Make this Crisp White Pipe Cleaner Wreath

I found this wreath on the internet and thought,
“I can make that” Unfortunately, I can’t find where it came from to give credit. The photos
and instructions below are my own.


3 bags of 100 12″ white pipe cleaners

18″ metal wreath frame (4 rows)

8-10 medium pine cones

Handful of reeds


Cut the pipe cleaners in half so you have 600 6″ segments

Twist the first pipe cleaner on as shown (see photo)

Continue adding pipe cleaners until you have used about 40 segments in one area (see photo)

Continue adding and straightening until you have filled the entire frame

Tie a 12″ piece of florist wire around the bottom of each pine cone and attach every 8 inches

You can add a few reeds to the wreath to give it a little rustic appeal.

Hatty New Year

Ladies and their head coverings! I could write a blog.

This girl had fun trying on hats at my flea market set up at Market Hall.

We all love to try them on and mug for the camera. Surprisingly few women look exceptional in hats and I think that’s because they don’t try hard enough to find the right one.

There’s more to choosing a hat than meets the eye. You have to view yourself 360 degrees to see how you look from behind and from the side, too.

I’ve been buying and selling vintage hats at the North Dallas Antique Mall for many years and I’ve seen the expression on a woman’s face when she finds a hat she likes. Happiness. Satisfaction. Pride. But will she actually wear it when she leaves the store? Most people want a hat for an event–a wedding, a ’70s disco party, Halloween high jinks or a Roaring ’20s casino night. I fix them up with something and off they go. That hat may only get worn once, but we’re a hair closer to reviving the heyday of hats.

Having a stack of old hats around is a lovely way to liven up a bridal shower, as we did here for my niece, Shannon.

I could rattle off the names of the different styles and manufacturers and what years they were producing and maybe some day I will do just that. For now I wanted to showcase some of my friends, family and customers sporting some high-fashion and hilarious head pieces.

Erin McCarthy heads on stage in Ridgewood High’s production of 42nd Street.

She looks just as cute in a surgical cap.

This pretty coed stopped by to try on a bonnet. Isn’t she the picture of innocence?
Head-to toe vintage mastery starts with some smart millinery.
I just love this shot of my niece, Lauren, a few years back posing in a fabulous faux mink.
An ordinary velvet bucket hat comes alive with the addition of a vintage pin.
Always looking for new angles on old finds. Wish I knew how to use Photoshop, eek!
Net worth: Such a delicate confection to wear to your next inauguration.
Fellow dealer, Denny Baker, and me mugging in our paper “vase” hats.
I’m sure there’s a twiggy under there.

Not sure what turns two otherwise perfectly normal women into goofballs when trying on hats.
Even my mannequins look great.
Oh Nellie!

New York City hatmaker Bill Cunningham’s 1960’s logo
J.C. Penney paper and chiffon chapeau
And last, but not least, the hat heard ’round the world.

All In A Day’s Work

Another busy day at the antique mall as people scrambled to buy vintage ornaments at 80% off and find the last ceramic trees for next year.

It’s a great place to bring out of town guests for a few hours. I walked around and took a few pictures of weird things we sell.

Here’s just a sampling:

No home is complete without these captivating creatures: their limbs are made of beer bottle caps.


Alley oops. Who could resist these big-eyed scalawags?

Monkey mind under glass I suppose

Whoooo doesn’t love owls?

The Conehead Kid

Winky Dink

Holiday One Offs

Matador Decor

And last but not least…

D-I-Y plastic cup holiday lights!

Collecting, Culling and Curating

My pottery collection provides so much pleasure 

The green glaze of pottery is as varied as grass, water, emeralds, chameleons and acorn squash. That’s what makes collecting so much fun.

It was at a student sale that I bought my first piece of pottery in 1986. My mother-in-law worked at Richland College then and turned me on to the pop-up sale secreted away in the student union.

The work seemed remarkably fine, representing a small but talented group of potters who sat lined up at a table ready to wrap the purchases.

Inexpensive pieces ranged from about five to thirty five dollars for a small cup to a large vase. I made a point of shopping that pre-Christmas sale for many years, building up my collection.

From there, I hit the thrift stores with a mission: I became a green pottery go getter. Names like McCoy, Haeger and Treasure Craft replaced Chanel and St. John. I graduated to top-shelf studios like Weller, Roseville, Rookwood and Francoma. I discovered California Potteries. My shelves filled up.

Rare pair of green ceramic hen and rooster candlestick holders found on a trip to Rosenberg, Texas

Soon green pottery began to dominate my physical and mental surroundings. It would remain a passion and pastime for several decades.

Now I have so many beautiful pots I go through and pull the ones I don’t love any more and sometimes put them up for sale.

I think focusing on one particular thing like green pottery has brought a lot of joy to my love of thrift stores. The search is less random.

Souvenir from Buenos Aires flea market
Found at a community college student art sale
Pair of matte green vases

I’ve Got A Junkshop Jones

IMG_5238Busman’s holiday: A vacation always includes stopping at stores like this one on the coast of Oregon just in case there’s something special inside.

Welcome. This is a blog about exploring, hunting, examining, discovering, dreaming, fantasizing, sifting, scouring, repairing, reclaiming, collecting, culling and creating.

And yes, it is about acquiring things while trying to stay organized, clear and clutter-free.

I named this blog Junkshop Jones not only because my name is Debra Goldie Jones. I wanted to convey the importance this interest has had in my life. There’s a great blog on the origin of the word “jones.” Basically it’s an appetite, a craving or addiction. Like any addiction, you have the obsessive thought, “I think it might be nice to hit a thrift store today.” Followed by the compulsion or acting out, pulling up in front of the thrift store and going in.

I hate to liken my passion to an addiction but it is. I have chosen to shop when I woulda/coulda/shoulda been working, socializing, learning and keeping house.

I went to my first garage sale when I was a teenager in the late sixties. A Jewish couple named Joyce and Al lived a few doors down on my block. One day I noticed they had their garage door open and a little sign out. I bought a long (midi) double-breasted white canvas coat with a tight waist and lots of extra ties (similar to the J.Peterman gaucho). I felt so incredibly cool. I don’t know what i paid, probably a few dollars. The coat still had the manufacturer’s tags on it. Joyce mentioned something about Al selling samples. This introduced me to the idea that i could have access to high fashion, even couture, that was very expensive at the retail level but quite affordable when found at wholesale or slightly used.

I didn’t know about pushcarts and the garment district and odd job lots. I just knew I liked bargain hunting and that feeling would stay with me my whole life as I went from Daffy Dan’s in Elizabeth, New Jersey, to the bowels of Filene’s basement in Boston to the masthead of The Underground Shopper in Dallas.

Like any addiction, you have the obsessive thought, “I think it might be nice to hit a thrift store today.” Followed by the compulsion or acting out, pulling up in front of the thrift store and going in.

I hope to post pictures and stories about what I find and, eventually, offer some items for sale. I’ll be writing about everything from art pottery and glass to hats and handbags to masterpieces resurrected from the Ashcan School of Painting (literally).

People who like Pinterest for the pictures and ideas will enjoy this blog. I hope to make the writing witty and informative.

Wish me luck. I’ll see you in the junkshops hither and yon.