Hustle, pt. 3: Hank's Alley

Not long ago, Hank, my second-hand-furniture-dealing crush, gruffed at me, "Honey, you got Hustle."

Hank should know. Hank has Hustle. And I mean that as a compliment.

You can understand my crush: just look at that man, hanging out with Elwood and Jake.

I wander through his shop, Hank's Alley, at least once a week. It's the one antique store in town that doesn't think of itself as an antique store. That means I can afford stuff.

Hank's the only businessman I have ever met who regularly says, "Don't worry about the price on that tag. If you want it, I'll make sure you can get it."

This brutally cold winter has been brutal to all local businesses, Hank's included.  Today, I want to take you on a quick tour of the store, which is expanding into the second floor of the renovated firehouse on the corner of Kaldenberg and Central Ave in Tarrytown. 

The new upstairs is now set up with homey little scenes, like an Ikea showroom.

Half the furniture in my house comes from Hank: Deco wardrobes and sideboards, WWII era bookcases, rock maple dressers. end tables. Hank's Alley specializes in beautiful, unkillable, American-made furniture.

But look what else the man has for sale this winter.

An 8 foot tall birdcage. Hi, Frank, peeking out back there!

Vintage rocking horse.

Happy Days lunchbox

Winged Thai god. Ask for a special combo deal with the bird cage!

Vintage miniature kitchen appliances. American-made!

For the Disney lover in your life.

Beautiful display of stained glass windows.

Box of terrifying antique dolls.

Hank's Alley can furnish your home and your dreams (or nightmares, if you get those dolls). You call it.

Good stuff. Great prices. Go check it out.

HANK'S ALLEY
Hours: Wed - Sun, 10am - 5pm; Mon, Tue, closed
24 Kaldenberg Place, Tarrytown, NY 10591

Phone:(914) 524-9895

Copyright 2014, Tanya Monier

Comics: Open Female Aggression and Secret Male Desire

I've been ripping up the unsellable comics, those of the Aftermath, making neat little piles: "Big, Bold Heroes," "All Things Female," and "Ads That Play On Male Fear/Desire." I'm BURNING through the Mod Podge.

Really, anybody and everybody can decoupage the heroes. Easy Peasy. Just check out "Comics Decoupage" on Etsy.

Soon, you can find this matched set on my Etsy shop.

Women in Comics: Far more interesting. I've got loads of material on that topic. Some is raw cliche:


This poor superhero got supersized and abandoned in the desert. Yeah, that's gonna happen to her male counterpart...

In this 1970s ad, Wonder Woman's "SERIOUS WORK" is to "FIND A JAIL BIG ENOUGH TO HOLD THE FAT LADY AND HER EVIL FRIENDS" who really want "THE MALTESE CUP CAKE."

 

I had fun making this homage to Big-Haired Beauties:

 

"YES, WHAT DO YOU...OH, GOLLY!"

Some of these Oh-So-Scantily-Clad superheroes may appear come-hithery, but their responses to men (even to heroes) is a lot more Noli Me Tangere than I expected. Frankly, I like it.

So, I decoupaged a box I like to think of simply as "Female Contempt." This ad, from the late 80s, demanded center stage.

I chose elements of two different stories for the side panels: Fantastic Four's Frankie ditches her boyfriend, bursts into flame, and flies off, alone in the universe, shouting "I'M FREE!"  

 

 

This hardcore X-Men hero smashes villains to pieces and calls a fellow mutant "FOOL"...just before she makes out with him (ah, well, I skipped that part--I'm thinking of making a makeout box)

Good results, I think. Fierce!

 

Even more interesting are the ads in the older comics. Those guys didn't need Netflix or Google algorithms to understand their target market's dreams, fears, and secret desires:

Soldier-boy.

 

Voyeur.

 

Weakling. Mobile. Mysterious.

 

 

Manly. Gainfully employed.

 

I like to think of this one as my "Little Box of Male Insecurities." I think I might have a niche market thing for Etsy...

 

and I have A LOT of cigar boxes to work with, thanks to a genrous neighbor.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2014, Tanya Monier

 

 

 



 

 

 



DIY: Suitcase Endtable

Once upon a time, before the Northeast froze solid, I went to visit Mama Jennifer--aka "She-Who-Loans-Mod-Podge"--and I saw this child's chair next door, thrown out with a bunch of other stuff. Said "Other Stuff" ended up at The Cherry Door, but I was intrigued by the little stool. It joined the Outcast Party in my basement for many, many months.

One night, I tried to fix the stool myself. Immediately, I found the task undoable. I could not crack out the glue from pegs or holes that support the back piece. I'm not even sure the stuff was glue and not some kind of NASA-approved epoxy.

The pegs, too, were bizarre. Not one fit properly into both base and back, so the whole thing kept collapsing on itself.

Even The Man couldn't fix the chair's many problems. It was clearly homemade--and home-ruined--made by someone who understood how to make a stool, but not a chair.

So, the chair/stool languished, topless, in a corner.

Meanwhile, I was stumbling around and over a heck of a lot of vintage suitcases I kept after helping clear out the attic and basement of my friend who moved from her home of four decades. I was beginning to hate the basement--just piles of old stuff everywhere.

One day in November, Mama Jennifer, a Zen master of Pinterest (I kid you not--check out her boards) sent me some pins of suitcase end tables.

Ahhhh, a challenge that Victor Frankenstein would approve!

For This Project, You Will Need The Following:

A stool with a flat seat
A smallish suitcase. (IT MUST HAVE FLAT SIDES; otherwise, your drink will slide off onto the floor, and then you'll just have more to clean up.)
Pen or pencil
A hand drill
A screwdriver (that matches your screws)
4 metal washers
4 one-inch long wood screws

Since the stool acts as a solid base for the table, you won't need to cut out a piece of plywood to tuck inside the suitcase. I'll show you what that memorable process is like another day.

Step 1
Choose which side of the suitcase you want facing UP.

Place suitcase on stool, with the UP side facing UP. Center it: step back, take a look at it; if it looks good, it's centered enough. Hold tight to both pieces, and turn them over, so the stool is on top.

Step 2
Trace around the stool.

Remove stool. Make 4 X marks, evenly spaced, within the trace line. These Xs are where the screws will attach the stool and the suitcase to each other.

Step 3
Drill holes through (JUST THE) suitcase...at X points, please.

Do match your drill bit width to the width of the screw. You need to have pilot holes slightly smaller than the screws, otherwise the threads won't get a good bite on the wood.

Step 4
Place the suitcase--facing UP--on the stool again. (You're almost done, I swear)

Center the stool on the original trace lines from Step 2.

Drill pilot holes with the hand drill through the holes in the suitcase, into the stool. You'll want to go down about 1/2 inch, so you'll have an easier time twisting in the screws.

Step 5
Slide metal washers onto metal screws, then screw each into each hole.

 

Blow off the wood dust, clean up the suitcase and legs, and you're done!

I LOVE this end table, and I see that shoppers on Etsy, where I recently posted it, love it too. Now, if only one of them would buy it.

 

 

Or, do you want it? Look at that sweet smile... I can tell that it likes you!

 

Copyright 2014, Tanya Monier

 

 

 

Comics: The Decoupage Crisis

Mod Podge.

I'm cheap, so once upon a time, I tried to make my own Mod Podge, using a recipe I found at wikiHow.  It dripped, peeled when dry, and basically just stunk. Whatever makes the Podge superior, I am sold.

This blogger, who provides this pretty picture, clearly explains reasons why NOT to make your own Mod Podge.

So, when I got all nutty Sunday evening and started decoupaging a cigar box with the thrashed old comics that I could not sell to Undiscovered Realm, I had a bad feeling. The bottle was light, too light.

When did I even buy the bottle? I had no idea. What did I ever make with it? Not sure. I did have a visceral memory of peeling the stuff off my fingers like half-dried-snots, though, so I must have done someth--OH WAIT! I made Game Board Magnets. Whew! As my mama says, I was having a Senior Moment....

So, despite an obvious Mod Podge drought, I jumped in.

I have several comics decoupage projects in mind, some featuring big-haired women, some the flat-out awesome 1970s comic book ads ("BULLIED NO MORE!"). What seemed straightforward and easy, however, was to start my decoupage career by featuring a massive Milk Dud ad with The Joker as the lid of the cigar box.


 I HAD to wrap this 3-part ad around the outside, too. God, I love the late 70s...

"I TOO CAN BE SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE! AND SO CAN ANYONE!"

Before I started slapping on the Podge willy-nilly, however, I cut out pieces from other comics to fit the side and interior panels. AND, I read "How to Decoupage a Box"...again, wikiHow. (Insert small pat on the back for educating self here.)

I wanted an ALL VILLAIN box, but in the end, what's better than opening the lid and finding Batman there, waiting to thwart all evil plans?

 

Admittedly, I am a snob. I assumed that I'd hate decoupage, but I love it as much as a kindergartner loves playing with glue and paper. It's rad.

I papered the interior with "newspaper stories" from The Daily Planet pages that I found tucked in several comics.

 


  
I podged the interior and side panels first. It looked awesome. I glued and glued and dreamed of Etsy shoppers fighting over it. Then, I ran out of the good stuff.

In a PANIC, I threw out a Facebook call-to-arms. To my genuine surprise, not every citizen of the Rivertowns leapt to my aid. Most made fun of me. Fair enough. But, until a mama friend called and offered me the tender mercy of a few ounces of Mod Podge, I felt like THIS:



















I love this lady. I may use her in every post.

LOOK. The Joker's evil is being sealed in...forever.



And here IT IS.

HA HA HA HA HA!!

 

I love it.

In fact, I couldn't resist taking a few electrical outlet covers off the wall and decoupaging them during Downton Abbey.

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks for doing unto the Crafter as you would have done unto you, Mama Jennifer. I owe you....

 

Copyright 2014, Tanya Monier

Comics, pt. 4: The Aftermath

In fact, this is a short math problem.

I could not bring myself to include 13 really thrashed, but old, comics when I went to unload them at Undiscovered Realm in Hartsdale. I didn't think it would be fair to the owner, Chris. Coverless and/or tattered, they aren't worth $.50 as a group.



Check out the cover for The Odyssey and for Superboy. Love.

Ironically, if they had covers, these would have been among the more valuable comics in the boxes. Ah, well, so it goes.



1986, Green Lantern 201.
Yes, that's a flying raccoon annoying a four-armed creature.



 

I can't make myself toss these in the recycle bin, though.

 

"Your pulse is impossible, Son!"

"Have a care, Kildare! Each and every toe is virtually priceless!"

 

X-Men, story by Stan Lee...I can't bear to see this pulp turned into compost. 

 

 

New Mutants Special Edition vol 1, no. 1, 1986

 

If you desperately want to own some (or all) of these, you cover cost of shipping, and I'll get them to you. Otherwise, I'm afraid that their fate IS SEALED...

 

DECOUPAGE!!

 

Like it? Find it on Etsy at Hoshizaki Cube Star

 

Or...I can make you one...

Copyright 2014, Tanya Monier

Comics, pt. 3: Not Money

CREEEEK.

THWACK! One box on the counter.

THWACK! One more follows it.

Let the counting begin.





This is Chris. He's cool.



Follow Central Avenue south from Rt 119 in White Plains. Pass the Trader Joe's. Get ready to flip a U-ey when you see the Hartsdale Pet Cemetery on your right.



Thanks to The Petcast for the pic



Park, in front of the yellow hydrant if you must. Chris, the owner of Undiscovered Realm, says no one gets a ticket for parking there.

Then, open that creaky door, take a deep breath, and hold tight because you are about to enter a MAN CAVE.

The place was not what I expected. It's less a comic book shop than it is a way of life.

Via Facebook messages, Chris warned me not to come by on Friday or Saturday: "There's literally no room to stand."

Still, I was surprised that when I showed up, at 3 pm on a Sunday, a card competition was well underway. There is no downtime at Undiscovered Realm, I guess.

While I breathed deeply, acclimating to the den's distinctive scent, a player caught my attention.

Look at the picture above. That guy with the goatee and the brown coat smiled at me: "What a small world." We had met at the bar of Finalmente! the night before, bonding over homemade pasta and our admiration of US vixen Ashley Wagner's attempt to seduce the Olympic judges.
 
And just look how pissed she was that it didn't work....

Justin (my dinner buddy) and I shook hands. This I took as a good sign of my acceptance in the Den (I warned you in pt. 2 that this was only "mildly important"), but I might have been wrong.

Generally, I kept my eyes down as a guy named Andre (my dad's name--a good omen?) counted the comics, tucking in a Post-It every 100. It seemed the wise thing to do.

But when a guy I'll call "Ted" (the stuffed bear from the movie was behind him on the wall) told his fellow competitor, "I want to get you in the worst way!" I rolled my eyes and smirked.

Although no one else noticed my reaction, Ted did. His eyes flashed.

For the next three minutes, Ted, Chris, and several other guys (not, happily, Justin) casually threw the word "Penis"--and dazzling variations of it, from the scientific to the street, biological to prosthetic--into every utterance.

Oh, yes. I had angered The Bear.

(In times past, I used Eve Sedgwick's theory of Male Homosocial Desire to teach Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice, but it's always fun to have a real-life example of being pushed out of the homosocial circle...and you don't need to be a theorist to understand this experience. To be fair, though, I had busted into HIS Den with my annoying estrogen...)

As the tide of genitalia talk washed over me, I kept counting comics.

I was silently daring myself to launch into a detailed description of my two vaginal births when Ted loudly feigned surprise: "Oh! I should watch my mouth. We've got a New Customer here!"

Chris called back, "Naw, man, she's cool."

Just like that, the dick-talk ended.

And so help me God, I was suddenly awash in the same conflicting waves of feminist rage and "Exceptional Girl" pride that I felt as a young teen in Pat's '80s comic den.

But, Back to the Comics...

Chris and I agreed that the catalog of the boxed comics showed promise--a couple signed copies, some cover variants, a heck of a lot of Buffy, a $40 Daredevil from 1981 ($40 IF it didn't have "condition issues" like a 2 inch tear in the cover), a #1 of Shaolin Cowboy... valued at $30....


"Value" is one thing; finding a buyer is another. I'm a Re-seller, not a Retailer. Before I slept the night before, I was resolved: fifty cents per comic was my price.

Some, sure, were worth more...maybe.... Some, however, would only get pennies, simply because there's a glut of them on the market. When I considered the thing as a whole, $.50 a comic seemed fair: it represented a ten-fold return on my nickel-per-comic investment. And, since I had sweated through the research process, I know I wasn't handing over a genuine treasure by accident.

Chris and I recognized the pragmatist in the other, I think.

$.50 was our agreed price. There were 716 comics.

WHOOSH. Musty pulp paper and man-smell pushed me back out into the snowy afternoon.

I had $360 more for my travel fund, more than enough to cover four one-way flights from Bergen, Norway, to London, this summer. 

I hope Chris makes many thousands on those comics. One day, a 90s and 2000s Comic Bubble will grow and they'll be worth that.

In the meantime, I'm sure that Unknown Goodwill Guy is happy that his comics are back where they belong, with The Guys.


Copyright 2014, Tanya Monier