
My first official project was to locate prints in Godey’s Lady’s Book and Peterson’s Magazine, two nineteenth-century fashion magazines, to show changes in style over time. With over a hundred beautifully hand-colored images to choose from, selecting a few to accompany the exhibit’s labels was challenging. Next, I picked accessories for an 1830s dress and a men’s velvet suit from 1800. Even with a list of bonnets from the 1830s, it’s hard to not get distracted. Remember, the dress only needs one bonnet. The bonnets are stored in different boxes. Looking through and carefully unwrapping the acid-free tissue paper from the headwear feels like Christmas every time. While in storage or doing research, I am always surprised by what I discover.

Brooke Steinhauser and Jennie Davy also researched and recommended pieces for the exhibit. Brooke focused on undergarments – corsets, crinolines and bustle pads – all essential for creating iconic, nineteenth-century silhouettes. To put the dresses and people who wore them better into context, the some of the clothing will be displayed on antique furniture. Applying the information from her American Material Culture course, Jennie Davy selected a variety of furniture including chairs, mirrors, a sewing machine and reed organ.
From the time a museum picks an exhibit topic or theme, creating it takes hours of imaginative thinking, innovative research, careful selection, and meticulous design. Selecting what gets exhibited is only a small part of the process. Deciding what makes the cut is always difficult, but not everything can be displayed at once. Nevertheless, the design, materials, and intricate details of the items, which will be exhibited beginning in April, make the pieces absolutely incredible.
At the same time, the modern celebration of Christmas was developing a special emphasis on children, with wrapped presents under indoor trees delivered by the intrepid Saint Nicholas. So this ceramic bank is particularly appropriate—a snowball topped by the old, thinner model of Santa Claus. Parents could give their children a bank like this on Christmas and encourage them to save their pennies in the coming year.
Or the message could be more direct, as in this still bank in the form of…a bank. A sturdy metal model, this bank was undoubtedly intended to remind one of the full-sized variety, a safe place to deposit one’s funds.
Mechanical banks reached the height of their popularity in the first half of the 20th century but persisted much longer. The Mercury Rocket Bank shown here brought the concept into the space age—or at least the Buck Rodgers era. To make a deposit in the Rocket Bank, one placed the coin in the slot on top, then pulled back the spring-loaded “spaceman” to fire the coin into the bank. These rocket banks were often bought by banks and given away to customers’ children as promotional items.
On the wooded eastern shores of Glimmerglass there are quiet spots, mostly known to locals. At first glance Fairy Spring Park is just a steeply pitched, wooded picnic area and narrow dock. That is, until one finds the trail. The trail begins just north of the park proper. It disappears into the woods, literally. Although poorly kept, it reveals worthy secrets if you take the time. It's a hike for the sure-footed. The terrain is very steep and slippery. Fairy Spring is an apt name. The wooded, nearly vertical slope is covered by moss, ferns and tree roots. Under this living skin of roots and moss, rivulets sharply make their way down to the lake. It's a quiet, leafy place fit for fairies.
Across the way, a 1932 iron plaque states:
Hard by, is Lakewood cemetery. Upslope from Fairy Spring, it's a steep and terraced burying ground, full of stately trees and old stones. Each turn of the way, each unique monument calls to the curious. A quiet refuge from the world, where the water softly shimmers up from the lake, and a deep, cushioning moss hangs o'er all. Chipmunks and birds make it a lively spot, playing in expertly laid-stone walls and stone staircases. There is age here and history, and touching tales. A hand-hewn granite boat in full sail, attests to the love for family and water. Up the twin, steeply curved, stone staircases, a bench to contemplate a hero of the Titanic. It is a worthy place. 

Look at this amazing bowl! I love the photos that show the translucency of the horn. You can even see the veins in the horn, reminding us that this material was once alive. Northwest Coast artists were skilled carvers of sheep horn. The resilient horn was first steamed and then molded into shape. The dish is remarkable for its beautifully observed rendering of a small alert seabird. The bowl’s outer surface is carved in relief with formline designs representing the bird’s wings, feet, and tail-feathers, and there is an additional face on the breast with a projecting hooked nose. It is great to have an opportunity to photograph an object from many angles. I think readers of the forthcoming catalogue will really appreciate that feature. 

Sarah grows-up and marries William G. Sands in 1837. For her wedding she wears a dress that becomes one of the stars of our collection. The Sands wedding dress is exquisite – white floral satin with numerous hand-stitched tucks and pleats. In addition to being in great shape and drop-dead gorgeous it is the earliest known example of a dress with a label in it (and we have it here in the NYSHA collection!).
The saga continues. In 1884 Catherine Odessa Sands Packard, daughter of William and Sarah makes a crazy quilt. In the quilt is a patch of fabric contributed by Catherine’s mother Sarah, and stitched with the dates 1837 and 1882. The fabric is from our very own Sands wedding dress (Sarah’s) and the dates commemorate Sarah and William’s 45th wedding anniversary (1837) and the 1882 wedding of their daughter Catherine.