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Discovered! 505
Odd Enterprises

Hidden Dollars

How to Make
Money at Home

Small Business
of Your Own

You Can Own
a Business

The mother, Mrs. Vaughn Twibell, of Norman, Oklahoma, made her first lamp shade soon after she was married. Really desirable shades, she had thought, were just too expensive to buy, so she made one.

It had some defects, she had realized. However, it had furnished such an enriching experience that she was not discouraged in the least. In fact, she was so encouraged that she made more shades, and with better results. She really found the work ideal as a means of mental relaxation.

Consequently, the hobby went on as a hobby for years. It worked wonders in solving such problems as Christmas gifts, gifts for bridal showers, birthday gifts, items for church bazaars and such. That was the way it went until five years ago when Mrs. Twibell was widowed.

RECENTLY I visited the lamp shade maker's home. In the dining room to my left, surrounded by antiques and order, Mrs. Twibell, an attractive woman, was adjusting a glittering, gold ruffled, ivory satin whirl shade on the correct type of lamp, as a customer stood and watched. Stepping back, she appraised it.

"Isn't that a beauty!" she said, triumphantly.

"It's perfect!" the customer exclaimed. "Wrap it."

Smiling, Mrs. Twibell thanked her and slipped the shade into a box.

The customer dropped $35 on the antique table.

During the next quarter hour while awaiting my turn, I learned that Mrs. Twibell had become a needle expert while she, then Goldie Corn, was a student at Saint Mary of the Woods, in Indiana. With an amused smile she quoted the nun in charge of domestic art as having said:

"Girls, I want you to learn to use a needle; to apply yourselves and become expert in exquisite needlework, darning and applied patching. A girl never knows when she may find it necessary to darn, or apply a patch. Early training is wonderful."

"To that," Mrs. Twibell went on, "the girls responded differently. Take Goldie Corn. You should have seen her nose go up. She, a fine arts student, a harpist, learning such bunk! The fancywork was all right, of course, but the mending and darning!"

Nevertheless, despite her resentment, Goldie became the class star.

THE TWO years following her graduation from Saint Mary of the Woods, Goldie Corn taught harp at Hammond Conservatory of Music and did concert work. Then, she married Vaughn Twibell and settled down.

In due time, family obligations came between her and music, art and other nonessentials. She became the mother of seven children. Needless to say, she did not give up darning and patching.

Then, in 1944, she was widowed. With but one child left at home, aside from volunteer war work, she had long hours of unwanted leisure at a time when every nerve was shouting for action. She had all but decided to move her neglected harp down from a daughter's attic and take a refresher course. Then, a casual remark became the spark that started her thinking of her hobby and created the trademark: "Shades by Goldia."

"I was remodeling a shade when my sister, who owns and operates, 'Shades by Sylvia,' said: 'You know, Goldie, I think you should go into the lamp shade business. With your training in art and your temperament, you would have no difficulty. Right here in your home, you could easily run your hobby into a business that would make you financially independent'."

It was that speech that launched the retired harpist on a new career; sent her to Indianapolis for training in Sylvia's shop.

AFTER THREE weeks of intensive training with five specialists, who taught all details from procurement to salesmanship, a wise, but very fatigued woman returned to Norman.

"However," Mrs. Twibell said, "enthusiasm soon beat down weariness and I got down to business. And once you're in the lamp shade business, you're stuck for life."

The work time per day depends upon the number of standing orders and outside activities, she said. Not only does she keep a large home in order for herself and her teen-age daughter, now in boarding school, but she is an active member of several study clubs and social groups. She thinks change of occupation is less tiring than steady work and saves time in the long run. Consequently, when tired of, say ruffling, she switches to cutting, wrapping frames, or sees a good movie. Often she takes a day or two off to go to Oklahoma City and visit her children, hear a good lecture, shop for materials and get ideas.

"How many shades should a person make in a day?" I asked.

"Like all other work," she answered, "that depends upon various factors such as natural ability, style and size of the shade and so on. I can make a fussy boudoir petticoat shade in a day, by not stopping even to eat." With a shrug she added, "Telephone and door bell cooperating, of course. And it's fascinating work."

I HAD, meantime, found and purchased a pair of shades that had carried me away at first sight. Waiting for her to box them, I asked if she would mind letting me peek into her shop, to give me a running idea of methods used in shade construction.

"Of course not," she answered with a chuckle, "if you don't mind going into the kitchen." I didn't.

"Here," she said, pointing to the dining table as we passed it, "is where I do the cutting. And here," she continued, ushering me into the small, well-equipped and well-lighted kitchen, "is where I sew, fuss and fume and do other odds and ends."

Odds and ends? I saw an ironing board, an iron, an electric sewing machine with a pair of savage looking scissors, pins and needles and a thimble on it, but not an odd nor an end.

Mrs. Twibell broke into my thoughts with: "It doesn't take much room for a little job like mine. Any little corner could be used. And the equipment cost is negligible."

I glanced around.

"COME," SHE invited, lifting a small, white, wire frame, "let's go sit in the dining room. You don't mind if I wrap this frame while we talk, do you?"

Reaching into her pocket, she produced a bolt of narrow white, braid, and before she got seated she was twirling it around the frame.

"Before you can construct," she began logically, "you must have materials. These," she said, pointing to the frame, "I buy from a Chicago wholesale house at a cost of from 85 cents to $1.25 each.

"Next comes material procurement. However, many customers bring their material. That helps. On the other hand, many ask me to go to their homes and decide upon it as well as style and color. Also many ask me to purchase.

"Buying is interesting but it's also tiring and also discouraging. I shop and shop, at the same time I look over department store stock for shades. I tab down 'who dunnits,' selling price, any new style details, original arrangements of trim and the like, to file away for future use. I purchase where I can get what I need in color and quality. Needless to say, I consider cost. The materials may be anything—but for my own stock, I purchase taffeta, shantung, crepe, satin and gingham, always keeping in mind the place in which the shade is to be used, the style and color.

"Color, with its infinite variety, subtlety and versatility, is most important. It is the answer to every decoration problem."

"WHAT REALLY sells?" I asked her.

"Eye-appeal, mostly," she answered. "Shades were first made for eye protection, but the average shade is now used for decoration and color takes the lead role.

"Color is changing, however," she told me. "Who, a few years ago would have tolerated a startling green and red combination? Today it is popular and perfect on a brass lamp. In the right spot, of course.

"The intelligent handling of color in the shade-making art, is even more important than good design, material or workmanship. You really need color sense or inherent good taste.

"But the job is only begun when the color is chosen. Just as there are fashions in hats, dresses, jewelry and such, there are fashions in shades. The styles most favored just now are: swirl, puffed petticoat, corded petticoat and tailored. The square and the drum are asked for only occasionally."

At first, all Mrs. Twibell's models were copies. But now she is taking a fling at originality in both style and color. She likes it. "To originate," she said, "I imagine myself in the room in which the shade is to be used, close my eyes and visualize it on the proper lamp, its color blending or contrasting with the surroundings. I am usually pleased with the outcome, and so are my customers."

MRS. TWIBELL'S limber fingers had wrapped one frame and were on the last lap of the second. "Assuming that the design has been chosen and materials assembled, begin by wrapping the frame with cotton tape as I have this one," she explained, exhibiting a finished product. "Be sure the joints are wrapped smoothly so you won't run into trouble fitting lining and covering.

"To cut the pattern, lay a piece of old muslin on a section of the frame, making sure that the up and down thread is exactly in the center, right to left, of the section. Pin securely to top and bottom of the section, and to the sides. Do not stretch. With a sharp scissors cut around the section's edge, allowing one half inch, or slightly more, for seams. Keep all uniform. Remove from the shade.

"Now lay shade material on a flat surface. Pin the pattern to it, making sure that its center lengthwise thread runs up and down on the material. Cut.

"Baste. That word sounds so simple. But you had better watch your step when you baste these seams. They are bias edges, usually, and oh how they can stretch! The pieces must be accurately placed and firmly held together and seams must be exactly even.

"After basting, stitch. Stitch! Another simple sounding word. But beware. If the stitching is too tight, the seam will pucker when stretched on the frame; if too loose, it will spread. Seams must be exactly on the line.

"Flatten seams and make wrinkle free, but do very little, if any, pressing. Never use a hot iron or dampen goods.

"Stretch to fit outside and lining on the frame and baste. Bind top and bottom by hand.

"The ruffling is cut by measurement; some on the bias, some on the straight of the material. I do the fringing, pinking, plain hemming, facing and binding. For the picot edge, I send the strip to a sewing machine shop to be hemstitched.

"Now that the long strip, is finished, press lightly. The gathering is easy, but the pleating is a pain in the neck. Every pleat must be measured accurately, basted firmly and stitched. Do not press after fulling. You want ruffles fluffy.

"Unless there is another trim, such as flowers, ruffling is the last act. And that is a good thing, because here is where the fingers come in for a nice deep prick occasionally.

"That's all, unless you have to make flowers. They are fun because of the beauty, but oh! so intricate. Of course, this all sounds very easy, but take an 'old timer's' word," she warned, "it's not so easy."

THE NEWS of her start in business, Mrs. Twibell said, had galloped around so fast that a woman from Shawnee, Oklahoma, called just as the first sale shade was being mounted on its perch. A mutual friend, who had seen it a-borning, had told her of it.

At first, sales were mostly to friends, to their friends and to their friends' friends. These women, many wealthy and prominent, have an inner urge for the last word in style as well as good taste and beauty. They are also good advertisers. Their Goldia creations were seen and coveted by others. As a result, the business went gaily on without paid advertising.

However, due to short cuts learned by experience, production is speeding up. Mrs. Twibell is running an advertisement in the local paper. The response has been unbelievable, she said.

Keeping up with the orders was once a tough job, she told me, but due to increasing speed, it's not bad now.

Another problem she has had, was that of educating the public to the sales prices. Many, before shopping around in the better shops, are apt to compare handmade shade prices with those of factory made jobs found in some department stores, furniture stores, and dime stores.

Shades by Goldia range in price from $7.50 for boudoir singles, or $15 per pair, to $35 for large silks and satins. Not bad from the public's side, since those that retail at $35, retail at $65 in the Chicago and eastern shops. They are all close to double. Consequently, once women shop around, they usually return and purchase a "Shade by Goldia."

To the question, "Do you find it monotonous working here alone?" Mrs. Twibell answered: