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I got this little snap-close plastic container with food-shaped erasers at the dollar store yesterday. Specifically, Dollarama. This is the kind of thing Dollarama is importing! I love it.

I had a conversation with the guy at Vintage in the Village (if you’ve ever been there, you know that once you start a conversation with the proprietors, well-meaning as they are, you’d better settle in for at least 15 minutes of discussion! And the only way to end the discussion is to physically walk away) about things that were inexpensive back in the day but are now sought-after by collectors because of their scarcity today. Things that are inexpensive are not preserved and cared for the same way objects that are pre-determined to be collectibles or heirlooms are, thus ensuring their place in the future vintage Hall of Desirability. He pointed in particular to these metallic drinking glasses from the mid-century — I don’t know if they’re made of tin or what, but they’re painted on the outside, and apparently they were the kind of thing you’d pick up at Woolworth’s and have on the patio in the summer. They were especially handy because you could freeze liquids in them (before plastics were ubiquitous). Now, they’re rare, because no one thought to hold on to them. They got dented, they got chipped, they got tossed out. Not like grandmother’s china.

I suggested that in our future, the sheer glut of material objects in our society will mean that fewer objects will hold vintage fascination. He disagreed. He thought that the stuff we get at the dollar store today could be prized by collectors decades from now (and not just because they’ll be scrounging for any and all implements that will allow them to survive in a post-apocalyptic wasteland).

I’ve found myself more and more surprised by the aesthetic appeal of things you can find at Dollarama, lately. For instance, the notebooks don’t just have garish holographic cartoon animals on the covers, but elegant bird motifs (a motif which is old meme to the design-savvy, of course, but it’s mainstream now, and still pleasing to look at, especially when compared with the alternative).

None of this has anything to do with the food-shaped erasers, which I got because they are just too adorable to pass up. Or use, for that matter. Likely not an heirloom — but one never knows.

It’s been a Star Trek kind of day for me. Well, let’s face it, most days are Star Trek days for me, and have been since the early ’90s when I reached tweenage and, instead of being annoyed with my dad for watching Star Trek: The Next Generation on Friday nights, began to adopt this branch of sci-fi as one of my personal favourite escapes from reality.

The Trekness today began when I was surfing some music blogs in preparation for my radio show and visited what is arguably one of the best music blogs of all time, Said the Gramophone, and found this picture accompanying one of the posts:

As per the watermark, the image originates at another blog I follow: The Drex Files, written by Doug Drexler, an illustrator, designer, and visual effects artist who has worked on Star Trek stuff since the ’70s. His blog is a treasure trove of Trek-related trivia, memorabilia and miscellania, so it’s no surprise that he’d feature this rad photo of Leonard Nimoy in costume on the Paramount lot, leaning in a decidedly GQMF-style against a car of unknown vintage, make and model (it’s discussed, but not resolved, in the comments to the original Drex Files post).

Not an hour after this photo popped up on my screen did this video. It’s a fanvid created by starcrossedgirl that mashes up Original Series footage with Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit,” throwing in a little Alice in Wonderland footage for good measure. The hyperdramatic acting styles of Shatner and co. lend very well to this kind of “crack”-vid.

Watching Original Series footage of any kind, lately, makes my mind jump to another televisual love of mine, Mad Men. The celebrated period drama is currently set in 1963, three years before Star Trek first aired. But I can’t help contrasting the straight-laced lives of the Mad Men characters with the fantastical divergence of Star Trek. I wonder if modern audiences, both self-professed sci-fi fans and not, are more sanguine about the fantastic than mid-century audiences were. I mean, we’ve had 50 solid years of colour motion pictures telling sci-fi stories, showing us wildly alien aliens, strange new worlds and larger-than-life heroes and villans and, more recently, heroes who sometimes are also villains.

Not to mention the fact that science fiction has become science fact. My flip-up cell phone looks an awful lot like Captain Kirk’s communicator. And you can’t tell me that this:

(GE portable ultrasound machine)

Doesn’t look a lot like this:

(Dr. Beverly Crusher with medical tricorder)

That is all.

(Zoe Saldana and Chris Pine, a.k.a. Lt. Uhura and Capt. Kirk)

Ruth and I went over to Ragpickers for the annual $20 all-you-can-wear sale. We didn’t end up participating in the actual sale, though, because we arrived a bit late and the lineup was long and we were lazy and not overly invested in obtaining mounds of hastily-procured vintage clothing.

We did do some shopping, though. Ruthie tried on some coats:

I really liked this one — very abominable snowman/yeti. However, it was $100 and therefore not in Ruth’s comfort zone as far as impulse buys go.

Ruth did purchase this number, though — a mossy green down-filled affair with jersey knit inlays. Thirty-four bucks and eminently functional.

Word has been spreading about the Bay’s garage sale. Last night I got a call from my friend LMac, on her way home from an excavation of the Bay basement, which netted her a — well, it’s one of those model things they use to display men’s underwear. So it starts at the hip and ends at the mid-thigh. Anyway, she wasn’t the only one.

Cynara got herself a plus-size mannequin not unlike mine.

She has named it Dagmar. If you visit that link to her Flickr page, you can also see an amusing feathery bird ornament.

This story starts last week. I was in the basement level of the downtown location of the Hudson’s Bay Company, known less formally as The Bay, a department store that is the modern incarnation of the oldest corporation in North America. I’m down there quite a bit, because it’s close to my work and they have a quite servicable little grocery store down there, where the produce is often fresher and cheaper than the Safeway down the street from my house. (The Bay Food Market is also delightfully vintage in feeling, given that it has not seen the renovatory upgrades that all Safeways and Superstores have by now. In fact, it’s been used as a film location for period movies requiring an older grocery story.)

So I was down in what is known as the Bargain Basement, because it’s also the location of much of the Bay’s clearance merchandise. I noticed a sign that said “BAY DISPLAY GARAGE SALE – STARTS JANUARY 12.” There was a cordoned-off area, and in it were many wonderous things. Full-size carousel horses. Giant display racks. Oversize Christmas ornaments. And, most strikingly, mannequins.

I’ve often thought I should get some form of mannequin. More specifically, a head, for modelling hat-type creations when I photograph them for sale or other documentation. And so, last week, I found myself contemplating this:

That’s a full-size male mannequin in hot pink, with an identical twin. Sure, the guys are in a state of some disrepair, but it’s nothing a little epoxy couldn’t fix, right? My apartment is small and overcrowded already but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider seriously purchasing one of these dudes for the blowout price of $50.

Monday morning came, and I was there at 10 a.m. for the store’s opening. Lots of other people had the same idea I did — the basement was full of people milling about, looking at giant plaster planters, merchandising accoutrements, and those giant bottles of perfume. And there were lots of mannequins. Most of the fanciest ones — those with heads — were snapped up early. But there were still plenty of clothing-display devices.

So I got one.

It cost $10, and given its wood-and-resin construction, I daren’t think what it cost originally. I think it’ll come in handy on occasion, and won’t take up as much space as the full-size pink models above (though it’s significantly less fun.

Other finds:

I was told by someone on Facebook that the sale will continue and new items will be brought out daily. This could be problematic. Not so much for my pocketbook (the hatbox above was $3, the ornaments $0.25 each) but on the fact that I’m already crowding myself out of my living space.