Harlequin Dreams

I posted last week that I have 'inherited' my mother's mother's Harlequin dishes.

Every Saturday my family heads to a local diner for breakfast. For years I joined them, but when I got married it was kind of a long drive, so Freddy and I make quarterly appearances. Topics of conversation include anything from politics to Jesus to medications to things that hang out in the basement.

Hence when the dishes were casually mentioned by my mother. "We have those fake Fiesta dishes from my mother downstairs. I never liked them." Whhhaaaaa??? We have faux-Fiesta? Like for realsies? Oh and they are turquoise and rose? And they've been in a box in the home I grew up in for oh, 26 years?? You have to be kidding me, Mom.

And when we went home there they were, wrapped in newspaper from 1985. 

I've had a little Fiesta obsession for a few months now. I'd go on Kohls.com and check out how much it would cost to get a turquoise collection of dishes. 

The answer was too much. Especially since I have three sets of nearly new Corelle. I just couldn't justify buying more dishes even if I loved them.


I had stopped dreaming of stocking my cabinets with multicolored goodness. And that's when these beatus entered my life.

They were scrubbed and rescrubbed. 

We thought they were worthless, but learned they actually are collectable (The yellow dish is authentic Fiesta).

They were made by the same designer as Fiesta Pottery and were likely made in the 40s or 50s. You can learn more about Harlequin Pottery here. 

My mother was hysterical laughing as I read the values of some of the items to her. She promptly called her sister who actually bought them and neither could believe they were worth something or that I would even want them. 

And that the teapot is legit valuable because it's in mint condition. And thus it will live among the collection of special treasures above the cabinets.

And so, something unexpectedly wonderful from my grandmother is enjoying a new home, being used and loved the way they should be.