Showing posts with label 1978. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1978. Show all posts

Friday, 3 October 2014

Practically perfect


A busy week has come and gone.

I can tick off another solid week of Ebay sales, parents' evenings for two out of three kids, a night out with friends in the pub, and my yearly blood tests (the fasting kind - never does a cup of tea taste as good as the one I can finally enjoy after those bloods are safely in the vacutainers.)

Oh, and an interview to be a volunteer in a charity shop, but I'll tell you about that when I start. 


Looking blue, but not feeling it at all.


I was having a small tidy up around the house (a rare occurrence), and chuckling to myself at the state of my very disordered and not-at-all blogworthy home, in comparison with the oh-so-stylish and beautifully presented houses of many bloggers I know. 

I don't really have the art of display; my treasured objects are just slung on shelves, gathering dust as often as not, and the rest of the family don't even notice them.

But shall I show you a few of the bits and bobs around the place?



That's my old teddy bear giving you the side-eye. She (yes, she) is called Sally, she's about the same age as me, and she and the cat collection, the OBDs, and Mary Poppins and her giant bottle all jostle for space on the crammed bookshelves. 

Em gave me the tall and elegant blue cat on the right; my mate Jo gave me Mary Poppins, because she says Mary reminds her of me. Practically perfect in every way, obviously. Or maybe it's because the Mary of  P. L. Travers' books is rather strict and waspish... 
(I think Mary keeps her rum punch in that bottle.)



This 1950s piggy bank has somehow ended up with me; I used it as a child, but it's older than me, it must have belonged to my eldest sister originally.

It has no opening underneath, so to retrieve your pennies, you either have to break it, or hold it upside down, insert a knife in the slit on the top and jiggle it about in the hopes that a coin or two will fall out. 

Does anyone else remember doing that as a kid?


Another childhood treasure - look, you can see I wrote my name on it (Curtis - no "e").

It was a gift from my aunt and uncle, and the wooden box and cubes have a very particular smell; just opening it up transports me back in time to the 1960s. Olfactory memories are the most powerful and evocative, I find.


I adored those illustrations as a child, and still do.

Beate, they make me think of you and your gorgeous home.
 
That's my Uncle Robin and Auntie Leni on the left, who gave me the Goldilocks picture cubes. Leni (Helen) was German, I wonder if that's why she was drawn to those pictures? My uncle called her Lenchen, she was very stylish. 

There's my Grandma and Grandad on the right, and my cousin Charles, middle sister Sabena, and me.
It was 1966, and we were at a cousin's wedding. 
 
Same year - me (aged 2), Sabena (6) and Belinda (11). Sab's flashing her boobs, and Belinda's unimpressed. And there's my dad lurking in the background. Families, eh...


Although I don't really think of myself as a collector (hmm, a wardrobe bursting with vintage dresses might tell a different story), perhaps this shelf of pomanders is starting to resemble a collection!

Fiona kindly gave me the one shaped like a birdcage after I admired it on her blog, and Claudia gave me the small pink one in the middle.


Jacket, t-shirt, sandals, belt, sunglasses and bangles - charity shopped
1970s Debroyal maxi skirt - vintage fair
Miracle pendant - car boot


This weekend will be a quiet one, I think, although we are out for tea tonight as a Friday treat.

And the sun is still shining, we're having a beautiful autumn, so like Baby Bear's porridge, chair and bed, everything feels just right!

Have a great weekend, folks.

Linking to Patti's Visible Monday gathering as usual. 
xxxx


Sunday, 27 April 2014

All sewn up


It took a while; I've been threatening (but failing) to do it for ages, so I am delighted to reveal my new self-sewn dress.

  At last!



 The pattern...

 

...is from 1978.

Which is probably the last time I made anything from a pattern.

We learned how to make a skirt at school, and I made a few, but never progressed to anything else. We also had to make an apron, which we then used in cookery lessons.

My Domestic Science teacher, Miss Griffiths, was terrifying, and frequently rolled her eyes at my poor efforts (although not as much as the even more alarming Miss Williams, the PE teacher.)



So here you go, Miss Griffiths - this piece of Sheet Chic is for you!

(Alas, Miss Williams' derision put me off sport for life, and not even 35 more years will rectify that.)




The proper sewists amongst you would probably pull a face similar to Miss G, circa 1977, if you took a closer look, but hey, it's a first attempt. I've never done facings or darts before, it took two attempts to put the zip in correctly, and I had to take the bodice in for a better fit.

I find the technicalities tricky, I am not neat or skilled, and I clearly have difficulties with curves and ease.

But I made myself go slowly, press as I went along, follow the instructions and not wing it, and leave it till the next day when I felt myself getting frustrated at my mistakes.

And I really did enjoy the process.



Dress - made it myself (I can't tell you how proud I am to be able to say that!)
Cardigan, bangles, flower and necklace - charity shopped
1960s shopper - vintage fair
Sandals - Ebay 


It's entirely possible that this dressmaking malarkey might become addictive; as soon as I had finished, I wanted to start another project. 

So I did.



1960s pattern - a gift from Vix.



 Cats. 
Always so helpful.




We'll see how this one goes. 



Spring in outfit form, I think.

Nina and I popped to the local vintage market after her swimming lesson today; the bribe of a piece of cake helped maintain compliance.

I'm almost as skilled at parenting as I am at sewing.


 My only purchase was a 1970s maxi dress, £5. 
But I enjoyed browsing.



 Smug? You betcha!

Hope everyone has had a great weekend.

xxx