Matchmaking

“I have taken the responsibility to find Dad and Grandpa a good woman! They are tired of minding the kids and they are so lonely. Dad stays in his upstairs room, dressed in his good brown felt suit, staring out into space. He never smiles. “The two gentlemen keep the kitchen clean and put the pots and pans away in their cute German cupboard. The children, of course are happy. The one-year old has a new bed and the baby is in his bassinet. The 2-year old has a quilt of blue and white blocks. The 6-year-old hangs out with Grandpa a lot. The children have toys galore! But a stepmother and step-grandmother would be nice. Someone who would tuck them in at night. Someone who would bake cookies’every day. And someone who would make Dad and Grandpa smile.” Although the story of Dad and Grandpa is fiction, it’s based on a real dollhouse, its occupants and their make-believe life. The tale was written by Marilyn Crawford, the administrative assistant at the Pacific Palisades Chamber of Commerce. Crawford’s interest in collecting started thirty years ago with German closed-mouth bisque dolls circa 1850-1870s. After collecting the larger dolls for 12 years, she started selling them. “My taste began to change,” Crawford said. Eventually all the dolls found new homes and Crawford began collecting the tiniest dolls, their furniture and belongings. The men and children that Crawford refers to in her story are actually miniature dolls living in a dollhouse called Grey Manor, a two-story wooden structure two feet high by three feet wide. The entry doors are white with gold knobs and open on half-inch hinges. The doll house was built for Crawford 10 years ago by Dino Paganelli. He was in his garage building a rocking horse, and there was a dollhouse behind him, when she went by on one of her daily walks near the Westside Pavilion. She stopped and spoke with him, a scenario that was repeated many times over the next few months. “I never had a dollhouse when I was a child,” Crawford said, “and I wanted one so badly.” Eventually, Crawford asked him if he would build her one. “I’ve got a two-year waiting list and I’m 87,” Paganelli told her. “God is not going to take you until you build my dollhouse,” Crawford replied. Paganelli moved Crawford to the top of his list and started on her house about three months later. The construction process took about three months. He hand-cut and installed medium brown hardwood floors throughout the house, and constructed a simulated red brick chimney: each charcoal gray shingle was cut individually. The detail inside each room is amazing: a winding wooden staircase with a round window at the top’with individual panes of glass and French doors. Dollhouses such as Crawford’s are often exact replicas of houses of their time period, some of them so elaborate that they even have running water, although hers does not. In addition to the interior and exterior structure, collectors like Crawford pay a great deal of attention to the furnishings, which are either antique collectibles or replicas. For example, an inch-tall gold and green hurricane replica table lamp can be found for $18.25, a two-inch chandelier with three white lights and frosted globes is $40’and it goes without saying that both lights work. A year ago, she acquired a miniature toy store from 1917 sold by F.A.O. Schwarz. Some of the toys inside the shop were personally purchased by a dealer from Barbara and Elizabeth Mott, whose collection was exhibited at Knott’s Berry Farm in Buena Park from the 1950s to 1992. Currently, Crawford’s “store” is only about half-full of antique toys from the ’20s, ’30s and ’40s. She’s searching for more. The tiny planes on the wall are approximately a half-inch. The glass front door that opens has a tiny shade in the window complete with an itty-bitty pull. In addition to Gray Manor and her Toy Store, Crawford also has a miniature church which was built in Detroit in 1933. It is complete with stained glass windows, and doors that open. The roof comes off, so that one can see the tiny pews and the altar inside. Crawford found a yellowing card from the builder inside: “CR Gehle, Repair and refinish furniture; living room suites a specialty.” She has been told that it’s an exact replica of a church in Detroit. The fourth miniature building she owns is a red-roofed 1913 Gottschalk cottage house. The Moritz Gottschalk company of Germany was the premiere dollhouse maker during the late 19th and early 20th century, and their houses were characterized by exquisite craftsmanship. The cottage has flowers and flowerpots on the exterior of the porch with a watering pot all to scale. Since an original three-and-a-half-inch doll can run anywhere from $350 to $700, these dolls that were once a child’s playthings are no longer for children. “You have to be old or look old to get in my house,” Crawford says with a laugh. Has she found suitable mates for Grandpa and Dad? According to her story, “The quest for a good woman, one for Dad and one for Grandpa, began about two years ago. I searched and searched for that ‘special’ woman. They were either too plain, too fat, too old, or too blah! It was in Glendale I first laid eyes on her. She was just standing there looking out with her beautiful brown glassy eyes, white porcelain skin and rosy cheeks. Her outfit was a burgundy velvet long dress with a slight train in the back. She is so beautiful! This is the one for Grandpa! Alas, when I brought her home I knew she wasn’t for Grandpa. He was too short’too old’and’too small-boned! You guessed it; Dad got her! They are courting now, and Dad is always smiling and seems to be in a good mood, most of the time.” Grandpa’s sweetheart arrived shortly thereafter. “She is a slender lady dressed in dark green satin with black lace running down the front of her dress and covering her skirt. This lady is originally from Germany, but was found in Glendale, California.” Crawford isn’t ready to relax and enjoy the “happy” family she’s put together. “What I’m searching for now is another doll house, Victorian from the 1800’s in good shape and I’ll finish it with furnishings and occupants.” Crawford was born in Santa Monica and grew up in Venice. After graduating from Venice High, she married and took her first job at the Bank of America in Santa Monica. Since then she’s worked with the Locksley Group, the Wellness Community in Santa Monica, for the past six years, she’s been in the Palisades at the Chamber of Commerce. She has two daughters, Stacey and Lynne, and nine grandchildren. Both daughters are collectors: Lynne collects composite dolls from the 30’s and Stacey collects cookbooks from the 1900s through the 1950s. And are her grandchildren allowed in her house since they are neither old nor look old? “Of course’but they aren’t allowed to touch. They look at the individual pieces and point,” Crawford says, “Someday it will be theirs.”