Jamie Janosz

Photo by the fabulous Jill Obermaier. Milt and I have been slightly obsessed with all things 50s for the past few years. Well, in all honesty, my vintage obsession goes back a bit further. Here, in this article for Christianity Today 's blog Her.meneutics, I share why my love for the past links to my faith. Enjoy!  My rockabilly friends hoard 1950s-era fiberglass lampshades and Formica-topped tables. They drive clunky, chrome-trimmed, gas-guzzling cars that have no seatbelts and sometimes leave them stranded on long trips. The guys sport gabardine suits and greased-back pompadours. The gals carry '50s Lucite purses and wear full-skirted dresses with armfuls of bangles. They swing their dance partners to thumping music played by tattooed upright bass players. Walking into these events, a retro dance or hot rod car show, it feels like traveling back in time. These 21st-century folks live and breathe the culture of the 1950s. Yet again, in our seemingly endless cycles...

    Lately, I've been living vicariously through one of my college students as she made a springtime trip to Paris. Ahhhhh....to be in Paris, again.   I love that city - I've been obsessed with it since high school French class. My friend, Cathy, and I were so Paris-crazed, that we talked her parents into inviting a foreign-exchange student to live with them. He was French, indeed, but did not live up to our teenage fantasies of the cute Parisian boy. He was averse to showers and a bit of a grouchy loner.   Just after I was married, I finally took a trip to Paris with my husband. We rode the Metro, visited the Notre Dame, and ate croissants in a cafe. Paris was everything I'd imagined and more. It was a bit gritty - a tad decadent - and so, so, so gloriously cool.   We loved the Rodin museum with its enormous front lawn and statue garden. We listened to jazz on a boat docked at the Seine. We ate anchovies on pizza in a dark alley-side cafe. W...

The day after Christmas is one of my least favorite days. There is so much rushing around to prepare for the holidays, that the day after feels so utterly quiet. I almost don't know what to do with myself. Plus, here in the Chicago burbs, it is cloudy without even one spot of sunshine. It is too chilly and windy for a walk - and I'm still feeling bloated from too many butter-dipped Christmas crab legs. So, I've been cleaning. Taking empty boxes and bits of Christmas decor down to the basement. I reorganized my closet a bit to make room for new treasures. Here are a few of my favorite vintage gifts from this Christmas...Thanks to my husband, daughter, mom, sister, and all of those who know my love for retro gems: My mom-in-law Helen treated me to this 1950s satin cocktail dress that I had been watching on etsy . Little gold oriental leaves and a very cool sash at the back. Also on etsy, this 1940s kelly green suit jacket - I feel like I stepped right out of a...

One of my favorite places in the world is a beautiful peninsula in northern Wisconsin called Door County. Her pine trees, rocky shorelines, wooden sailboats, abundant stars, and fresh lake breezes hold a special place in my heart. I have been vacationing in Door County since I was a little girl, and this weekend I returned for our annual visit with my husband and daughter. We also enjoyed spending time with my mom and her husband Bob. One evening, we dined at our favorite Wisconsin spot - Greenwood Supper Club. Greenwood Supper Club opened in 1929.  In its early years, it went by the glamorous name, "The Slipper." The menu tells us that it was rumored that John Dillinger himself would "gas up" at the old pumps before returning home to Chicago. The Slipper had a large dance floor and even showed movies . In the 1930s, the name changed to "Greenwood" for its scenic views of the green, lush wooded setting. Under the ownership of the Ohnesorge...