not always for pockets
I found a little tiny pocket knife in an antique store today. I like its plaid and its worn down silver ends very much, and the fact that it will never ever match what I’m wearing.
It will be my little souvenir of Washington DC, especially if I can be sensible and mail it home instead of taking my chances at airport security next week. Even if they’re remiss where comically ineffective blades are concerned, my brother says that they’ll take one look and know I could threaten someone with tetanus.
I think it’s awesome.
Reminds me of 80′s punk wear.
Your brother has a great sense of humor, I bet when you two get together if it’s any thing like The Chook Man and his brother, the Peanut Gallery is open and in full swing …
ala the two old guys from the Muppets.
Always nice to meet people with similar obsessions! I get my love of old pocket knives from my dad and now we’ve passed our obsession on to my son. Like most vintage items, it’s the “well loved” aspect to them that supplies the charm. That plaid is fabulous!
Love the whole look of your blog! Feels something like being in a clean, beautifully and uniquely decorated kitchen with cookies baking. Mmmmm….
I’m not sure why. And now I want some cookies.
Cuuuute necklace.