Don't be so scared of changing and rearranging yourself

This weekend has been one of throwing up my hands, rolling my eyes, and muttering darkly about best laid plans...

It started well, with a gorgeous meal and good company at Zeugma's Turkish restaurant on Friday night, but I forgot to take photos.

And I enjoyed my trip to the hairdresser's on Saturday morning, but forgot the card and gift I had bought for Kirsty, who is about to go on maternity leave. (I'll have to pop in with it next week.)

I didn't go to St Mary's vintage fair, as it's actually happening next weekend.

I'm blaming this bloody peri-menopause for my increasingly frequent memory failures. 

And we didn't watch Life of Brian on Saturday night as arranged, since Eldest got an invite to sleep over at a friend's, and forbade us to watch it without her. Bossy madam, don't know where she gets it from.

I was looking a bit creased and crumpled by the time I got home on Saturday, but at least my hair was freshly be-Titianed and bright.

1960s mini dress - Second to None
Tights - charity shopped
Boots - Clarks' sale


But oh these are difficult weather conditions for a blogger...

...gloomy, windy and raining one minute; followed by bright sun; then blowing a gale.

And you thought I was joking about throwing up my hands in frustration!

I went for the 1960s dolly bird look again today, although the only piece of authentic 60s charm in this outfit is the handbag.
And me, of course, I'm vintage 1964.

Tunic dress, necklace and bangles - charity shopped
Kiss Me Kitty leggings - gift from Cristi
Boots - retail (sale, ancient)
Beret - gift
1960s vinyl bag - Ebay


I don't know if I'm loving the shorter length on me; I want to like it, and will defend to the death a woman's right to wear any length of dress she damn well pleases. And it's good to change and rearrange, I don't want to wear maxis or cover my knees all the time.

In my imagination, I am a carefree 60s chick, swinging down the street so fancy-free, all mile-long legs and bobbed hair.

In reality, I feel a bit more like Georgy in the book and 1966 film Georgy Girl, trying hard but not quite getting it right.

I loved the theme song so much when I was a kid (still do) that I named one of my dolls Georgy.

When I got round to watching the film later in life, I identified with the character of Georgy, played by lovely Lynn Redgrave, all clumsy awkwardness, not fitting in or measuring up.

Not many women could measure up to the gorgeousness of Charlotte Rampling as Meredith.

 

I recommend the film if you haven't seen it.

So the weekend's schedule might not have turned out quite as intended, the outfits might be dodgy, the photos dodgier still, and the weather's been a bugger, but that's life, no? I am hereby reserving the right to get it a bit wrong, to laugh, and then get on with it.

And comments on my blog like this one just make me snort with laughter:

Alan Abraham said...For more information on Facelift Surgery Delhi, please visit http://www.skindelhi.com/facelift.html

Thanks but no thanks, Alan, but how kind of you to drop by!

I'll be linking up one of these thigh-flashing looks with Patti and friends for Visible Monday; nothing like some clashing prints and a mini for high visibility!

Do watch this clip of the film's opening sequence, it's charming and funny, and you have my permission to sing along if you like!

xxxx

I want to be good, is that not enough?

It's been a busy weekend, but a good one.

Judging by the outfit, you would be forgiven for thinking I've been auditioning for Principal Boy in Jack and the Beanstalk.

Well, we are approaching panto season, after all.

The big highlight was going to see Squeeze last night.

There was a big crowd of 40 and 50-somethings, all of whom sang along and knew every word to all the old favourites (and yes, Vix, of course they played Up the Junction!)

The songs they released from 1978 to 1982 are full of such memories of my teenage years, I played the East Side Story album to death.


Might have had a teeny crush on Glenn Tillbrook too...

It looks worryingly like I have forgotten to put anything on under my coat... how unseemly!

But I'm not even going to ask if this mini dress is too short for me. It's too late now anyway, I wore it out to see the band, and I didn't notice anyone laughing.

Check out my new woolly beanie - it's from Vix!

The postman is working on Sundays now, in readiness for the Christmas rush, and it felt a little as though Christmas had come early when a parcel of deliciousness from Vix was delivered on Sunday morning!

A super-groovy 1960s dress, which Vix had pimped up with extra bling-y braid, a beanie, a gorgeous little fur collar hand made with love by Vix herself, a quilted waistcoat, and Linda Grant's book The Thoughtful Dresser, which I have been meaning to read for ages but never quite got round to it.

Oh and some nail varnishes too, which are awaiting a little clean-up operation after a lid came loose... Vix had the presence of mind to send them in a plastic bag, so the damage was limited!

Thank you, Vix, I love my gifts. 

Mini/tunic dress, Doreen Shuttleworth, beaded pendant, bangles and leather bag - charity shopped

Suede jerkin - gift from Lucy

Leggings - jumble sale

Boots - retail 

See, I told you that jerkin is never off my back - I'm a bit obsessed with it!

Apologies to those of you who are unfamiliar with Squeeze, because you are;

a) too young;

 b) too cool;

 or c) live in a country where the band's quintessentially British observations of life and relationships achieved no airplay or success!

Here they are in their youthful 1978 days, and a more recent version of Goodbye Girl, which might just be my favourite Squeeze song. 

Oh the memories..
 














Linking up over at Patti's, check those lovely ladies out!


 xxxx

Step in, step out of the rain

Non-UK residents are probably heartily sick of British bloggers moaning about the weather.

I'm sick of moaning about it too, I'm boring myself.

But it's so crap!

Still, in my attempt to adopt a glass-half-full, look at me, I'm positively reframing philosophy, I will say that the low temperature and rain gave me the perfect excuse to wear my new boots.

 (I so want to say new boots and panties, but the undies aren't new at all. You probably don't really want to know that, do you?)

This little dress isn't old, the label's been cut out but I expect it's from some high street shop I'd turn my nose up at! I bought it in a charity shop for £3, drawn to it by the funky 1960s-inspired print and the colours.

 I knew it was short - I just didn't realise it was quite this short...

... but I have decided I can get away with it, so there.

I don't need to hide behind my umbrella...

See?

tunic dress, bangles and umbrella - charity shops
leggings and hat - Ebay
boots - Second to None vintage shop (Walsall)
ring and necklaces - flea market

I had a little look at the traffic sources stats for my blog this evening. Being featured on our darling Vix's blog has sent a ton of folk my way, she is such a popular blogger!

Other searches which have ended up misdirecting some poor fools to my blog are; 

mom's leather punishment belt
priapic boy
exhibitionist wife
porn punk pussy pitchure*

* Any poor spelling is nothing to do with me. 

Well, my belts are all purely decorative; the only reference I have ever made to anything priapic was describing some flowers in the garden; I am neither exhibitionist nor anyone's wife; and the only pussies I have shown the world are tabby or black and white...

... so I fear I am a disappointment to some "readers".

Yeah - no porn, no punishment, and only boring pitchures of cats!

Hopefully you find something you like here!

I so appreciate my regular followers, and all your lovely comments. My reasons for blogging are all about that wonderful sense of friendship, community, and the relationships that can be built with other bloggers along the way.

Thank you.

xxx

I want to tell you all a story 'bout a Harper Valley widowed wife...

I went to a meeting last week of my kids' school's Friends group - not strictly a PTA since there are no teachers involved, but as near as makes no difference.

Other Half disparagingly calls us Do Gooders, or the Moral Mothers of Meersbrook (the area of Sheffield where we live. There are a couple of dads involved too.)

It's a small group of parents who organise events to raise additional funds for school, and I have recently felt that I should show willing and get involved. This was a decision I began to regret, as the tortuous process of decision-making by committee ground on...

The obvious point to note is that, apart from the fact that we have all spawned/adopted kids, we have nothing else in common, and wildly differing ideas of what needs to be done, and how.

Let me run a couple of "issues" by you good people.

Should the treat from Santa at the Christmas Fair be;
a) chocolate coins (cheap, buy it in bulk on sale or return, OK for most though admittedly not every child)
b) a book of poetry?
The Collected Works of Ezra Pound for my 4 year old? Why, thank you, Santa!

We intend to ask parents to put the £2 for their child's Christmas disco ticket in an envelope with said child's name and class on the front. Is this;
a) a basic and reasonable request, achievable by most?
b) an complex task demonstrating middle-class bias by assuming all households have envelopes?

I kid you not.

So while I slowly lost not only the will to be involved, but to live, I amused myself by singing "Harper Valley PTA" in my head. I have loved this 1968 country classic by Jeannie C. Riley since I was a kid, though back then, I hadn't a clue what the lyrics were about.

For those unfamiliar with the song, it tells the story of a teenage daughter coming home from school with a letter summoning her cool young mini-skirted single mum to attend the PTA meeting, because they disapprove of her fast'n'loose ways -"It's been reported you've been drinking and a-running round with men, and going wild."

Mum attends the meeting, and socks it to them by pointing out that they are no better behaved than her - one's knocked up his secretary, several are drinkers, one's the local exhibitionist, one keeps harrassing her for a date.

So, I mused to myself, looking around the assembled Do Gooders - who's the secret drinker?
Who's having an affair?
Who wants to get it on with whom?
Who's the exhibitionist? (Err, that would be me.)

1960s mini dress (vintage fair, £8), 1970s scarf (flea market, £1), Jones lace-up boots (Ebay), hoop earrings (charity shop, 99p), wig (can't remember how much, but cheap, from Ebay). Pissing about instead of doing the housework - priceless.


Well, this is just a little Peyton Place, and you're all Harper Valley hypocrites.



Sing it, Jeannie!