Early 20th century optometrist’s trade sign, double-sided and built around luminous milk glass panels—it features a single, unblinking eye at its center, encircled by bold lettering that reads “Dr. G.R. Fish Optometrist.”
The milk glass has that beautiful, softly diffused glow that only this material can deliver. When lit, the eye comes alive, the iris deepening, the sclera showing its delicate crackle, the lashes rendered in fine, deliberate strokes. Even unlit, the surface holds a gentle warmth, with subtle age lines and minor imperfections that speak to decades of service rather than storage.
The sign is housed in its original metal can with a rich, darkened patina, and retains its bracket, complete with decorative iron scrollwork and mounting arm. That bracket is not just functional, it is part of the silhouette. It gives the piece presence. From the side, it reads like a proper piece of street architecture. From the front, it is pure graphic punch.
Early 20th century optometrist’s trade sign, double-sided and built around luminous milk glass panels—it features a single, unblinking eye at its center, encircled by bold lettering that reads “Dr. G.R. Fish Optometrist.”
The milk glass has that beautiful, softly diffused glow that only this material can deliver. When lit, the eye comes alive, the iris deepening, the sclera showing its delicate crackle, the lashes rendered in fine, deliberate strokes. Even unlit, the surface holds a gentle warmth, with subtle age lines and minor imperfections that speak to decades of service rather than storage.
The sign is housed in its original metal can with a rich, darkened patina, and retains its bracket, complete with decorative iron scrollwork and mounting arm. That bracket is not just functional, it is part of the silhouette. It gives the piece presence. From the side, it reads like a proper piece of street architecture. From the front, it is pure graphic punch.
