What's Your Silver Pattern, Dear?

(Left to Right) Faneuil, King William,
Hamilton, and Hampton by Tiffany & Co.
Martha Stewart Weddings

The first week of the new year is always depressing. The shiny decorations have to be taken down. It's back to business as usual at work. Clothes everywhere seem to have shrunk virtually overnight.

But one person is blissfully oblivious to the malaise around her: the new fiancée. She basks in the rainbow glow cast by the carbon crystal dangling on her finger, which she periodically thrusts under our noses for closer inspection. Not that we are envious or anything. Well, maybe a tad. It is really sparkly.

Over the next few months, happy women and their bored-but-dutiful menfolk will descend on Crate & Barrel, Macy's, and Target. Lists of coffee makers, stock pots, and chef knives will be drawn up. The men will be handed scanner guns and, while their future brides are momentarily distracted by blenders, will register for camping equipment and Tide. "Because we need Tide," they will helpfully explain to bewildered faces later.

Today, everything from video games to tropical vacations is fair game on bridal registries. But you won't see many silver patterns. Silver has simply gotten too expensive. And besides, modern couples want useful gifts. Silver, which must be washed by hand and polished periodically, is considered hopelessly impractical.

Still, some women wouldn't dream of getting married without registering for silver. Most of them, it seems, reside in the Delta. Open the pages of any issue of Southern Living, and you'll see tables set with patterns like Francis I, Chantilly, and Fiddle Thread, sometimes all at once.

Strasbourg by Gorham and Francis I by Reed & Barton
Southern Living, March 2012

In many families, allegiances to certain silver patterns are as fixed as those to Chi Omega and the Crimson Tide. But for those of us not born into a Rose Point or Buttercup matriarchy, picking a silver pattern can be a tricky proposition. We may ask ourselves, "Is this salad fork really me?" Luckily for us, the silverware-based horoscope in Marilyn Schwartz' A Southern Belle Primer can tell us whether we are a Chrysanthemum or an Acorn.

Marilyn Schwartz can help you predict  whether you'll get
along with your future daughter-in-law based
on her answer to the not-at-all strange question,
"What's your silver pattern, dear?"

When the Merry Husband and I got married, I decided on Tiffany's Faneuil, a pattern that would nevah evah make Schwartz' list of approved patterns. The name seemed a fitting tribute to the Merry Husband's adopted hometown of Boston, and the shape reminded me of Tiffany's iconic knife-edge solitaire. Although silver didn't make our registry list either, my sister (always the traditionalist) gave us a cake knife and server as an engagement gift. Since then, I've been picking up pieces of the older, heavier stuff from eBay, Replacements, and Beverly Bremer. This year, I'll be cutting back on my clothing budget so that I can add a piece or two a month to my collection.

The Five O'Clock Teaspoon

In 2009, Tiffany & Co. broke the hearts of many a blue box loyalist when it discontinued, seemingly overnight, much of its china and flatware.  Gone were the Audubon china pattern and the best dessert plate ever.

Gone, too, were Tiffany's 1960s-chic Bamboo flatware, its scalloped Wave Edge pattern designed in 1884, and its elaborate Olympian, whose every piece depicted a different scene from Greek mythology.  And with them vanished many of the more obscure pieces, like the five o'clock teaspoon.

So, I was surprised and thrilled (thrilled!) this weekend to see that Tiffany is again offering an "afternoon teaspoon" in several of its remaining silver patterns.  We Americans now get our caffeine fixes in 16, 20, and (shudder) 30-ounce paper buckets cups, but there was a time when we drank from delicate porcelain cups so thin that they were almost translucent.   A regular teaspoon would overpower such a cup, so a slightly smaller spoon was needed.

Generally speaking, a teaspoon is 6 inches long, give or take a quarter of an inch.  A five o'clock teaspoon is typically between 5 1/4 and 5 1/2 inches.  This may not seem like much of a difference until you see the two together.  For illustration, below are three Tiffany spoons: an 6 1/8-inch Olympian teaspoon, a 5 3/8-inch Faneuil five o'clock teaspoon, and a 4-inch Chrysanthemum demitasse spoon.

Here, the Olympian and Faneuil spoons are shown with a Belleek teacup produced between 1891 and 1926.  You can see that the Olympian looks much too big.

Now, if only Tiffany would bring back the berry spoon...

EDITED ON MONDAY, DEC. 12, 2012:

It seems I spoke too soon.  Tiffany has broken my heart once again.  Yesterday, I emailed the good people at the customer service department to find out the exact sizes of the Faneuil spoons listed as "afternoon teaspoon" and "coffee spoon" on their website.  The response was prompt, but disappointing.  Sadly, the afternoon teaspoon is a mere 4 1/2 inches long.  The coffee spoon is a teensy 4 inches.

What this tells me is that Tiffany is passing off an after-dinner coffee spoon as five o'clock teaspoon, and a demitasse spoon as a coffee spoon.  So much for buying shiny new five o'clock teaspoons in happy blue boxes!  Looks like I'll still be trawling eBay.  \sigh

Speaking of Brits...

I finally got around to seeing the latest installment of the James Bond franchise, Skyfall.  It would have been completely unremarkable except for these two scene-stealers: the insanely gorgeous French-Cambodian-Chinese actress, Bérénice Lim Marlohe

and this little guy by Royal Doulton, tragically sold out everywhere.

Jack, as he's known, sat on M's desk throughout much of the movie.  Turns out, he has a refined pedigree - in the 1940s, Royal Doulton made "Churchill" bulldogs as patriotic symbols.

Perhaps the original was a bit more charming, but this time around Jack has his own James Bond intro.

If you are in love, fear not.  Like James Bond, Jack will be back - in February 2013.

Royal Babies and Electro Birthdays

I heard the wonderful news this morning that Will & Kate are expecting a baby.  I am beyond excited.  Yes, yes, it's wonderful news for the happy and beautiful couple.  But more importantly, this means...new commemorative china!

Now don't get me wrong, I adore Kate, but I spend more time thinking about the House of Pies than about the House of Windsor.  I do, however, appreciate a family that documents all its major milestones in porcelain.  My favorite source for these fancy yet tacky souvenirs is the Royal Collection Shop.  Over the years, I've bought more plates, tankards, and bric-a-brac emblazoned with shiny crowns and shiny faces than I care to admit.  In the mornings, I often get a caffeine-fueled ego boost from this cup. 

Long may I reign.

I never got around to buying a Royal Wedding plate because I was too busy blowing the budget on getting ready for our own distinctly non-U wedding in June.  I do wish, though, that I had snagged this one.


Plate by KK Outlet

In other news, today is the 20th birthday of the text message.  In case you were wondering, the very first text read simply, "Merry Christmas."  I am tempted to wax poetic on the decline of good manners, fountain pens, and carrier pigeons, but I'll spare you.  Instead, I will leave you with this text message from a gentler time.

Flea Market Finds: Opera Glasses

When I was in high school, my best friend and I were obsessed with the Scarlet Pimpernell, a Zorro-style tale set during the French Revolution.  Our favorite scene involved the Pimpernell, dressed as a vain and superficial fop, wielding a monocle while reciting his poem,

They seek him here,
They seek him there,
Those Frenchies seek him everywhere. 
Is he in Heaven,
Or is he in Hell?
That damned elusive Pimpernell!

I don't have the sartorial fortitude to wear a monocle around my neck anymore, but I don't have the same reservations about accessorizing my home with some dandyish details.  You can pick up vintageParisian mother-of-pearl opera glasses from eBay or flea markets for $50 - $100 (depending on condition).  If you're lucky, you can find them with handles or their original cases.      

Here are a couple of mine.  Although I don't get out to the opera much, I find them handy to peep on the squirrels in the tree by my balcony.