You Silly Goose!: Calling All Collectors

I was there; I participated.  That's a phrase I rarely get to say when it comes to the vintage trends I adore, but if we're referring to home decor featuring geese in bonnets and/or blue ribbons, I can confirm that not only was I at the party, but I inhaled.  It was cottage core before the term existed and it was darling.  This was a decorating trend over which my paternal gramma and I bonded instantly.  Ceramic crocks, metal tins, wind chimes, and wall art, we loved them all and unofficially collected them together.

Geese.  Wearing ribbons.  And bonnets.  If you're not familiar with this niche, let me give you a mini-history lesson of this micro trend.  It began in the late 1980s and lasted only a few years until about 1994, but during that time if there was a blank surface in a home, it could be covered...with a well-dressed goose.  It sounds simple, but really it was a bit of a rebellious outcry against what I like to call the New York Business Power Couple aesthetic we saw in all the movies.  It was a prototype for the sad-greige-minimalist aesthetic embraced by...well, pretty much everyone right now.  This was a rustic rebellion and I wouldn't mind if it made a comeback.

Looking back it sounds like such a silly thing to catch on and be trendy for years.  But, I suppose all trends seem silly in hindsight and if I'm being honest, I still love this look not just because it reminds me of happy times and shared enthusiasm, but because it's so sweet and wholesome.

My oldest daughter was moving out and mentioned that her new roommate loved and was collecting all the goose goods she could find in her excitement to decorate their apartment.  I decided to make a contribution in the form of some tins and a set of salt and pepper shakers.  

Of my own childhood stores of goosey decor, I have kept only one tin and this goose windchime which my grandmother gave to me.  I hung it in a corner of my room which I later moved my bed directly under.  Every time I had a friend sleepover they would invariably hit their head on the windchime, setting it clanging.  I started calling it my Guest Alarm because it always let me know it was time to get up because my guest was up.  It broke somewhere around 1993, probably from a guest who's had just about enough, and I've always kept it because my grandmother died not long after and it just a small nostalgic piece of us.  It's been tucked in a drawer for years now, but this year I finally decided to mend it.  I want it back in a window reminding me of happy times.