
When I was little I used to have a sky-scraper of a dolls house: Most levels were built by my Dad and housed a multitude of Sylvanian families, a school, grocery and Barbie (who lived in the cellar, where the walls were tall enough for her). I always used to love playing with the house, which back in the day, was taller than me.
My Mom's old doll house made up one of the level of my sky scraper.I never paid the decor much attention, preferring my Dad's architecture. The retired school teacher bear lived in it. I used to place him in his rocking chair where he would reminisce about his early years, back when he was a sea-fairing bear.
Some weeks ago I woke up with a detailed image of Mom's doll house in my mind. Not having given it a thought in years I was suddenly itching to take photos of it. One phone call and some trips to the attic later my parents reported successful retrieval of the garishly wall-papered abode. During my visit, the three of us worked our way through boxes and boxes of beautiful furniture until I found the grey-green sofas I had been looking for. The TV was a particularly pleasing find, as soon as I had forgotten all about it.
Holding the house:Dress: Lipstick Vogue
Shoes: Clarks
Living roomDress: RedDressShoppe (Stop Staring)
KitchenHat: Laura Dols
Blouse: Oasis
Skirt: Market
Shoes: Office
BathroomCurlers and vintage 40s dress