Autumn in a frock

I bought this autumnal dress a year ago and fully intended to shorten it...

but a combination of laziness and shortage of time means it's still exactly the same length as when I first wore it...

Oh well - it's fine as it is.

1970s English Lady brushed nylon dress - local vintage market

Boots - Ebay

1960-70s pendant - gift from Vix

 We're back into the routine of work and school this week. 

I am still waiting to hear when my new job will start; the shop fitters are in but a manager has yet to be recruited, so I'm carrying on in my current post, but feeling slightly in limbo.

One of the challenges of the vintage shop will be making sure we have appropriate stock in sufficient quantity. As donations come in to the other 12 shops run by the charity, the expectation is that the staff and volunteers will put aside anything "vintage" to pass on. I think they might need some support to identify the right pieces, an issue which the organisation also recognise.

So here's a question for you; if you were a volunteer sorting through stacks of donations in a charity shop, what would you need to know in order to have a hope of picking out potential vintage stock? Most of the shops get a lot of donations; which is great, but it means they are dealt with quickly, and having to consult lists or look things up will slow down the sorting process. Any information I circulate will therefore have to be pithy and easy to recall and act upon, in addition to which I'm well aware that not everyone is as interested in that old shit (and I quote a shop manager) as I am.

So, here's my question; if you had to give some short sharp pointers for identifying vintage donations (including clothing, accessories, jewellery, homewares, kitchenalia, linens and fabrics, pictures, etc - it's so hard to make an exhaustive list), what would you say?

I have lots of ideas myself, but it would be useful to get some different perspectives.

 So while you mull that over (or alternatively, while you think bugger off and do your own homework, you lazy arse), here are a couple of recent vintage purchases I would gladly have in my shop;

a 1970s "Tara" design Taunton Vale storage jar, and a floral still life print of indeterminate heritage. Both cheap as chips, and both from charity shops.

And look what lovely Lynn sent me to wish me luck in my new job - my very own vintage angel!

Do you think she looks a bit like me?

And speaking of look-a-likes;

doesn't the stalk on top of the pumpkin we grew in the garden look rather like Baby Groot from Guardians of the Galaxy?    
             
  

 We thought so!

I might just be dancing myself later; I'm off to see ABC. 

Can't wait!

xxx

Oops, I did it again

My name's Curtise... 

and I have a faux fur addiction.

See?

 

 

When I spotted this 1970s St Michael fake fur jacket in a charity shop, my first thought was ooh, I don't have one that colour, quickly followed by a glance at the price tag, a try on, and a brisk walk to the till.

 

(In my defense, I've just sold one I rarely wore, which clearly created a vacuum. And I intend to sell the mid-length black coat, once I've repaired the lining. Do I protest too much?)

 

 

 

This is the 1970s shirtwaister from my charity shop haul last week.

I'm hoping I remind dear Beate of her chic Granny.

 

And this dress caught my eye at Sunday's local vintage market. 

 

Of course it did.

It's good to see the Abbeydale Picture House being used; the event was bigger and busier than last year. 

 

Look what Nina persuaded me to buy. An aged one-eared donkey. 

 

She felt sorry for him, and to tell the truth, so did I. Honestly, this will ruin my hard-faced reputation; don't tell anyone. 

 

 

1970s Jersey Masters dress - charity shopped

1980s boots - Second to None, Walsall 

 

That print and the lovely buttons are clearly Art Deco-inspired, which is so typical of much early/mid 1970s fashion.

1970s English Lady dress - vintage market

Boots - retail

1950s carpet bag and 1960s copper leaf brooch - flea market

Bangles and 1970s stainless steel pendant - charity shopped (although I think Vix might have given me the black and gold bangle... Oh no, I can't remember!)

Leather gloves - retail (sale)

 

I love all the textures and warm colours; the dress is a fuzzy brushed nylon, it's like wearing a 1970s highly flammable blanket.

Do you think I should shorten it? I'm thinking I will. If I get round to it...

 

What's next? 

 

Charity shop day tomorrow (thank you for all your thoughtful comments on my last post), celebrating my mate Sue's birthday with a curry and a quiz, a PTA meeting, my usual stint in school, finishing off the Christmas shopping and knuckling down to writing the cards. 

Steady on, I almost sound organised! 

 

xxx

Fifteen minutes

Hmmm.

There's always something to ponder in life, isn't there?

Not necessarily the Big Questions; just silly, farty, devil's-in-the-detail sort of stuff. Logistics, finances, time, people, they all take some sorting out...

As always, the best response to such nonsense is to wear some brightly coloured bit of vintage finery, to chase the cobwebs and befuddlement away.

1970s English Lady maxi dress - flea market

Faux fur coat - vintage fair

Cardigan, hat and bangles - charity shopped

Gloves and flower - retail (sale)

1980s boots - Second to None

Scarf - gift

One of the many questions under consideration at the moment is homework. More specifically, that of the Seldom Seen Kid.

We have Learning Log Issues.

I have a well-nigh pathological dislike of parents who do their kid's homework for them.

You might know the ones; they take over as though it was their own task, and produce fabulous work on their child's behalf, to the astonishment/irritation/amusement* of onlooking teachers and slacker parents like me who prefer to let their children live or die by their own efforts. (*Delete as appropriate, or feel free to add your own reaction.)

 As my children have moved through school, I have consistently struggled with deciding where the boundary lies between offering them support and encouragement, and taking over so that the work is no longer their own.

We had decided on a Back Right Off policy for Seldom Seen. He's 10, he knows what is expected of him, and I thought he could manage to take some responsibility for his own learning.

It appears I was wrong, and this approach has failed, rather spectacularly.

So in an alarming volte face which has me stifling my resentment ("It's not my homework. I DID my homework") and gritting my teeth, we are now trying to approach Learning Logs as a team effort. I can't deny that spending more time with both SSK and Littlest (Eldest is thankfully independent and self-starting) is improving the quality of their work. And I am hoping that the ability to plan and edit and summarise will eventually rub off on them... 

But at the moment, I feel I am in the driving seat, when I really want be reclining in the back and looking out of the window. 

Still, Seldom Seen has been quite engaged with recent explorations of both Cubism and pop art.

Here's his homage to Andy Warhol, courtesy of PicMonkey.

We  talked about the Factory, we listened to the Velvet Underground and looked at the cover of the Warhol "banana" album, we read about Valerie Solanas and Edie Sedgewick, and he asked me to define hangers-on and drag queens. We discussed whether a bottle of Coke or a tin of soup is a good subject for art, and whether a cartoon-y image of Marilyn Monroe is as beautiful as Botticelli's Venus or the Mona Lisa. We admired the remarkable prescience of his observation that In the future, everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes, in this age of reality TV and the internet.

Sure, I was asking the questions, but he was doing some thinking, and he was interested and engaged, and that's when learning happens. Not when you're bored and under pressure and lonely and anxious. 

I'm learning right along with him, and not just about art.

I'm not always very good at admitting when I'm wrong.

But I have underestimated what my son needs from me at the moment, and I need to make it right.

And now he rather likes the Velvet Underground, which is a bonus.

 A teacher at school, with whom I get on very well, recently described me as intractable, and I recognise the accuracy of the description. But I am trying to be less so. Intractability when you've clearly screwed up is just plain old pigheadedness, right?

 xxxx

All tomorrow's parties

Doesn't the weekend roll around quickly?

I don't know where this week has gone.

I had all sorts of plans for sewing, including altering something to wear to  my fabulous friend Tamera's birthday party tomorrow, but the time has got away from me...

So here I am, in my hand-me-down dress from who knows where, ready to join all the fabulous ladies at tomorrow's party!

I have been on the hunt for a 1960-70s stainless steel pendant, and have finally found one.

Although it isn't marked anywhere, I like to think it was made here in Sheffield, the UK's Steel City.

1970s English Lady maxi dress - flea market
Ankle boots - community fair
1960-70s suede jerkin - gift from much-missed Lucy
1970s suede bag - gift from new human-growing Kelly
Necklaces and ring - charity shopped



We spent a lovely day with my dear friend Patsy and her daughter, browsing the charity shops, going for coffee, and introducing them to our favourite Chinese restaurant.

Patsy's daughter behaved impeccably and took this photo for me.

You can see what my kids were like...

I told you - they've gone feral.

I was looking on Youtube for clips of Nico and the Velvet Underground singing All Tomorrow's Parties, but all the examples I saw were Nico in her more ravaged later years, and I wanted to show her at her most iconic and beautiful.

So here's the song, accompanied by some stunning photos of a gorgeous woman.

And here, there is a great clip of her singing Femme Fatal (I wasn't able to embed it, but do go and watch it.)


Have a delightful weekend, check out the party frocks over at Tamera's!


   xxx