Elf Collection | Pristine Condition | Designed by Robert Simpich
Livingston has decided there's something in that hill, and he is going to go find out.
He's kitted out for it. The pickaxe is under his arm — real metal, forged-looking, dark and pitted across the head, set on a wooden handle through a rivet that's gone honestly rusty with age. It has weight to it. Whatever else the shop was willing to suggest with paint, they were not willing to fake a tool.
His hat is the second thing you see: wide black felt with the brim swept up on one side, a tan suede band around the crown, and a small brass stud pinning two spotted guinea feathers upright. Real feathers, not sculpted ones. Most of the elves make do with a hat; Livingston has an outfit.
Then the glasses — round wire spectacles, bent from actual wire, perched on that nose in front of eyes that are wide open and looking straight up at you. His mouth is a small round O. He isn't laughing. He's just seen something.
His face is built around the mustache, which is the most theatrical piece of sculpting in the group: white, enormous, flaring out to both sides past his cheeks in curling lobes, with the beard breaking into more of the same underneath and his hair curling out from under the hat brim.
He wears a cream suede tunic, sleeves gathered full at the shoulder, hem cut in deep points, with a fine hand-stitched seam running up the side in matching thread — worked where almost nobody looks. Under it, navy suede leggings and navy mitts. Over it, a tartan in navy, green and red with a yellow overcheck, fringed and wrapped once at the throat.
And the boots. This is the detail I'd put money on nobody else telling you. Most of the elves share a shoe — the same sculpted clog turns up on figure after figure. Livingston doesn't get the standard shoe. He gets his own: tall, heavy, cuffed at the top with a soft fold, and finished with a curled point at the toe that turns up like something out of a storybook. Someone decided this character needed footwear for climbing rock, and then made it funny. That's Bob choosing to do the harder thing for one figure.
Livingston was designed by my grandfather Robert "Bob" Simpich.
Cast from Bob's design, then hand-painted and dressed in hand-sewn clothing in the Simpich doll shop.
Elf Collection | Pristine Condition | Designed by Robert Simpich
Livingston has decided there's something in that hill, and he is going to go find out.
He's kitted out for it. The pickaxe is under his arm — real metal, forged-looking, dark and pitted across the head, set on a wooden handle through a rivet that's gone honestly rusty with age. It has weight to it. Whatever else the shop was willing to suggest with paint, they were not willing to fake a tool.
His hat is the second thing you see: wide black felt with the brim swept up on one side, a tan suede band around the crown, and a small brass stud pinning two spotted guinea feathers upright. Real feathers, not sculpted ones. Most of the elves make do with a hat; Livingston has an outfit.
Then the glasses — round wire spectacles, bent from actual wire, perched on that nose in front of eyes that are wide open and looking straight up at you. His mouth is a small round O. He isn't laughing. He's just seen something.
His face is built around the mustache, which is the most theatrical piece of sculpting in the group: white, enormous, flaring out to both sides past his cheeks in curling lobes, with the beard breaking into more of the same underneath and his hair curling out from under the hat brim.
He wears a cream suede tunic, sleeves gathered full at the shoulder, hem cut in deep points, with a fine hand-stitched seam running up the side in matching thread — worked where almost nobody looks. Under it, navy suede leggings and navy mitts. Over it, a tartan in navy, green and red with a yellow overcheck, fringed and wrapped once at the throat.
And the boots. This is the detail I'd put money on nobody else telling you. Most of the elves share a shoe — the same sculpted clog turns up on figure after figure. Livingston doesn't get the standard shoe. He gets his own: tall, heavy, cuffed at the top with a soft fold, and finished with a curled point at the toe that turns up like something out of a storybook. Someone decided this character needed footwear for climbing rock, and then made it funny. That's Bob choosing to do the harder thing for one figure.
Livingston was designed by my grandfather Robert "Bob" Simpich.
Cast from Bob's design, then hand-painted and dressed in hand-sewn clothing in the Simpich doll shop.
