After all that dazzling colour last week, things have calmed down a bit.
Ahh, restful shades of green and blue, lovely.
Look, there's that same silhouette thing going on again.
Not only do I get in a colour groove, I do the same with styles.
Knee-length 1970s frock with a print?
Jacket? Boots? Vintage bag?
Don't mind if I do.
1970s dress - vintage kilo sale
Cardigan, beret, tights and bangles - charity shopped
1960s vinyl shopper - Ebay
Boots - retail (sale)
1950s tweed jacket, 1970s dress, belt, bangles and tights - charity shopped
1950-60s tapestry bag - vintage shop
Ankle boots - Ebay
I had my first experience of a vintage kilo sale at the weekend. I've seen them advertised in other cities, so when I saw that Sheffield was hosting one, I thought I would check it out, more in hope than expectation.
It wasn't huge, but it was pretty busy with plenty of young hipsters checking out the knitwear, shirts and coats. That left me with a reasonably clear run at the dresses, though there weren't that many, and the vast array of skirts.
Since there was only one changing cubicle and a long queue, I found a quiet-ish corner, dumped my finds on the floor, took off my coat to try on a jacket, and stepped a couple of feet to one side to look in a mirror. A young woman immediately swooped on my pile, including my coat and bag, and when I mildly pointed out that they belonged to me, she shrugged, didn't apologise, and said I thought you'd gone.
Oddly rude, I thought.
The 1970s green/blue print dress I'm wearing above,
a 1970s chiffon maxi dress,
a suede waistcoat,
and oh my goodness, a 1970s Lanvin maxi skirt!
I'm no label whore, but I was a bit excited about that last one. Actually, on closer inspection, I'm not convinced it's genuine. Or at least I wonder if the skirt might have been altered, cut down from a dress, and the label reattached. Anyway, it doesn't much matter; look at the fabulous print!
The cost worked out at just over £4 per item.
Not quite as bargainacious as Baklash's fill-a bag for £10 sale, but not bad.
So the kids are back at school, and I am back in the term-time groove.
I laughed uproariously while I was volunteering this morning, when a little girl asked me if I was another child's granny. No point being offended; I'm of an age when I certainly could be a grandmother, had I not left my child-bearing till later in life. Typical of me, always leaving things till the last minute.
Thanks for all your comments on my Travelling Yellow Skirt post.
I'm glad some of you have correctly identified that the sun does indeed shine out of my arse.
The skirt will be continuing her adventures, with a fitting embellishment added to the rear.
If she ends up with you, then the sun can shine out of your behind too.
And if the people stare, then the people stare.
I really don't know and I really don't care.
Doesn't that seem a fitting motto for the Yellow Skirt, and indeed for life?