Some of you may have noticed some very sweet and cheery paper situations lurking around the back railing of the shop these past few days. Well, you’ve gone and noticed yourself some vintage Osborn and Woods dead-stock special special screen-printed postcards. We got our hands on a serious stash of ‘em, good for hording, sending, and framing.
Another G & G party, so soon? Can’t believe your luck? Believe, bunnies, believe. ‘Tis Pride weekend after all.
Kick off your round of celebrations with free mimosas and massages, courtesy of Massage Master Liz, this Saturday, June 28th. We’ll be setting up around 11 am (that means morning-time!) and you are more than welcome to come on by, even if you have to drag one of us dithering and drooling from the massage chair to get your fair share of rub down action. Hooray for Pride!
Thanks so much to everyone who turned out for the party last night. While saying our enthusiastic hellos to all of your happy solsticing faces, we also had to bid sweet adieu to some of our most favorite items: the naughty fiesta striped romper cum demure hostess dress, the billowing Mama Cass-ish vintage maternity dress (sold to the most beautiful preggers mama of all time!), stripey shirt upon stripey shirt, and yes, even our beloved, very very grumpy miner friend! Thanks especially to Phillip, our supremely talented Open/Closed sign-maker artist friend, for coming out and to Mr. Ed Masuga for busting out the serious songs. We can’t wait for the next party!
Also, for your daydreaming pleasure, consider this: “On the West Coast, where gold is more abundant, a modern gold rush is taking place, with more mining claims being filed and more people turning to prospecting full time.” Totally, totally. It’s happening in our rivers and streams, it’s happening at Treat & 18th Street, and The New York Times seems to think it’s happening in my home-state of Virginia….
Get a jump on official solstice (11:59 pm Friday) celebrations by coming to celebrate with us (from 7 pm Thursday, June 19th). We’ll provide the ice cold beers, you provide the singing, dancing and howling at the moon.
Also, for those of you sadly bereft of the ability to read microscopic pixillated text on terrific hand-tinted 19th century prints, the fella to the left here is “The Independent Gold Miner on his Way to California.” Now the only questions that remain are, Where did you get your boots? and Can I get you a beer?