The September 2016 Archive: A Foundation for Vintage Hair Accessory Collecting

If you dig deep into the September 2016 archives, you will find a post that quietly corrected a widespread misconception: the difference between celluloid and Bakelite. It was not the flashiest article, but it became the most revisited one that month. Readers had been sending in photos of hair slides they believed were Bakelite, only to learn that the marbled effect and the faint camphor smell pointed to celluloid. That single entry saved countless misidentifications and set a standard for the practical, evidence-based approach this blog would carry forward.

What the September 2016 Archive Holds

The archive from early autumn 2016 holds six posts, each focused on a specific category of vintage hair accessories: Edwardian side combs, 1920s bandeau slides, 1930s Bakelite barrettes, and mid-century velvet bows. One post, Edwardian Hair Combs: A Beginner's Guide, walked readers through the typical prong count, the curve of the top, and the telltale signs of hand-carved horn versus pressed composition. Another, The Allure of Celluloid, explained why this early plastic was beloved for its lightness and how to test for it without damaging the piece. These posts are still the most frequently bookmarked by new collectors.

The archive also includes a short but dense guide on cleaning vintage hair accessories without stripping patina. The method recommended a gentle wipe with a soft, dry cloth and, for stubborn grime, a barely dampened cotton bud. No alcohol, no abrasive polishes. That advice, repeated in later years, remains the backbone of our care philosophy. For a broader overview of how these categories and eras fit together, you can explore The Quiet Art of Vintage Hair Accessories: Categories, Eras, and Care, which organises the very same principles that first appeared in those September 2016 entries.

Materials That Defined the Month

September 2016 was dominated by three materials: celluloid, Bakelite, and natural horn. Each was treated with the same respectful curiosity. The Bakelite post, for instance, did not just list colours; it described the specific formaldehyde smell when rubbed (a safe, gentle test) and warned against the common mistake of assuming all dark brown accessories are Bakelite. Horn, meanwhile, was celebrated for its organic grain and the way it warms to the touch. The archive even included a step-by-step on how to tell horn from early plastic using a hot needle test (on an inconspicuous area) – a technique that many readers still reference. If you are interested in a deeper dive into celluloid and Bakelite, the What the November 2018 Archive Contains: Celluloid, Bakelite, and Edwardian Combs expands on those same material studies with additional examples and museum-grade references.

Practical Wisdom from Early Posts

One of the most practical outcomes of the September 2016 archive was a checklist for evaluating a vintage accessory before purchase. It was never published as a standalone list, but it can be reconstructed from the posts:

• Check for cracks – especially at the prongs of combs and the hinge of slides. Celluloid can develop fine hairline cracks that worsen over time.
• Sniff test – a faint camphor or formaldehyde scent indicates early plastic; a neutral or slightly earthy smell suggests horn or bone.
• Examine the surface – genuine Bakelite has a deep, almost liquid gloss that never feels sticky; celluloid can become tacky if degraded.
• Test flexibility – horn bends slightly under gentle pressure; Bakelite and celluloid are more rigid.
• Look for maker’s marks – many Edwardian combs have tiny stamps on the back, often indicating the town of manufacture (e.g., “Leeds” or “Birmingham”).

These five checks have saved collectors from buying damaged or misrepresented pieces. They appear in various forms across later articles, but the seed was planted in that September archive.

The Quiet Legacy of a Foundational Month

What makes the September 2016 archive special is not the volume of content but the care with which each piece was written. The author at that time was still finding their voice, yet the posts already refused to romanticise the past. They acknowledged that many vintage accessories were mass-produced, that not every comb was a masterpiece, and that condition matters more than age. One post even admitted that a 1950s tortoiseshell-effect celluloid slide, though not rare, could be more wearable and durable than a fragile Edwardian original. That honest, nuanced perspective has guided every subsequent article.

For readers who want to see how these early lessons evolved, the September 2016 archive is a touchstone. It shows the blog before it grew into a larger community, when each post was a quiet conversation between a collector and a handful of subscribers. The care instructions, the material tests, the respectful handling of historical context – all of it began here. And if you ever wonder why we still recommend a dry cloth over chemical cleaners, or why we insist on sniffing before buying, you need only revisit those September entries. They are the bedrock.

One final detail from that month: a post about a single Edwardian comb made of pressed horn, decorated with a hand-painted floral motif. The comb had no maker’s mark, no provenance, and a small chip on the third prong. Yet the post argued that its imperfections made it a better companion for a modern outfit – a quiet rebellion against the pursuit of perfection. That comb, chipped and unmarked, became the symbol of the blog’s ethos: beauty in the flawed, the practical, the worn. It is still the most beloved image in the archive.