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Kitchen Collectibles
Kitchen collectibles sale and auctions in the
Antique Web!
Cookie Cutters
by Wayne Mattox
Years ago, my mother, Daria, of Daria of Woodbury Antiques,
bought a huge sack filled with old cookie cutters. Grinning
like one who had just struck gold, she looked like Mrs. Santa
Claus as she hauled that clinking bag into the house and
poured it out on the large kitchen harvest table. Mom had
finally lost her marbles, I thought. Why would anyone pay
hundreds of dollars for tin cookie cutters? They weren't
eighteenth century furniture, or rare blown glass, or striking
folk art like the kind you can see at Sherlburne Museum, in
Shelburne, Vermont. Little, did I know. I was going through a
learning stage many antique dealers encounter in their career
paths-the horse blinder stage. That's when you begin to amass
some knowledge regarding traditional antiques and forget that
many common-place old objects have class as well, like cookie
cutters.
Most experts believe that tinned steel cutters originated in
Europe several hundred years ago when wood carvers introduced
metal inserts to their sophisticated sweet dough molds. Old
European cutters tend to be outline forms with small cross
bracing bars for support. America cutters often have a full
tin plate in the back and occasionally, a handle. Many early
cookie cutters found in the States have one or two circular
holes cut into their tin back. The holes are normally sized to
fit a lady's finger, so that she might be able to push stuck
cookie dough out of the cutter, or using them to better hold
her tool. Occasionally, a cutter is found with tiny holes in
the punched into the back as a decoration. A star is common.
The first American manufactured cookie cutters were made
shortly after the conclusion of the Civil War when great
industries were looking to adapt to a peace-time economy. Some
of these and later examples were marked by companies like
Dover, Mason, Kreamer, Fries, and Hillson-all out of business
today. In general, a cutter bearing a name is more valuable
than an equal example bearing no inscription. Aluminum, all
but supplanted tin as the favored material for cutters in the
1920's. Plastic cutters were introduced in great number
following W.W.II. An old original box, or a legitimate "provenance"(a
story telling about a piece's history and/or origin), or
cookie cutter documents, signs, etc., might be of great
interest to the hundreds of international members in the
"Cookie Cutters Collector's Club" home stationed in Cannon
Falls, MN. Most sought-after, however, are the large grey-patined
solder- splashed, tinsmith-made cookie cutters from years ago.
A large rabbit can fetch hundreds of dollars if its shape is
rabbit-like. Even more if he's comical. A good bear cutter
would be valuable because few bears were made compared with
hens or trees. An "Uncle Sam" cookie cutter brought $3,000 at
auction way back in 1989. At the same sale, a beautifully
formed "Running Slave" cutter brought a world record price of
$7,400! The buyer stated after the sale, he was prepared to
pay as much as $15,000, to get such an excellent piece for his
collection.
Keep in mind that most old cookie cutters sell for less than
twenty bucks. Mom sold enough out of her sack to recover her
investment in the first day she showed them. Those cookie
cutters have traveled with us to many shows since. Selling as
Christmas tree ornaments for $4, and wall decorations for $20,
and sometimes for much more as staples for a collection. And
you know what - that big old bag is still half-full!
by
AntiqueTalk.com
Reprinted with permission
Copyright by Wayne Mattox ©
Antique Doll
Houses
by Wayne Mattox
With the approaching holy holiday season, so too comes
shopping. Yes, old Saint Nicholas will soon be making an
appearance at your favorite local shopping center. Toward
learning more about valuable antique dollhouses, let's take a
peek through the ceiling-mounted security camera aimed at the
Santa's Workshop in Suburb Heaven Mall. Two seven-year old
girls have just taken a seat on Santa's lap. Shelley and Dana
are ready to express their meek aspirations for Christmas.
Just dues owed them for being such good, or at least
blameless, girls all year long.
Santa: "Ho, ho, ho! And whom do we have here? What's your name
my little angels?"
Dana: "What kind of Santa are you? Thought you were supposed
to know everything 'bout everybody?"
Shelley (whispering in Dana's ear) "Play along with him.
Unless you're going into coal business."
Santa: What do my little Princesses want for Christmas this
year?
Dana: "M.T."
Santa: "Excuse me?"
Shelley: "M. T. my friend said: Material Goods. Been a rough
year, Santa. Our Oppenheimer funds down a third, and as far as
bonds are concerned … well, you know, 2%! We might as well go
back to the days of ceramic piggy banks."
Dana and Shelley produce palm-held Dells, fast and
effortlessly as any gunslinger ever drew a Peacekeeper Colt.
The two minicomputers conveyor-like screens flash What I Want
for Christmas lists so speedily that Santa's twinkling eyes
can barely keep pace: CD-ROMs, Victoria's Secret gift
certificates, DVD players, high density flat screen TV's and
dollhouses … finally something Santa can relate to.
Santa: Did you know that dollhouses were made as early as the
17th century, as a way of training young girls like yourself
to run a household? Adults became so enamored their
children's' toys they recreated interiors with wallpaper,
chandeliers and beautifully detailed tiny furniture and
fixtures; miniatures scaled just like big chairs and iceboxes
and dressing mirrors."
Dana (scowling): "Right. And they came equipped with smiley
face June Cleaver and Donna Reed dolls, dressed in little
plaid kitchen aprons."
Dana jumps off Santa's lap and performs a curtsy move, right
out of the 1950's. "Yes Ward," she says. "I'll get your
slippers right away for you dear …Yechhh!"
Shelley: (Interrupting her friend, less they end up with no
presents at all this year) "Mr. Santa, we're acquainted with
the subject. The best dollhouses are often lifelike replicas
of real homes with doors, glazed windows, porches, steps, a
pitched roof and multiple floors and rooms. Clean examples
with sophisticated architectural detailing and original
wallpaper and lithograph flooring can fetch four figures.
Especially if the house can be attributed to renowned makers
like: Bliss (Pawtucket, RI, 1890's –1911), Christian Hacker
(Nuremberg, Mid 19th century-1914), Gottschalk (Saxony,
1880's-1930's), McLoughlin Brothers (NY 1875-), G&J Lines &
Lines Brothers (England, 1890's-1971). Prices are even going
through the roof for later models homes made by companies like
Bluebox, Ideal, Jaydon, Marx and Plasco. In the world of
antiques, Santa, real estate and the little toys that go
inside those dollhouses are hot property!"
Dana: (Agreeing with her friend) "Ba-ba-bing!"
"Ho, Ho, Ho," Santa says.
Shelley: "One other thing you should know, Mr. Clause … the
furniture and accessories that go into dollhouses, constitute
a larger market than homes themselves. Early miniature German
telephones, birdhouses, kitchen accessories, carpet sweepers
and Christmas trees can fetch as much as $50 each. Wood metal
and composite furnishings sometimes fetch even more."
Dana: (Mimicking Bob from Bob's Discount Furniture): "Come on
Down!"
Shelley: "Dana has a crush on that Bob guy."
Santa: (Perplexed, and flipping through the pages of a current
Toys R' Us catalog) "Dollhouse … dollhouse," he says. Then he
stops on a page three quarters through the book. "Here we go
girls, how about if Santa and his reindeer come down your
chimney and bring you a brand new Barbie Dream House for
Christmas?"
Dana: "I'd rather eat venison steak!"
Santa: "Huh!"
Shelley: "What Dana means is her mom always keeps the fire
burning Christmas Eve." Shelley throws a threatening glance in
the direction of her friend.
"Oh," Santa says.
Shelley: Dana wants a 19th gothic mansion by Bliss. The
company's products are easy to spot because their name usually
appears over the front door on their dollhouses. I want a
Victorian two-story townhouse by Christian Hacker. With the
typical attic room set into the "Mansard" roof. Don't forget
the period furnishing and accoutrements, perfectly fitting for
every room. Original paint too, please.
Dana: "Make mine in original paint too. Think condition,
Santa!"
Santa: (Sounding like a perplexed Ricky Ricardo from I Love
Lucy) "Ay, Yi, Yi!"
by
AntiqueTalk.com
Reprinted with permission
Copyright by Wayne Mattox |
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