indentures (there was always at least two) and then it was certified by a legal official such as a notary, judge, or a member of the guild.

Silversmith Paul Revere Junior,
holding a silver teapot

The document was then sealed, dated, and finally – torn in half. The wavy, curving lines that were made along the break in the paper was what gave the document its name – the line wasn’t straight – it was never straight – it was always ‘indented’ – wavering, irregular and erratic. This is why the documents were known as ‘indentures’. This was done deliberately so that it would be impossible for either party to create a fake agreement later on, changing any of the terms or conditions previously agreed upon, since both documents had to be presented at the same time, and they both had to match up along the same wavy, indented line when they were put together.

Apprenticeships lasted a very long time – the usual length of time was seven years. In this way, an apprentice completed his apprenticeship when he was in his early twenties. In that seven years, an apprentice was expected to learn, and be taught, all the skills and tips and tricks of his chosen trade or profession. Apprentices typically did all the grunt-work. Looking after tools, doing the simple, unskilled jobs, cleaning the workshop, lighting the fire, understanding how the implements and tools were used, and how various techniques and finishes were applied or carried out.

Near the end of their apprenticeships, to prove that they were paying attention, and actually knew what they were doing, apprentices had to pass, what we would today, call a ‘practical examination’. In this, they had to prove their skills to their master by creating what was called a ‘journeyman piece’ – this piece would incorporate all the various skills, techniques and methods that they had learned throughout their apprenticeships, and the better it was, the more likely they were to progress in their profession. Tailors had to make clothes, carpenters might make furniture, a cabinetmaker might try to build a chest of drawers, a silversmith might try to make a silver beaker or tumbler, and so on.

The point of the journeyman piece was to show that he had attained the necessary skills to move up to the next rank – that of a journeyman craftsman. If he had, then he had successfully completed his apprenticeship, and could move on upwards…

The Journeyman

The next step up for the budding craftsman was to be a journeyman. A journeyman was any craftsman or skilled tradesman who had successfully completed the contract of his indenture, and was now considered to have mastered the basics of his craft. The next thing he had to do was to gain experience. Experience was gained by working as an employee of a master craftsman. Not an apprentice – who was a student – but as an actual paid worker.

The word ‘Journeyman’ comes from the French ‘Journee’ – meaning ‘day’ – a craftsman had now advanced from being an apprentice, to being a day-labourer – someone who was literally paid per-day of work by his employer. Journeymen were more free in their work than apprentices – they could have their own families and private lives, they could own their own property and come and go from work each day as they pleased. This was in contrast with an apprentice, who typically lived with his master in his master’s house, with the master expected to feed, clothe, and house, as well as train and educate his pupil.

While journeymen were apprentices who had successfully completed their apprenticeships, they were not yet considered fully-fledged artisans in the sense that they did not have the right to employ someone else to work under them, however, a journeyman – again, unlike an apprentice – had the right to demand payment for their day’s work.

If, or when, a journeyman decided that he had had enough of working for ‘the man’, then a journeyman could, if he had the skill, apply to become a master craftsman. Just as an apprentice had to complete a journeyman piece to become a journeyman, a journeyman had to complete a masterpiece in order to become a master craftsman. However, while a journeyman piece was judged by a master, a masterpiece was not judged by another master – but by several masters!

See, the only way to actually join a guild was to prove to the master craftsmen of that guild that you deserved the privilege, and had the skills, to make it worthwhile to accept you as a member. So if you wanted to try and become a master craftsman, then your masterpiece was submitted – not to one master – but to several masters! And if they all agreed that your masterpiece really was a masterpiece – and that you had shown that you had exceptional skill – you would be granted the title of master!

The Master Craftsman

As a Master Craftsman, you were now able to carry out your desired trade as you wished. This meant that you could open your own business, hire apprentices, set your own prices, and decide what, when, why, where, and how you worked. However, there were still restrictions.

See, to be a master craftsman, you had to follow a sort of ‘Code of Conduct’, and to ensure that you did follow this code, a lot of cities insisted that any craftsman or skilled labourer working within the bounds of the city had to register themselves with the guildhall of their specific craft. So, you might be a master silversmith, but you couldn’t work as a silversmith in a city without first registering yourself as a silversmith at the city’s silversmithing guildhall.

Registering with your specific guild meant that you had to follow specific rules and regulations. While you were free to do what you wanted, more or less, you were also prevented from doing certain things – for example – you couldn’t talk about your profession – guilds existed to protect the interests of their members – and these interests included any trade or industrial secrets, processes or methods which their members carried out – so you couldn’t divulge secret recipes, or special methods or experiments – to anybody outside the guild. Punishments for doing so were surprisingly severe, and usually included some form of public humiliation.

While this might sound extreme, being a master craftsman or merchant registered with your particular guild also came with a lot of perks – paying your membership fees ensured all kinds of benefits, and guilds operated specifically to benefit their members. The very word “guild” comes from the German word “Gelt” and the Old English word “Gield” – meaning “Payment, or money”.

In this way, guilds were a sort of insurance firm or benevolent society – they provided financial assistance to help master craftsmen start up their own businesses, provided poor relief if they lost their business, shared trade secrets, and regulated working conditions.

Unsurprisingly, guilds could become extremely powerful – so much so that they could, if they desired, not pay, or pay very few – taxes – especially if the guild handled a trade or craft that was particularly important.

The Decline of the Guilds

Guilds and their guildhalls remained prominent through much of the Middle Ages (476AD – ca. 1400), the Renaissance (1400-1600) and much of the Early Modern period (ca. 1600-1800). However, by the time of the Vcitorian era, guilds started losing a lot of the prominence, power and influence that they had once held for over a thousand years. Many factors led to their eventual downfall.

Guilds carried out a lot of functions – they regulated prices, training, education, keeping of records, and countless other things – but they were also – in a sense – monopolies. If you wanted to trade as a particular craftsman or merchant within a particular city – you had to join the city guild dedicated to that craft or area of merchandise – no ifs, no buts – no join, no sell. Simple as that.

A lot of traders and craftsmen started seeing this as being detrimental to their trade – after all – why should a guildhall determine how much you can sell your stuff for? Why should it be a law that you HAD to join the guild just to trade within the city boundaries? Fair enough, they kept records and oversaw apprenticeships, but craftsmen and artisans started feeling that some guilds were simply getting too powerful for their own good, and shifting attitudes in the Victorian era saw guilds gradually decrease in power over the next hundred years.

By the mid-1800s, guilds had lost much of their power. Changing attitudes about work, and how trade and industrial secrets should be protected, sapped the guilds of their authority. Political changes such as the French Revolution of 1789, and the “Year of Revolutions” (1848), caused the guilds in many cities, sovereign states and city-states across Europe to be dissolved, and their functions taken over by modern companies and businesses, with laws enacted to cover the areas once protected or regulated by the guild system.

Guilds Today?

Guilds as we tend to think of them – as in, the Medieval European guilds, do not exist anymore. Guildhalls remain as historical landmarks and heritage protected buildings, but the organisations they housed are largely lost to history. Some organisations call themselves guilds, although this is mostly as a professional courtesy or nostalgic throwback, rather than having any actual resemblance to medieval guilds.

In London, there do still exist a number of “Worshipful Companies”, which operate similar to guilds, but the number of institutions that exist today, which are most like real medieval guilds are fast disappearing, if indeed they still exist.

Antique Tortoiseshell Dining Trousse

 

Chopsticks have always fascinated me. They’re simple, elegant, portable, robust, and compact. And, once you’ve mastered the use of chopsticks – almost anything can be used as chopsticks – I remember Jackie Chan in one of his early movies, where his character was trying to have lunch in his office – unable to find any actual chopsticks to eat his noodles with, he gave up and used a pair of pencils, instead!

Although these days, it’s common in many Asian households to have an entire drawer-compartment overflowing with chopsticks, and the only problem you face is trying to match them up when you need a pair to eat lunch with, in times past, chopsticks were highly-prized personal possessions, and it was common for people to each have their own pair. In some countries – such as Japan – this is still the case. At a time when chopsticks were hard to come by, once you owned a pair – you carried it with you everywhere!

Such was the case, when this trousse was made!

What is a Chopstick Trousse?

‘Trousse’ is a French word, which variously means “kit”, “case” or a type of compartmentalised container, used for storing implements, tools or utensils required for a specific task. This is a chopstick trousse, and its task is…eating!

Chopstick trousses were created back in the 1700s in northern China. Their use was encouraged after a law was passed by the Qianlong Emperor, which decreed that all Manchu-Chinese had to carry around a pair of chopsticks, and a knife, with which to eat their food. Manchurian and Mongolian dining habits and styles meant that a knife was an essential part of one’s eating utensils, since the knife would be used to slice or cut up one’s meat. The passing of this law was to ensure the preservation of Manchurian culture, since Manchus were a minority elite, ruling over the much larger Han Chinese population at the time.

A lot of people call these things Chinese or Japanese eating trousses. I’m not sure why, because they don’t come from Japan, and while they existed in China, they were never used by the Chinese. Japanese and Chinese dining customs don’t use knives – they didn’t then, they don’t now. Trousses like these were largely used by minorities.

The standard chopstick trousse comes with a single, thin, long-bladed knife, and a pair of chopsticks, which may, or may not be chained at the top (to prevent loss if they fall out). I have seen sets with two knives, and two sets of chopsticks, but the vast majority will have just the one knife, and one set of chopsticks.

The case, with the chopsticks and knife.

How is it Made?

Almost all trousses were made of wood – wood is easy to find, easy to carve and shape, and easy to stick together. This trousse is also made of wood. How trousses differed from each other, however, was in how they were decorated. Trousses could be embellished in any number of ways, from inlaying bone or silver, brass or nickel, leather, sharkskin, stingray, or in the case of my trousse – tortoiseshell.

The tortoiseshell – thin and flexible, would have been steamed – much like how you steam wood – to soften it – and when it was especially soft and flexible, the tortoiseshell was wrapped around the wooden body of the trousse, with a layer of glue in between, to adhere one to the other. A similar process would’ve been carried out to sheath the knife-handle in the same tortoiseshell.

What is it Made Of?

This trousse is made of wood (which makes up the body of the trousse and the handle on the knife), brass (the collar at the top of the trousse), tortoiseshell (the decorative overlay), silver (the chopsticks) and finally – the white collar and pommel on the knife are both made of bone. Bone was a very common material to make trousse accessories from – chopsticks, knife scales, hilts, collars and pommels were all made from bone. It was abundant, cheap, or free, easy to carve, and could be polished to a beautiful whiteness – and much easier to find than ivory!

Are Trousses Common?

Fairly common, yes. I suspect that millions of these things were made over the centuries, and that many were probably brought to the West by expats, explorers, missionaries or tourists traveling in Asia in the 1800s and 1900s. They range in price on eBay from $150.00 to over $300-$500, depending on age, condition, and level of decoration and detail. I don’t know exactly who collects these things, but there does seem to be an interest in them.

Repairing the Trousse

The trousse was pretty cheap when I bought it – this was largely due to the fact that it wasn’t complete at the time. The trousse didn’t come with its original chopsticks, which were probably bone, so I replaced them with my silver chopsticks which I bought about two years ago. On top of that, some of the tortoiseshell was also coming loose. I removed the tortoiseshell and glued it back on. Once it was secured, then I started working on another part of the trousse that needed my attention: the pommel at the top of the knife.

The point of the pommel is to protect the top of the knife handle. In this case, the pommel was missing, but I could tell from the hilt or the collar at the end of the blade next to the handle, that it would originally have been made of bone. I was able to secure some small pieces of bone, and, using a file, some sandpaper, glue and oil, I was able to shape the bone, glue it onto the top of the knife, file and sand it flat, polish it smooth, and shape it to the shape of the top of the handle.

Although it’s a tiny detail, just fixing this one element took several hours of filing, shaping, measuring, sawing, gluing, filing, and more filing, and finally, polishing, to get the new pommel not only to stay on top of the knife, but also fit in with the thickness and shape of the rest of the knife and its bone hilt, as well. It’s not 100% perfect, but at least the knife now looks much more complete than it previously had done.

A Classic of Luxury and Status: The Montblanc Meisterstuck 149 – Part II – Spotting Fake Montblancs

 

The Montblanc Meisterstuck #149. A pen of legendary, mythical proportions. Much has been said about this pen, and much has been written about this pen…and…much has been written with this pen. I’ve wanted one for years, but was constantly put off buying one because of their massive price-tags ($1,200AUD+, at the time of this posting).

But then, Saint Nibby, Patron Saint of Fountain Pens, decided to throw some luck my way – and I was able to buy a vintage Montblanc Meisterstuck 149 at auction – as part of a box lot of pens – at a price which was about 80% cheaper than its current retail price. You bet I jumped at it!

Before taking that plunge, however, I spent a lot of time examining the pen, before deciding to bid on it. While the pen was vintage, and secondhand…it was still a Montblanc, with everything that comes along with it – including a high price. So you bet I took a bloody long time to examine that pen in detail, before deciding to toss even a bent penny towards it.

Fortunately, the pen I bought was 100% legitimate, and 100% vintage – made in West Germany in the 1980s, and sold out of a jewelry shop in Hong Kong on the 22nd of December, 1989 – I know this, because the Montblanc Instruction Manual that came with the pen had all this information written inside it. So, 30 years ago, someone bought someone else a very expensive Christmas present!

In my case, I got lucky. But there are people out there who are not so lucky. Unfortunately – all famous brands are faked. Louis Vuitton, Rolex, Montblanc and countless others, are often the victims of forgeries and fakes, and every year, hundreds of people pay massive amounts of money for something that isn’t what they were hoping it was.

Now, you might think – what does it really matter, if the fake is good quality, and didn’t break the bank? Is it really an issue?

Yes. For two reasons.

  1. If it’s a fake, it won’t be covered by warranties or return-policies. If the item gets damaged and needs to be repaired or replaced – the company won’t honour its end of the bargain, because you didn’t honour your end of the bargain by buying a genuine item.
  2. If you try and sell the item later on – nobody will want to buy it from you, and you’ll be stuck with something that you can’t get rid of.

Now, I understand that not everybody goes out looking to buy a fake, and that some people do get caught up in nets of deceit and lies. So, how do you spot a fake? Or to be precise – How do you spot a fake Montblanc Meisterstuck 146 or 149 fountain pen?

This guide is going to be written assuming that you don’t have any (or much) experience in buying Montblanc fountain pens. We’re taking simple, easy baby steps here, and will, by and large, be sticking to one or two models: The Meisterstuck 146, and the larger and more famous 149. There’s a lot of things to consider when buying a Montbanc fountain pen, and a LOT of things to be weary of, when dealing with fakes.

Montblanc Fountain Pens – Spotting a Fake

Selling vintage and secondhand pens is a very lucrative business. There are dealers and collectors out there who are able to make a pretty decent living, just from flipping old pens, repairing them, cleaning them, and putting them back out onto the open market. This is great for writers, or pen collectors, because it means that they can get great pens at discount prices, which perhaps they wouldn’t ordinarily be able to afford. But as always in the secondhand market – Caveat Emptor – Buyer Beware.

Whether you’re buying a vintage Montblanc online (eBay, Facebook Groups, secondhand dealer, antiques store) or in-person (auction house, flea-market, pen show, etc), there are certain things you should be aware of, before dropping hundreds, or even thousands, of dollars, on a Montblanc pen. As a pen collector and writer of many years’ experience, I’m going to share a few tips with you – here are some things to look out for…

How Much Does It Cost?

This might sound like a stupid thing to pay attention to, I know – but hear me out. Let’s say you find a Montblanc, secondhand, on eBay, or Facebook, and you want to buy it. Pay attention to the asking price – especially if it’s being sold by an “official distributor” (pfft, yeah right).

Brand-new Montblanc pens cost STUPID CRAZY amounts of money. Hundreds, thousands, even TENS of thousands of dollars EACH. Nobody selling Montblancs – whether they’re brand new, or vintage – is going to let them go for dirt-cheap. If you see someone trying to sell you a Montblanc for under $200…pick up your wallet and RUN AWAY. Real Montblancs are bloody hard to win at auction, and difficult to find secondhand for good money – so anyone who ever bought one to resell it is not going to give it away for nothing. If the person trying to sell you that ‘Montblanc’ is giving you a deal too good to refuse – then you should probably refuse it.

That said, just because a Montblanc online is really expensive doesn’t mean that it’s real, either. You can charge whatever the hell you want for a piece of crap…and it’s still going to be crap…it’s just going to be really expensive – and worthless – crap. So what else can you do to find out whether a pen is real or not? Keep reading, below…

How Many do they Have?

Another way to spot a fake, is to ask the dealer or seller how many Montblancs they have for sale. Make up some bullshit-story like you need six identical 146s, for your groomsmen at your wedding or something – and see what the dealer says. If they automatically say ‘Yes!’…then back away very, very slowly.

Most vintage pen dealers will not be able to afford dozens of Montblancs. If someone suddenly claims to have six identical ones, or more, and they’re going to sell them to you at bargain prices, then they’re either very rich…or very fake. In twenty five years of writing, and twenty years of collecting fountain pens, I’ve only ever owned four Montblancs – and only two of those I bought with my own money, and only because they were absolute bargains secondhand.

Regardless of what the model is, Montblancs are that bloody expensive to buy brand-new, that most people just can’t justify the price. Only someone with hundreds of fakes lying around, will be able to fulfill a request like selling you six or nine or twelve Montblancs all at once.

What’s the Packaging Like?

A NEW Montblanc pen comes in exquisite packaging. Everything is crisp, clean, two-toned black and white, with foam padding and soft, silk-like interiors.

No Montblanc will ever be sold, brand-new, in some cheap, velveteen slip-pouch, or some leather pen-sleeve. All Montblanc pens are sold in-box – sometimes (but not always) with a complimentary bottle of ink, and other trinkets (my 145 Meisterstuck c/c filler came with a CD of Chopin piano music).

Check all Online Photographs

If you’re buying the pen online – ask the dealer for photographs – clear, high resolution photographs – of the clip, the cap-bands, the engravings, the ink-window, the nib and the filling mechanism of the pen.

No seller of fake Montblancs will ever oblige with these photographs. And if they do – then they’re hoping that you’re going to be stupid enough to not-know that they’re selling fake Montblancs. Someone selling a real Montblanc will always do their best to give you the best photographs they possibly can. So, what should you pay attention to?

I am so glad you asked…

Fake Montblanc Fountain Pens – What to Look For

As I said earlier – the Montblanc Meisterstuck 149 has a current retail price of – depending on where you bought it – $900 – $1,200+.

For that kind of money, you expect to buy something that is – in every way possible – the very definition of writing perfection. A Montblanc 149 should be literally flawless in all respects, with absolutely nothing wrong with it at all in any capacity whatsoever.

Fakes always have something wrong with them.

So – what wrong things should you be looking for?

Check the Nib

First thing’s first – check the nib.

A REAL Montblanc fountain pen nib is made of 14 or 18kt gold. They always have been, and always will be. Every Montblanc nib has “4810” on it (the height of Mont Blanc in meters), and the purity of the gold in ’14k’ or ’18k’, with either 585 or 750, underneath. In case you’re wondering – that stands for 58.5% gold, or 75% gold (the rest is copper, to give the nib strength and durability). Gold purity changes on Montblanc nibs across their pen-range. Some pens have 14k, others have 18k. But this isn’t set in stone. My 145 and 149 both have 14k nibs, but I have seen other MB 146s and 149s which have 18k nibs.

Nib porn!

What is consistent is that the nibs are always two-toned – gold, and silver (although it’s actually rhodium). Again, there’s no set system to this and the same model of pen can alternate between 14k and 18k, two-tone with gold exterior and rhodium interior, gold interior and rhodium exterior, gold with a rhodium band…the designs change constantly, to keep things fresh.

With that said – how the hell do you tell what a real Montblanc nib is? Here’s how:

If your ‘Montblanc’ has a nib that says “IPG” or “Iridium Point Germany” on it – run away.

If the engraving on your Montblanc nib isn’t utterly gorgeous and flawless in every way possible – run away.

If your Montblanc nib is engraved AT ALL – run away. Montblanc nibs are formed and molded – NOT engraved.

If the nib is scratchy or otherwise defective – then it’s not a real Montblanc nib. If the pen is secondhand, then it may be a real Montblanc, of which the nib was damaged, which would have to be reformed or replaced – but no Monblanc fresh out of the box, will have a defective nib of any kind – remember – $1,200 pen here. A brand new Montblanc with a defective nib is like a brand-new Rolls Royce with a massive dent in the passenger-door…it does not exist.

If the nib looks like gold-plated steel – then it’s not a real Montblanc. All Montblanc pens, without exception – have solid gold nibs. Even if you dropped the pen and sent it back to the factory to have it repaired – the new nib will be solid gold. There is no such thing as a Montblanc fountain pen with a steel nib. They do not exist. If you see one – it’s a fake.

Check the Cap Bands

Montblanc pens are famous for their cap-bands – the three gold rings near the bottom of the cap.

When fountain pens were first invented in the 1890s – caps did not have bands. They were added in as an afterthought in the 1910s and 20s, to reinforce the cap, and prevent it from cracking and splitting from someone screwing the cap onto the pen too tightly. To a certain extent, cap bands still fulfill this function, although these days, they’re largely decorative in nature.

So – you might as well enjoy the decoration, and take a nice, close look at it.

The seam between the cap-rings and the cap should be flawless. The engravings on the cap-bands with the company name, and the model number or name of the pen, should also be flawless. Remember, you’re paying for a pen which costs hundreds, or even thousands of dollars – it had bloody well better be perfect!

If there’s any flaws at all – it’s not a real Montblanc – put it down, and back away.

Check the Resin Body

Here’s another one you may not be aware of – Montblanc pens are made of a particular type of resin plastic, designed to be scratch resistant, and highly lustrous. Pick up the pen – unscrew the cap and hold it up to the light – or, failing that – shine a light-source through the cap.

A REAL Montblanc cap is not actually completely black – it’s translucent – light shines THROUGH the cap – and it shines through as a very dark, maroon wine red colour.

If your cap doesn’t have that dark red translucency when you shine a light through it – yep – it’s fake!

Check the Filling System

Unless it’s a 144, a 145 (which are cartridge and/or converter fountain pens), or one of Montblanc’s older, lower-tier vintage models, almost without exception – all Montblanc fountain pens are piston-filling fountain pens with striated ink windows above the section threads.

What is a piston-filling fountain pen? Perhaps you don’t know? No problem!

A piston-fill pen is a fountain pen with an IN-BUILT filling mechanism whereby ink is sucked INTO the pen using a piston mechanism. This is operated by turning the piston-knob at the top of the pen, under the blind-cap (in the case of Montblanc pens, the blind-cap and the piston-knob are one-and-the-same).

No Montblanc fountain pen larger than a 145 will ever have a separate – removable – piston-converter – inside it. The way to fill a pen such as a 146, or a 149, is to:

  1. Uncap the pen.
  2. Insert the pen into a bottle of ink.
  3. Unscrew the blind cap at the top of the pen, as far as it will comfortably go (DO NOT FORCE IT).
  4. Screw the blind cap back down until it’s secure.
  5. Remove the pen from the bottle of ink, and wipe down the nib.

If someone is trying to sell you a Montblanc 149 or 146, or any other Montblanc pen which has a piston-filler mechanism inside it – and says that they have “extra refills” for sale – or spare converters, or something – run away.

Nobody who is selling a 146 or the larger 149, and knows what it is – will say that it takes ‘refills’ – there is NO SUCH THING as a ‘refill’ for a Montblanc 149 fountain pen – the only ‘refill’ that exists is a bottle of fountain pen ink, and that is the only thing they take. If someone shows you photographs of their Montblanc Meisterstuck 149, which they have for sale, and the pen has been pulled apart at the section, just above the nib – then either the pen is fake, or they’ve just snapped a $1,200 pen in half.

Look for the Ink Window

While we’re on the subject of filling up the pen – another thing that usually differentiates a real Montblanc from a fake one is the presence of the ink-window on all Montblanc Meisterstuck 146 and 149 piston-fill fountain pens.

The ink window is that little striped clear area on the pen barrel, just above the section threads. The point of the ink window is so that you can see the ink inside the pen…duh! Real Meisterstucks have ink windows…fake ones do not. If your Meisterstuck 149 or 146 does not have an ink window, it’s not real. While we’re on it, the 145 doesn’t have an ink window because it’s a converter pen, and therefore doesn’t need one.

Check the Clip

When buying a suspect Montblanc, check the clip at the top of the cap. Since about 1990, every Montblanc fountain pen has been sold with a SERIAL NUMBER engraved into the clip-band at the top of the cap. The number is ALWAYS on the ring to the RIGHT of the clip and every serial number is unique. No two pens ever have the same number.

Montblanc Meisterstucks – made in the decadent and extravagant capitalist bastion of West Germany!

While we’re looking at the clip – check for the word “PIX”. This is usually underneath the clip itself and is part of the clip – so if it’s been engraved in separately, then it’s not real.

Check the Paperwork

If the pen comes with any type of paperwork, or extras like cartridges or a converter or something – look at the text on them. In particular, check the spelling of “Montblanc”.

Yes, I’m serious.

The company name is MONTBLANC – Not Monblanc, not Mont Blanc, not Mount Blanc. It is – MONTBLANC – one word. There is a “Mont Blanc” – which is the name of a mountain in France – after which the company is named. But the actual company itself has always been called MONTBLANC. If it isn’t – then it ain’t real.

Fake? Or Just Old?

All the information posted above, relates, by and large, to modern Montblanc fountain pens, manufactured, and sold, right now.

It does not necessarily relate to vintage, or antique Montblanc pens.

Because Montblanc pens are so expensive, it can be tempting to buy a secondhand one, vintage, online, or at a flea-market or something like that. And there is nothing wrong with that. The problem arises when you have to decide if the pen you’re buying is a fake…or just old?

Older Montblanc pens (Pre-1990, generally) will not have “PIX” on them anywhere. They will not have serial numbers, and the packaging may appear rather simplistic by modern standards – but that doesn’t mean that they are not Montblancs. For example – vintage Montblanc 149s had “149” actually stamped into the blind-cap at the back of the pen – did you know that? Did you also know that they used to be made of celluloid, not resin plastic?

And let’s not forget that the Montblanc 149 was introduced in 1952. This means that the pen is very much a product of its time – and that time was the Cold War.

So what does this mean for Montblanc? Well, it means that the clip-ring at the top of the pen says “W-GERMANY”, not just “GERMANY”. Why? Because it was produced in West Germany, during the Cold War. This is just one of the many subtle changes to Montblanc pens that you should be aware of, if you decide to go out and buy a secondhand or vintage model.

Closing Statements

Well, there you have it! How to spot a fake Montblanc 149 Meisterstuck (or any of its little brothers). I tried to make this as succinct a guide as possible, but the fact is that fakes are getting so much better these days that you really can’t leave anything out.

If you’re buying a Montblanc online or secondhand from anyone who isn’t a registered Montblanc distributor, or from the company itself, you really do have to be very careful. Fakes are certainly out there, and you can end up buying one, if you’re not careful – a friend of mine did that a few years ago at a pen show. It was a hard pill to swallow.

A Classic of Luxury and Status: The Montblanc Meisterstuck “149” – Part I

 

My first love has always been the art of writing. I love just being able to relax, and let my mind run free. I love being able to let thoughts flow and form as they will, and transcribe them into something strange and wonderful, weird and whimsical.

For this reason, the right type of writing instrument has always been very important to me. Just as a concert pianist will insist on a Steinway, or a violinist will insist on a Stradivarius, or a chef will insist on Wusthoff, writers who want to use quality writing instruments also insist on certain brands of pens. In America, names like Parker, Sheaffer, Waterman, and Wahl-Eversharp spring to mind. In Japan, companies like Pilot or Namiki, or Sailor are most prominent. In Europe, you have Visconti, Conway-Stewart, and Pelikan.

But of all these dozens of pen-companies from all over the world, one particular company – and one particular model – has always stood out. That company is Montblanc, and the pen, is the Meisterstuck 149.

Much has been said, written and filmed, about the Meisterstuck 149, and in this posting, I’ll be going into a bit of the pen’s history, and why it has attained such a position as it has, among the world of not only writing, but of luxury products in general.

What is ‘Montblanc’?

Montblanc is a luxury retail company founded in Germany in 1906. The name comes from “Mont Blanc”, the tallest mountain in Europe. Mont Blanc, which is located in France, was taken as the company’s name to symbolise the fact that this company was the pinnacle of excellence in every way possible. The white star on the cap of every Montblanc pen is meant to represent the white snowcap of Mont Blanc, and the “4810” on every nib represents the mountain’s height in meters.

While today, Montblanc make all kinds of products, from leathergoods to watches and a wide range of writing instruments – originally – Montblanc was simply a pen company – and its goal was to make simple, good-quality, no-nonsense pens that worked.

What is a ‘Meisterstuck’?

In 1924, Montblanc introduced a new line of pens: The Meisterstuck (“Masterpiece”) Line (“Mys-ter-stook”), which was intended to be the company’s first-tier, first-class, top-quality range of luxury writing instruments! Between 1924 through the 1930s and 40s, Montblanc experimented with various models and styles, partially inspired by streamline styling which was highly fashionable in the late 20s and early 30s and 40s.

My West-German Montblanc Meisterstuck 149 (Ca. 1980)

Based in Hamburg, a major German port-town, Montblanc’s facilities were flattened by the Allies during World War Two as the British and Americans aimed to cripple as much as possible, Germany’s manufacturing (and therefore, war-making) capabilities. When the war was over, however, Montblanc and Hamburg found itself in the new West German republic. Eager to turn over a new leaf and bring prosperity back, Montblanc rebuilt itself and went back to manufacturing their fabled Meisterstuck line, complete with the white star logo, and lifetime guarantees on all its pens.

What is a ‘149’?

The Montblanc Meisterstuck #149 is the company’s most famous pen-model BY FAR. It is instantly recognisible to any collector of fountain pens, or follower of pop culture, or connoisseur of luxury products.

But…why? Why this pen? Why this particular model? What makes it so special? And for that matter – what does ‘149’ even mean?

‘149’ refers to the original coding system used by Montblanc, when this particular model was introduced in 1952. “1” refers to the product-line. In this case – the Meisterstuck Line. “4” referred to the filling mechanism (pens with ‘4’ were piston-fillers), and the “9” referred to the size of the nib. So a Model 149 was a Meisterstuck piston-filler with a #9 nib.

MB 149 (left) next to the much smaller MB 145

From the 1950s to the 60s and 70s, Meisterstuck 149s were made of celluloid plastic – the same substance used to make similar fountain pens in the 1920s and 30s. Celluloid plastic is very strong (Parker used to chuck their pens out of office windows to prove their durability!), but it has one drawback – it discolours. Blues darken, reds fade, greens turn brown and black can fade to brown. In the case of Montblanc 149s, the striated ink-window, just above the section would discolour to a unsightly yellow-brown colour.

This is why, in the 80s and 90s (and still today), Montbanc pens started being made out of a more stable resin plastic, which was smoother, more colour-fast, was more resistant to scratching and staining, and held a high-gloss finish better than celluloid did.

Montblanc and Status

Like Tiffany & Company, Rolex, Louis Vuitton and Moet & Chandon, the name ‘Montblanc’ has, for over 100 years, been a hallmark of quality, and a status-symbol. But what was it that earned Montblanc pens, and particularly, the 149, this particular status?

One of the main reasons why Montblanc has attained the position that it has was because of the state of American manufacturing.

Between the 1850s to the 1950s, America, Germany and Britain really competed in the market of consumer-goods. Duesenberg, Rolls Royce, Parker, Sheaffer, Singer, Siedel & Naumann, Saville Row, Rolex, Royal, Remington-Rand, Ball, Hamilton, Waltham, Elgin…at one point, all these companies were household names. But how many of them do you actually recognise?

Up until about 1960, American manufacturing was among the best in the world. American watch companies like Waltham, Ball, Elgin, Gruen and Hampden, made the best watches in the world, comparable with anything made in Europe. The same was true of American pen companies like Parker, Sheaffer, and Waterman. But American manufacturing of high-quality consumer-goods took a BIG hit post-WWII, so much so that by the late 1950s, almost all these companies had either died off, or were bought out or moved manufacturing offshore – for example, Parker ended up in England and Waterman ended up in France…where they still are today.

The collapse of the American pen manfacturing industry meant that other companies – mostly European ones, started taking over. Brands like Pelikan, or Conway Stewart, Onoto, Swan and…Montblanc…started replacing Parker, Sheaffer and Waterman while these companies were in transition between new owners…or in the case of companies like Wahl-Eversharp – dying a slow and quiet death.

But why did Montblanc, of all companies, rise to fore? Why not some other company?

Part of it had to do with marketing. Companies like Conway Stewart, Onoto or Platignum (yes, there is a ‘g’ in there) did not make ‘luxury’ pens – they made solid second-tier everyday writing pens. They were not interested in making luxury products – they merely wanted to make nice products which were attractive, and worked, and which were affordable to the everyperson in the street.

Montblanc, on the other hand, was really aiming for that high-end market. With American pen manufacturing companies in limbo in the 1950s, companies like Montblanc surged forwards to fill in the luxury market once held by Parker and Sheaffer, and the company’s list of customers and clients started to grow.

The rise of the 149

As Montblanc started taking over in the 1950s, replacing or outselling other pen companies, people started taking notice – especially when it brought out the 149.

It’s fair to say that in the 1940s, 50s and 60s – most companies were not producing huge pens. Parker made a few Oversized English Duofolds, but the vast majority of pens made during this time were rather standard-sized – so this would’ve made an oversized luxury pen, such as the 149 – stand out even more. And because it stood out so much more, people started taking notice of it. People like President John F. Kennedy, and English writer Iris Murdoch. Kennedy’s use of the Montblanc 149 is particularly notable because it was used during a major televised event, which did much to boost the pen’s popularity and notoriety.

Ever since, the Montblanc 149 has been a status symbol. Rightly or wrongly, it’s a pen that everybody recognises, and which most people have heard of. Its classic black and gold profile has been imitated by countless manufacturers, both expensive and cheap, and has appeared in countless magazines, movies and television shows for decades now. It has been used by famous actors, world leaders and celebrities the world over, and continues to enjoy the reputation that it has held for nearly seventy years!

The Montblanc Meisterstuck 149 – A Pen Review

In closing off this article, I thought I’d write an actual review of the pen. So, here goes…

Value for Money

There is no denying that the Montblanc 149 is a very expensive pen. Where I’m at, they currently retail for about $1,250.00. In an age when most people would struggle to justify spending $50.00 on a fountain pen, and when most collectors would struggle to spend $250.00 on a fountain pen, it is by far, one of the most expensive models out there.

Good thing I did’t pay that much. I got mine secondhand at auction, and paid just over $200 for it, which is about 80% cheaper than the RRP!!

But, the actual price aside – is the pen value for money?

In my opinion – yes. Status and branding aside, the 149 is a solidly constructed pen. While some say that a lot of the price goes into the status and the branding and the image, I would also argue that a lot of the price goes into the quality of the manufacturing – after all, you’re buying something from a company with a big reputation, and with a big reputation to lose, if what you buy isn’t absolutely first-class, for the money you just spent on it.

The 149 is a very robust pen. It’s well-made, it’s elegant, and they last for decades with minimal maintenance. Occasional cleaning to prevent buildup of dried ink, and the odd nib-polishing will keep the pen fresh, clean and functional for many decades – the model I bought was made back in the 80s, and I didn’t have to do a single thing to it, to get it to work.

Ease of Use

Is the Montblanc 149 comfortable to use? Yes, it is. The plastic resin is smooth to the hand, and the nib writes like ice on glass. For such a large pen, it is actually surprisingly light in the hand, which means that your wrist and fingers won’t feel weighed down or unbalanced while writing – very important for a pen which you might spend a lot of time using!

The only slight issue is the pen’s size. While it isn’t heavy, it is long. And this may cause discomfort for some people in the sense that the pen may be unbalanced if you try and write with it, with the cap posted. If you have larger hands, then this might not be a problem (in fact, it may be an advantage), but in general, writing with this pen posted isn’t my idea of comfortable.

The Filling Mechanism

The 149 has a built-in piston filling mechanism. Unscrewing the end-cap forces the plunger down, expelling ink, and screwing the cap back down draws ink up, as the plunger is pulled back up. On my pen, this action is smooth and without issue. On some vintage MB 149s, the piston may become stiff from years of use.

To repair this, the piston-unit itself must be removed from the pen, and a fresh layer of silicone grease must be applied to the piston, before the unit is screwed back into the pen. To avoid damaging the screw-threads, a special piston wrench should be used, to remove the unit from the pen, and to reinstall it after fresh lubricant has been applied.

Any potential faults aside, though, I found the filling mechanism to be smooth and easy to use, and the ink window was clear and easy to use to gauge the amount of ink inside the pen. One advantage of a piston-filler over, say, a converter-filler pen or a cartridge pen, is that they do hold considerably more ink than a pen of similar size which is not a piston-filler. If you do a lot of writing, or if you’re planning on traveling a lot, and need a pen with high ink capacity, then this is certainly an area where the 149 has a distinct advantage.

The Nib

This pen has a 14kt gold nib, which is a sort of…wet, Medium-Fine. Wet nibs are better in the sense that they write smoother, with the ink lubricating the pen-point, but at the same time, overly wet nibs can be a struggle on cheaper paper, with the excess ink soaking through the page, and causing bleed-through and feathering.

In my experience, even FINE Montblanc nibs are quite wet, though. If you like wet nibs, then this isn’t going to be a problem for you, but you may need to upgrade your paper-game a bit, to find something that doesn’t feather like mad. Rhodia paper seems to be quite compatible in this regard.

Size of the Pen

The Montblanc 149 is one of the largest pens out there. While it’s light, and this makes it easier to write with, it’s also very chunky and quite long. It is sold as an “oversized” pen, after all, and certainly lives up to that! If you have especially Trumpian hands, then the MB 149 might not be for you, because of just how thick and chunky the section is. Trying to get your fingers around something so large might be awkward.

However, people with average and larger-sized hands should have no problem gripping the pen. In fact, larger sections can sometimes be an advantage in writing, because they spread the fingers out more, and make for a more relaxed, comfortable writing experience, rather than forcing all the fingers to cramp up around a small section.

Should you Buy a 149?

That can be a tricky question to answer. Is it worth the money? I think yes. Is it easy to use? Yes, unless you have particularly small hands (so for example, if you’re a smaller lady, or if you have particularly small hands, I would reconsider it and choose something else). Is it easy to fill and operate? Yes. It is lightweight and balanced? Yes. Is it going to get you noticed?

Oh Hell yes!

About the only caveat I would put on buying a Montblanc 149, is the price. As I said right at the start – the Montblanc 149 is a VERY expensive pen. Just the base model costs over $1,000 already. That being the case, I would suggest (unless money is really no object), that you buy a vintage or secondhand Monblanc 149, in good condition, instead.

If you like the piston-filling style of the 149, but not the price and the size – try the Montblanc 146 – which is everything that the 149 is – but one size down. If you want the Meisterstuck style without the piston-filling capability, then the MB 145 (next size down again) is also an option – that’s a cartridge/converter pen, which is both smaller, and lighter.

A Beginner’s Guide to Buying & Fixing Vintage Clothing

 

If you’ve been a reader of my blog for any decent length of time, then you’ll know that I love fixing stuff. Usually, that ‘stuff’ is some variety of antique or vintage item. I find it very satisfying to breathe life and rejuvenation into old objects, and items and make them useful, or at least functional, again. If I can repair something instead of throwing it out, I’d rather have it repaired.

For about seven years, I worked as a volunteer in a local charity thrift shop. It was only one shift a week, but it got me out of the house, and I met some really fun and interesting people, who I still hang out with from time to time (if they’re reading this, they know who they are! Hey guys!).

One thing that working in a charity shop made me realise is just how much stuff people really throw out, and how many things people buy that they really don’t need. But sometimes, that’s good, because then we can actually find all kinds of things, which are really nice, for really cheap prices. And sometimes, you can find it even cheaper, if you know what to do with it.

And this brings me to the purpose of today’s posting – buying and repairing old clothing.

Now, first thing’s first – this isn’t going to be a full-on style posting. There’s a million excellent menswear styling sites out there (if you want to find a few, I suggest looking up the Gentlemen’s Gazette, Real Men Real Style, etc) – but this blog, right here – ain’t one of them. I’ll give a couple of pointers and tips, but that’s it.

Finding Stuff at Thrift Shops

These days, bargain-hunting at thrift-shops is very popular. Usually, the amount of stuff being dumped on these places is so high that they HAVE to price it dirt cheap, just to get a high enough turnover rate, so that the stores aren’t snowed under all the time. But this gives you an excellent opportunity to find great stuff at bargain prices. Usually, it’s clothing, but you can find other stuff like antiques, books, homewares and kitchenwares that you didn’t even know existed, and all kinds of other stuff. For the purpose of this posting, however, we’ll be concentrating mostly on clothing, since that’s what most people buy at charity shops.

Always Inspect Everything!

Before you carry your latest prized garment to the front counter to buy it, always check the ENTIRE garment. This goes without saying. Try it on. Make sure it fits. A jacket or coat should always fit in two key areas: The shoulders, and the sleeves.

A jacket or coat shoulder should stop where your shoulder stops. You might get away with it being a finger’s width too wide, or half a finger too narrow, but anymore than that, and it won’t fit properly. Make sure you’re comfortable putting it on and taking it off. Try this a few times to be sure.

With coats and jackets, make sure the sleeves are the right length. What’s the right length?

Stick your arms out to the front and then to the side. A jacket sleeve never goes beyond your wrist-bones. A coat sleeve never goes past the knuckle of your thumb closest to your palm.

What’s the difference? A coat goes over a jacket, but a jacket never goes over a coat. They’re called “overcoats” for a reason, you know.

How long a coat hangs is up to you. A jacket should never drop below your butt. A coat can go all the way down to the ground, if you can find one long enough. Generally, an overcoat will drop to anywhere from mid-thigh to knee-length. Sometimes you can find some which drop even further, but they can be tricky to obtain.

Once you’ve found something you like and have decided that it fits you, make sure that you check everything about the garment! And I mean everything – check for holes, check for moth, check for rips, missing buttons, tears, wear-patches, staining…absolutely everything. Examine every square inch of fabric, and take as long as you have to, to be absolutely sure.

Once you’ve summed up the item’s imperfections, decide whether or not you can live with them. Can you repair them? Can you ignore them? Is anyone going to care about that wine stain on the jacket lining, when nobody’s ever going to see it? Does it matter that you patch the back of your coat, since it’s on the inside and only you’ll know it’s there? Does it matter that that ONE button is SLIGHTLY off, because you had to replace it?

Similarly, do the same thing with shirts, and trousers. Is the rise too high? Too low? Are the jeans pinching your balls? (hey, it had to be asked, OK?), and probably most importantly – that crotch stitching is still holding up, right?

On top of that, the main thing to check with trousers of any kind, apart from the waist, of course, is the inside leg. The inside-leg measurement is taken from the groin down to the ankle. I’m about 5’7″, and my inside-leg is 29 inches, while my waistline measurement is 32 inches. You should always remember stats like this if you intend to go thrift-shopping, and of course, bring a measuring tape with you. That way, you’ll save time by measuring the clothes before you even try them on.

Buying clothes at thrift-shops is always a gamble and always a compromise. You have to decide:

What can you accept? What can you excuse? What can you let slide or get away with, or not worry about?

Certain things should never be compromised on. Never buy anything that doesn’t fit, never buy anything that can’t be repaired, never buy anything that you’re not comfortable wearing (either physically or mentally), and never buy anything that cannot be cleaned properly. There’s no point buying something if you can’t get the stains out or can’t repair it. Moth holes, for example – forget it.

On the other hand, some things you can get away with. Oh it’s missing buttons? Whatever. Buy some new ones and replace them. Oh, it’s got a hole in the lining? If it doesn’t bother you, then don’t be bothered by it. Nobody’s going to see it anyway. Likewise, holes in pockets can be sewn up, and so on.

What Can You Repair?

That really depends on what your skills are. My grandmother was a dressmaker for forty years. When I was a child, she taught me all kinds of basic sewing skills. How to thread a needle, how to sew on a button, how to measure, how to chalk cloth, how to cut, how to leave seam-allowances, how to stitch, cut and sew buttonholes, and all kinds of other things. These are all things which are useful skills, if you want to buy vintage clothing or secondhand stuff at thrift-shops. So, if you do intend to buy clothes from thrift-shops, what basic sewing skills should you know, to try and repair and revive clothes to bring them back to life?

Below is a short list of a few skills that you might need to know, but first…

What Stuff Do you Need?

My 1930s Singer vibrating shuttle machine. It only does one thing, but it does it very well!

If you intend to repair clothes that you bought at a thrift-shop, you should have the following: Needles, thread, pin-cushion with pins, tailors’ chalk, a measuring tape or ruler, an iron, a thimble, a seam-cutter, a needle-threader, scissors, and ideally – a functioning sewing machine that you know how to use.

Sewing on a Button – Difficulty – EASY

Let’s start dead simple – everyone should know how to sew on a button. To determine where the button should be sewn, either use the existing buttons on the garment as a measuring guide, or else use the opposing buttonhole as a guide. Mark this with chalk, and then thread and knot your needle. Feed the needle through the cloth from the INSIDE of the shirt, going out. And then feed the button through the needle and down onto the shirt.

How many times you sew the button up against the shirt is up to you, but be sure that you do it evenly and use all the available threading-holes. Your button threading can either look like an “X”, an “O”, or an “H”, but keep the threading consistent – either do it twice, four times, six times or eight times. Don’t do it an odd number of times, because then it looks sloppy. Above all, make sure that the stitches are tight and even. When you’re done, stitch the needle through one of the stitches behind the button, tie a knot and cut the thread. Done!

Not all buttons are created equal, however. Due to the thicker fabrics, coat and jacket-buttons should not be stitched TOO tightly against the garment. If they are, then you’ll find them harder to button due to the thicker fabrics and the chunkier, larger buttons used to hold your garment closed. So long as the button is firmly anchored to the jacket or coat, you can leave a TINY amount of slackness in the stitching, maybe an eighth of an inch, or even less, but certainly not more.

If you’re trying to find buttons for a garment because some are missing, and you think it’d be easier just to replace ALL the buttons at once, one way to do this is to find a coat or jacket of a similar colour and style, but which is unwearable (because it’s filled with holes, or has massive stains on it, etc), and cut off all the buttons (if it has a full set) and simply use those to re-button your better-condition garment. Keep the original buttons from your first garment in a button-box or tin for use in other emergencies.

Tip: If you’re sewing through particularly thick fabric (heavy wool, for example, or several layers of fabric at once), then make sure you have a thimble! It’ll save you from being pricked and poked as you try and yank and push that needle through. It may only be a few milimeters thick, but there’s a lot of friction between the fabric and the needle when you’re sewing something. I have a few antique silver thimbles that I keep in my sewing box, but whatever you can find is probably suitable enough – just make sure it’s nothing smooth, like those kitschy little porcelain ones – it needs to have dimples on it, to catch the point of the needle and to stop it sliding around everywhere!

Pinning Clothes – Difficulty – EASY

One of the most important things that you’ll need to know when repairing clothes is how to pin fabric. Is a sleeve coming off? Is the lining coming undone? Did you tear your waistcoat shoulder and need to sew it back together? (That happened to me once, and it was a frustrating repair!). For all these applications and more, you need to know how to pin stuff.

For this, you’ll need a bunch of tailor’s pins. They’re easily purchased in-bulk from any fabric and craft store, sometimes even at supermarkets. Best to buy two or three packets – they don’t always last very long.

The point of these pins (no pun intended!…OK not much of one, anyway…) is to hold two or more pieces of fabric together, and to stop it from sliding or coming apart when you’re trying to sew them back together.

After positioning the two pieces of fabric how you want them to be sewn together – take your pins – which should be housed in a pin-cushion – and feed them through the fabric, one at a time – parallel to the seam that you’ll be sewing. This is to allow the two pieces of fabric to lie flat and straight – if you pin perpendicular to the seam, the fabric may bunch up or pull out of alignment while sewing – and you certainly don’t want that!

While pinning, make sure that the pins go straight through both layers of fabric, and then back out through both layers of fabric. Make sure that the pin goes all the way through, and all the way out, but also, that the pin goes in and out through the fabric over the shortest distance possible – this gives you enough leeway for the pin to move (which it may do, while you’re sewing) without sliding out of the fabric entirely (which is a possibility) and ruining the end effect!

Hemming Trousers – Difficulty – MEDIUM

This is something that I reckon every well-dressed guy, and any girl who wears trousers or jeans – should know – HOW TO HEM YOUR TROUSERS! I’m constantly amazed at how many of my friends have no idea how to do this.

Finding a pair of jeans or trousers that fit you great in the waist, but which are too long, is a problem for a lot of people. Chances are that nothing will fit you perfectly off the rack, no matter how much weight you lose or sit-ups you try to do. That’s just the reality of life. Some shops (such as Uni Qlo, for example) do offer an in-store alteration-service for a nominal fee, and if you want to, you can do that, if you buy something from a store, brand-new. But if you’re buying from a thrift-shop, you don’t have that option. So you either have to pay someone to do it (which I would never bother doing), or you do it yourself.

First, you gotta figure out your inside-leg. To figure that out, get a pair of trousers that already fit you really well, and measure the inside-leg. That’s taken from the middle of the crotch-seam, down the INSIDE of the trouser-leg to the bottom of the hem – by inside, I mean the inner-side of the trouser leg, as opposed to the outer-side, not the literal inside of the trousers where the seams are hidden. Am I making sense here??

That measurement is your inside-leg. For most people, it’ll be between 26 – 40 inches, depending on how tall you are. If you’re really tall, then it could be as much as 50 inches. Either way, remember that length and then measure it out on the pair of trousers you want to hem. Mark that point on the trouser-leg with chalk and then rule a line along the bottom of the trouser-leg at that mark. Make sure the trouser-leg is flat and your ruler is straight!

Depending on how much fabric is below this line, you can either hem straight away, or you might want to cut off some of the excess fabric. If you have more than an inch and a half of fabric, I’d suggest trimming it off.

Once you’ve made your measurement and it’s ready to hem – fold the excess fabric UP inside the trouser leg. Here, you might want to iron it, to set a crease so it doesn’t flop around. Next step is to pin the hem. Using tailor’s pins, pin the hem so that the fabric stays in place while you sew it in your new hemline using a sewing machine. Make sure that you sew the hem so that the new line of stitches is as close to the edge of the folded-up fabric as possible, and not the new hemline – otherwise all the loose, unsupported fabric inside your trouser-leg will flop back down and you’ll have a bitch of a time trying to put your trousers on later. This is also why I suggest removing excess fabric – it just gets in the way.

Cutting buttonholes – Difficulty – MEDIUM

I don’t know anybody who cuts their own buttonholes, but I have done, on occasion. It’s not strictly always necessary, but in some instances, it may be.

About a week ago, I was at my local flea market, looking for a new winter overcoat. I lucked out and found a lovely 60-40 wool-poly blended navy blue peacoat. It fit decently in the shoulders and arms, and it was a longer cut, going down to almost my knees, which I liked, because I believe overcoats should be as long as possible without looking awkward.

The thing about peacoats is that they’re double-breasted – they are ALWAYS double-breasted. There is no such thing as a single-breasted peacoat. I don’t own anything that’s double-breasted (apart from one grey jacket) and I thought it’d be fun to buy a double-breasted overcoat. It’s different, it was in a colour I liked, a style that suited me, a size that fit me, and had features which I liked – namely that it buttoned right up to the throat, which is great in freezing winter weather!!

But – it only buttons up on one side – left over right.

I’m a firm believer that if you’re going to do something, you should do it as right as you can – what’s the point of having a double-breasted overcoat which only buttons up on one side? So, I took it home and made extra buttons on the other side, so that I could overlap the coat either direction.

To make new buttonholes, you will need:

A sewing machine, thread, a needle and thread, tailor’s chalk, and a pair of very sharp, pointed-tip scissors.

First thing’s first – mark where the buttonhole is going to be, and how long it’s going to be, compared to the diameter of the button that’s going to go through it. If you have the button handy – use that as a guide. Use tailor’s chalk to mark the boundaries of the buttonhole that you wish to make.

Next step is to sew a rectangle using your sewing machine – bordering around the chalk-marks you made.

After that, you need to make the actual hole itself. Always sew the boundaries of the buttonhole before doing this – the point of the stitching is to ARREST and PREVENT any unwanted tearing or fraying in the fabric. If you don’t do the reinforcing rectangle first, then all you’ll get is a huge bloody hole in your coat that’s of no use to anybody.

To cut the hole, use sharp, pointed-tip scissors. If you can get them, there are specific buttonhole scissors that exist – but if you can’t get them, then any scissors like what I described, will do. Pierce the fabric and feed the blade of the scissors through, and then cut along the chalk-mark inside the stitched border. Make sure that the button slips through comfortably, but not too loosely.

The final step is to reinforce the buttonhole. If you do not do this, then the fraying edges of the buttonhole will cause the entire thing to fall apart. Get your needle and thread, and sew around the edge of the buttonhole using a whipstitch, or overcast stitch – these are designed to furl over the edge of the fabric, and therefore prevent it from wearing out and unwraveling. Make the stitches as tight and as close together as possible to produce a neat, even appearance. Once it’s done, tie off the thread, snip the excess, and you’re done!

Of course, if you want to use a sewing machine, you can do that too – and use a buttonhole attachment, but if you’re not confident with using one, or don’t have one, then this is the most traditional way of doing it. It’s an easy way of adding buttonholes to garments that you find secondhand and want to alter to your own tastes or uses.

Blind Stitching – Difficulty – EASY

Blind stitching the name given to the method by which two pieces of fabric are sewn together, without there being a visible seam or stitches. The stitching is done in such a way that it is ‘blind’, or invisible.

Blind stitching is useful if you’re trying to sew seams back together that have come apart, but you don’t want it to be obvious that you’ve done a homemade repair – you want it to look like it was never damaged in the first place!

Blind stitching is easily accomplished with a simple needle and thread. It involves sewing the two pieces of fabric together in such a way that the thread holding the two pieces together cannot be seen from one side (usually, the outside!). So, how is this done?

To successfully carry out a blind stitching operation, you sew the two pieces of fabric together by passing the needle through the fabric, without poking all the way through. Basically, you catch threads or fibres of the fabric, pull your needle through, catch the fibres or threads of the other fabric, and pull the needle through that. On the other side of the two pieces of fabric – there shouldn’t be any hole or any thread visible.

Blind stitching is relatively easy – but it has to be done slowly, and carefully if you want a neat and presentable finish. Best to do it when you’re bored, and lonely, sitting down watching TV or YouTube videos, because you won’t want anybody trying to actively steal your attention while you’re doing this. The only slight disadvantage with blind stitching is that since the stitches don’t pass all the way through the two pieces of fabric, it may not be as strong as conventional stitching. You can remedy this by making the stitches more numerous or tighter, to give the seam some extra strength!

Darn it! – Difficulty – MEDIUM

You might’ve heard of darning from reading old books, or watching period movies, old TV shows, or possibly, from speaking to your grandparents. It’s that thing that grandma did late at night when there was nothing else going on. But what is it?

Darning is a process whereby clothes are repaired. To be specific, it’s a method for repairing, filling in or patching holes, usually in thick, knitted or woven fabrics and garments such as scarves, jumpers, cardigans, beanies, mittens etc. It doesn’t really work that well with thinner fabrics or fabrics with a tight weave, like cotton.

Darning is a process whereby you fill in the hole created by the loose, or missing threads, by weaving in fresh thread to replace it. First, you identify the hole that needs darning. Then, you get your needle and thread. Ideally, you want a thread that matches the colour of the fabric as closely as possible.

Prepare your needle and thread as you usually do, and then tuck the point of the needle through the weave in the fabric, near the edge of the hole that you’re trying to darn. For a neater finished appearance – darn from the INSIDE of the garment, so that none of the fiddly bits – like that knot you tied in the end of your thread – are visible when the darning is completed.

Pull the thread across the hole and through a weave in the fabric at the other edge. Then repeat the process going back the other way. And back the other away again. And again. And again. Until the entire hole is covered.

Now you’ve done half the process. The next step is to go from top to bottom, weaving your needle in and out of the threads you just created, while also doing the anchoring stitches that you did earlier. Keep your stitches as dense as possible to create an even, solid mass of thread which will eventually build up, and cover the hole. Yay! You’re darning!

A wooden darning egg. Darning eggs can be made out of almost anything – metal, glass, wood, even stone. It just has to be something sufficiently hard that the needle doesn’t break it. The curved shape helps to stretch out the fabric, and stops it from bunching up and kinking.

One way to make darning easier is to place something inside the garment, so that you have a solid surface to rest against while you darn. This stops the fabric from flopping around anywhere. Traditionally, this ‘something’ was a hard, round object made of wood, known as a “darning egg”, or a “darning mushroom”, depending on the shape.

Darning is usually done on thick, woven wool clothes and fabrics. Stuff like sweaters, dressing gowns, socks, sweater-vests, etc. The thick, fluffy weave of the fabric hides (or makes less noticeable) the repair-job of darning. Darning will never make a garment look like new, but it will stop it from getting worse and falling apart. For this reason, darning is a repair technique usually reserved for things which won’t be seen publicly – dressing gowns, socks, or sweaters which might be covered by a jacket or overcoat. Of course – the neater and more densely packed your darning stitches are, the less noticeable the repair will be overall, especially if you use a colour-matched thread.

Conclusion

Well, that brings this posting to an end. For anyone who loves bargain-hunting and seeking out secondhand or vintage clothes, hopefully this posting has given you a bit more confidence to be a bit more adventurous in your hunter-gathering, and given you a bit more confidence in repairing your own secondhand scores!

Antique Sealing-Wax Stove

 

Sometimes, you really do find the weirdest things, when you’re out antiquing. Over the years, I’ve stumbled across everything from Pieces of Eight to razor-blade sharpeners, pill-rollers and writing slopes. But sometimes…just sometimes…you find something so obscure and unheard of that not only have you never seen it before, you’ve never heard of it before, and you’ve never even come across one on the internet! Likely, you’ve never even considered that such a thing might even exist!

Such was the case last week!

It was on a very windy Sunday morning in July when I picked up this curious rectangular, metal object. It was pointed out to me by the stallholder as something in which I might show a particular interest! And boy, was he right!

I remember staring at this object, a mounting sense of curiosity building up inside me as I laughed at it and picked it up.

“What is it!?”
“Ever seen something like this before?”
“Hell no! What’s it do?”
“It’s pretty fantastic, huh? It’s for heating sealing-wax! You like that kind of old-world writing stuff, don’t you?”
“Well…yeah!”
“Buy it! You’ll never see another one of these, mate!”

Deciding that he was probably right, I haggled the price down and handed him the money. Apart from a bit of rubbing and wear, the piece was in absolutely wonderful condition – no cracks, no scratching, no dents, no missing or broken parts – everything was in perfect working order! A bit stiff in its operation, perhaps, but nothing that a good cleaning couldn’t fix!

All closed up

The furnace, or stove, is comprised of four main parts.

First is the body or shell. This is divided into two sections – the upper section, accessed by a flat, hinged lid, and the lower section, accessed by another hinged lid, with a circular handle screwed into the front.

The second part is the two-piece burner or spirit-lamp. This is the little rectangular unit that slides out of the bottom compartment. The top half of the burner comprises of the wick, and the adjustment-knob on the side, with the reservoir underneath.

The spirit-burner

It’s basically a small oil-lamp which burns kerosene or lamp-oil. The burner-unit is unscrewed, the reservoir is filled with oil, the wick and burner-unit are screwed back on, and once the oil has wicked its way up the wick, it can be lit with a match. Turning the wick up creates a strong, bright flame that is used as a heat-source for melting the wax.

The bottom door opened, showing the spirit lamp underneath

The sealing wax itself is stored in the third component – the wax pan. The pan is basically a metal dish or trough into which chunks or sticks of sealing wax are placed to be melted. The trough is heated from below by the flame of the spirit lamp, and once the metal is hot enough, the wax inside the trough melts into a liquid state.

Opening the top door reveals the removable wax pan above the burner-unit

Riveted to the sides of the body of the stove is the fourth component of the stove – an insulated carrying handle – suggesting that the stove is meant to be portable – this is borne out by the fact that the burner-unit fits into flanges or grooves inside the lower compartment of the stove-body, presumably to hold it in position under the middle of the wax-pan, and to stop it from sliding around when it’s being carried – important when you’ve got boiling hot wax and open flames around!

Is It A Rare Item?

I suspect that it is. I mean how many antique, working sealing-wax stoves have there got to be in the world? A look online revealed a surprisingly large number of sealing-wax melting devices, variously labeled as ‘stoves’, ‘kilns’ or even ‘furnaces’, but these were all modern ones. They’re low capacity, low-heat devices, usually incorporating a tealight candle.

They’re cheaply made with wooden and metal frames and bases, and are used only for melting small quantities of wax – enough for maybe one or two seals at a time. None of them have any age to them, and none of them are designed for large-scale, long-term use. They’re sold more as a cutesy gimmick, not as an actual piece of office or desktop equipment.

During all my searching, I found only two other antique sealing-wax stoves online, and only one of them was similar in design to mine. This would lead me to believe that they aren’t that common, and that if others do exist out there, then they’ve probably been mis-identified…which wouldn’t surprise me – after all, how many offices would’ve had a device like this sitting around?

What Is The Purpose of the Stove?

The stove is designed to melt and liquefy sealing wax, used for sealing documents and parcels, and provide a device for evidence of tampering. Traditional sealing-wax is very hard and brittle – it’s designed to shatter and crack if any stress is applied to it. Unfortunately, this quality means that it’s also much harder to melt than conventional candle-wax, or even modern, soft-textured sealing-wax.

Given that it would take higher heat and a longer time to melt traditional sealing-wax, it would make sense that any office where documents had to be sealed regularly, such as a post-office, bank, or lawyer’s office, would have a stove like this constantly lit, so that a supply of hot, liquid sealing-wax was on standby at the moment’s notice. To seal a document, one simply had to open the lid, scoop out the required amount with a ladle, and pour it over the document or parcel which required sealing.

How Does It Work?

Very simply! You place sticks or pellets of sealing-wax in the pan at the top of the stove. Drop the pan in, and close the lid. Then you fill the spirit lamp or burner with lamp-oil, or kerosene. You let the fuel rise up the wick, then light it with a match, like any other oil lamp. Turn the wick up to the highest level it can go without smoking, and then slide it into the bottom compartment between the two guide-rails. Then close the lower door (or leave it open, up to you).

Lighting the wick and testing out the spirit lamp

Once the lamp is lit, it’s just a matter of waiting for the flame to heat the pan, to melt the wax down to a liquid state. Obviously, the more wax there is in the pan, the longer it takes to melt. I imagine they did this on a case-by-case basis – they’d melt just enough wax to make a few seals, and after every 2-3 uses, they’d toss in another stick of wax to melt, so that it’d be liquid by the time they needed to use it again, while keeping the stove burning all day long throughout office hours.

The insulated carry-handle at the back

The carrying-handle on the stove suggests that it was meant to be portable – and that it was intended that the stove could be moved from desk to desk around a large office so that different people could use it, rather than taking their documents to a central table to seal them when needed.

How Old Is the Stove and Who Made It?

I honestly don’t know. I’d estimate early 1900s, probably not later than after the First World War, and as far back as the 1880s or thereabouts. There’s no real information on the device itself that gives us any information as to its history.

The only information provided is “SUTHERLAND, THOMSON & Co., 31 Tooley Street, London“. They’re identified as late as the 1930s, as being a supplier of “Dairy equipment and Scientific Glassware” – but that doesn’t mean that they made the stove. They might’ve sold it as the retailer, or simply have bought it for their own use in sealing documents and parcels. I saw one other one online supposedly sold by the same company, so they may have been an established retailer, although I have no real proof one way or the other. There are no patent-numbers, model-numbers, serial-numbers or any other marks on the device at all that tell us anything about it.

Among My Souvenirs – Display Cabinets and Cases

 

As a serious antiques collector since my school days, taking care of one’s collection, keeping tabs on it, remembering what’s in your collection, what you’ve bought, sold, traded or given away, and how to protect, store and display one’s collection is something that is always on your mind.

In this posting, I’m going to be talking about display-cabinets and cases, and what sorts of choices and options there are out there for you to consider, and what issues you yourself need to consider when you select a case or cabinet, dependent on the types of antiques you collect.

Cabinets and Cases – What Are They?

Before we get swept away with the fascination about our intriguing subject-matter, let’s first understand one thing:

Cabinets are not cases, and cases are not cabinets. They are two different things, and each is used for different items. Alright?

Alright.

Display Cabinets

A display CABINET is a freestanding unit or piece of furniture, designed to exhibit the items stored within it. They can be tall and thin, low and rectangular, square, modular and angular. They usually have glass sides and doors and multiple shelves. They may or may not be lockable.

Overview of my display cabinets, with some of the lights turned on

Benefits of display-cabinets is that they’re larger and can keep a larger amount of (or larger-sized) items safe and clean. For a relatively small footprint, they can store and display multiple shelves or layers of collectives and therefore take up a small amount of floor-space for the amount of items that they can store. The disadvantages are their weight and lack of portability.

Display Cases

By comparison, a display CASE is a shallow, flat, box-like container, usually with a glass-topped lid. They’re usually small enough to be somewhat portable and are typically used for displaying small items such as pens, coins, stamps, etc. Basically, anything small that wouldn’t really suit a larger display cabinet, because they would get lost among all the bigger items. They may or may not be lockable, just like their larger counterparts, and may or may not include lighting features.

The benefits of display cases is that they’re smaller and more portable. This makes them great for things like displaying your collections or items for sale, at antiques fairs, collectors’ fairs and conventions, or for displaying your collections in a wider selection of areas (in your study, on the coffee table in your living room, etc).

The disadvantages of display cases is that they take up a LOT of space. Since you can’t stack them when they’re in use, they can take up a lot of space, compared with the relatively small footprint vs. large storage space, of a display cabinet.

Cabinets or Cases? What’s Best for You?

Cabinets are better if what you’re displaying is large, bulky or heavy. Silverware, brassware, antique optical equipment, books, porcelain, etc. Things that you don’t have to strain your eyes to notice through the glass.

Cases are better for displaying smaller things with low profiles, such as coins, stamps, pens, collections of snuffboxes, pocketknives, lighters, and so on.

Having lights makes things easier to see…

When deciding to buy a display-unit for your collections, you need to figure out what’s going to go into it, how heavy your collection is, and where the case or cabinet is going to go. Will the shelves support the weight of that beautiful French porcelain censer? Will the lid close on top of your favourite guilloche enamel table-lighter? Will you be able to arrange things the way you want them to look?

These are all things that you need to consider. If you buy a set of display cabinets – do you have the wall-space for them? Where will you hang your pictures, photographs and clocks? Will it take up space that you need for other things? So much to think about.

Display & Lighting

Once you’ve decided on which option works best for you – cabinets or cases, then the next thing to consider is how to display your collection and whether or not you wish to include any form of illumination.

With a flat case, how you arrange your collection is up to you, but with display cabinets, there are certain limitations that you need to consider.

First – how stable are your cabinets? To provide ballast, heavier, bulkier items should go at the bottom and lighter and smaller things further up. Larger items should be placed at the back of shelves, and smaller items closer to the front, so that all pieces may be seen, with minimal obstruction between one piece and another.

Of course, you don’t have to have lights, but not having them can create shadows which make it harder to see the details of your collection

As much as possible, take full advantage of all the space available to you. Small pieces may be displayed by hanging them from hooks, which you can stick to the sides or backs of your shelves. Narrow-depth, smaller-sized display-boxes with transparent windows, may be used to display smaller items, within the main cabinets, in order to maximise the vertical space between your shelves. This can make it easier to see particularly small items and if these display-boxes can be stacked or otherwise arranged, then it frees up even more space for larger items.

Along with how to display your items comes the issue (or non-issue, as the case may be) of illuminating your display.

Naturally, display cases are generally easier to illuminate. A lamp or two, strategically placed, is usually sufficient to light up your prized collection, but when it comes to larger receptacles, such as cabinets, some form of integrated lighting is either included, or at least, recommended.

Whether it’s battery-powered or comes with a plug and lead, lights should be unobtrusive and shouldn’t get in the way of whatever it is that you’re trying to illuminate. It’s best to stick them in corners or edges, or on the undersides of your shelves, so that they’re out of the way, but still give plenty of illumination.

What Lights Are Best?

It really depends on what your budget and personal situation is. These days, there are a wide range of options. Ideally, you want lights that are small, unobtrusive, and bright. In this arena, we have bar lights, strip lights, and puck lights, all utilising extremely powerful LEDs to produce the necessary illumination. Each of them has their benefits and drawbacks.

Bar lights are comparatively bulky and take up the most space overall. They work off of batteries and/or cables, and this can mess up your delicately placed displays. If you have a particularly LARGE display cabinet, however, and can spare the space, and require the light, then bar lights might be the way to go!

LED strip lights are much smaller in profile, while still being extremely bright. These can vary from very, very, VERY long strips which are typically powered by plug-leads and switches, and comparatively small strips, which are battery-powered. These are often great for small or medium-sized cabinets or smaller display-cases since they don’t take up much room. You just need to think about where you’re going to hide the extra leads, plugs, switches, and battery-boxes.

The last option is using puck lights. Puck lights get their name because they’re flat, round and chunky – like hockey pucks. Puck lights are cheap – A pack of four or six cost comparatively little, they take ordinary AA-size batteries, and require no leads or switches. They can be mounted almost anywhere, and are very bright. Also, you can get them with remote controllers. That way, you can switch on loads of pucks at once, and then them off at once, requiring just a couple of clicks of a button. Useful, if you have twelve lights to turn on and off.

The only potential downside to puck-lights is that they are VERY expensive in BATTERIES. The average puck-light takes three batteries to operate. This may not sound like much (my flashlight only takes TWO batteries!), but when you’re trying to light up a LOT of pucks, the number of batteries required can easily run into the dozens! That said, they do last a long time.

Shelving Types

When it comes to shelves in your display cabinets, you generally have two options: Conventional wooden shelves, and glass shelves.

Wooden shelves are more sturdy and can take more weight. On the flipside, they’re bulky, weigh a lot, and impede the passage of light.

Putting smaller display boxes/cases inside larger display cabinets can make better use of the available vertical space, allowing you to show more things in a smaller amount of space

The alternative is having shelves made of glass. Glass has numerous advantages. It’s light, it means you need fewer lights to illuminate your cabinet, and they take up much less space. The only problems with glass are that glass shelves can be scratched, broken and cannot take excessively heavy loads – so like, I wouldn’t suggest putting your Victorian-era editions of the Encyclopedia Britannica on glass shelves, for example. Glass shelves also show off dust far more than wooden ones.

Doors and Windows

Whether or not your display cabinets or cases have doors or windows is up to you. But there are certain advantages and disadvantages.

The main disadvantage is weight. Such additions as doors, glass, and handles, hinges etc, do add considerably to the weight of your cabinet or case. It’s more things to break, more things to go wrong. If you do transport your cabinets or cases and they have glass doors and windows, make sure you pad and restrain them securely during transit, to prevent cracks and breakage.

One way to keep sub-collections of small items organised within larger collections is to use display-cases or boxes inside your larger cabinets. This is a simple Fererro Rocher chocolate box which I used to put my pocketknife and lighter collection into. It doesn’t take up much space, and it keeps the dust away.

However, glass doors and windows do have advantages. They let in more light, while at the same time, keeping out dust, prying fingers, and other grime. With the right accessories, doors can also be locked, for added security. An alternative for doors when it comes to display cases, is to have a lockable drawer setup, where the entire case can be slid out from under the glass for arranging and displaying items, before the entire thing is slid back in and locked for security.

Concluding Remarks

For the serious collector, having somewhere to store, and more importantly, display your collections is always important. It’s not something to be rushed into, however and as much time as necessary should be taken in deciding what you want and how you want it to look. Remember that your deciding factors should be things like: What are you displaying? What is your budget? How much space do you have, and how can you maximise it?

Do you need to worry about things like earthquakes? Storms? Do your cabinets or cases require anchoring to protect them from toppling or falling? What’s the largest or heaviest thing that you’ll be putting inside?

Think about all these factors and more, before making any serious moves.

One Pair of Bone-Handled Boot-Pulls

 

One thing that I love about antiques is discovering, and learning about all the weird, whimsical little one-use gadgets that the Georgians and the Victorians invented to overcome fiddly little problems, or created, as elegant solutions to necessary evils.

I’ve seen everything from pocketknives with button-hooks, brass string-caddies that stop balls of twine from rolling away, oval-shaped silver pap-boats for feeding infants, brass pill-rollers, and countless other items too numerous to mention.

Well, last week, I ended up buying yet another historical curiosity – a pair of bone-handled boot-pullers! I don’t know how old these things are, but from the research I did, they used to be very common back around the Victorian era. Modern ones are still made today, but they’re manufactured with wooden handles and the steel rods used to make them tend to be much thinner. Some pullers are even made with plastic handles!

What are Boot-Pulls?

Boot-pulls have T-shaped handles at the top – usually in wood, or in antique ones – bone. Some slim, compact models have thin, folding metal handles. Modern models typically have plastic ones.

Beneath the handles (boot-pulls were always sold as pairs), there’s a long shaft, about six or eight inches. Beneath this is a flat, angular hook with a blunt tip.

They’re designed to help you put your boots on, back in the days when men wore calf-, or even knee-length riding boots. Due to the length of the boot-leg and the confined space inside, it wasn’t always easy to slide your foot all the way down and into the shoe at the bottom. Because the firmness of the leather, and the size of the boot, prevented (or at least made it very difficult) for the wearer to bend their knees or reach their boots to tug them on, boot-pulls were invented.

The whole idea is that the blunt, flat hook at the bottom of the pull hooks into the leather pull-loop or tab at the top of the boot-leg. The length of the metal shaft meant you didn’t have to bend down so far, and you were able to tug your boots on quickly and comfortably without having to fight with them.

Where Did Boot-Pulls Come From?

Back in the old days, boot-pulls were usually sold in pairs and were typically associated with the sports of hunting and horse-riding. It was common to buy a set of boot-pulls along with the rest of your traditional riding outfit such as boots, horse-whip, flasks, hat, breeches and so on. Companies like Swaine & Adeney, which for over 200 years, have specialised in high-end leathergoods such as riding boots and other footwear, would’ve sold sets along with their boots and shoes, or would’ve offered them as optional extras at the moment of purchase.

Boot-Pulls sound useful! I want some!

You can still buy boot-pulls today, although modern ones are typically made with handles constituted from wood, or plastic, rather than bone. Now, as then, some sets were collapsible, with folding handles for easy storage and packing.

If you want an antique set with bone handles, then the easiest place to find them is eBay. Being fairly common, they don’t tend to go for very much and a pair in good condition can easily be purchased for under $100. The set that I purchased cost me less than half of that, and they’ll last forever!