Scarlet for me, scarlet for you

I do love wearing red.

It's an instant pick-me-up, and you certainly don't fade into the background wearing a bright pillar-box red vintage coat.  

So I had better get myself over (belatedly) to Patti's for Visible Monday, and the reappearance of my sequin beret means I can join Judith for this month's Hat Attack. These are the only link-ups I do, so I hate to miss them! 

 

I can't tell you how much I love this 1960s Jaeger coat; the shape, the fit, the buttons, the colour, the quality of the wool fabric, everything about it says quality. 

(The little micro-mosaic brooch is another charity shop find, the simple hook fastening would suggest it's quite old.)

I had a look on the Jaeger website; their cheapest wool coats cost £299...

and although this one is smart, I prefer mine. Since it came from a charity shop, it was considerably less expensive - just a tenner.

1970-80s St Michael skirt, cardigan, top, beret and bangles - charity shopped

Ankle boots - Ebay

It seemed fitting to wear my red coat to last night's performance of Little Red Riding Hood, the school pantomime. Claudia and Owen were in the cast, as were various of their friends. The audience booed and hissed the baddie, shouted behind you! when required, and clapped and cheered with gusto at the end. We know the drill.

 I'm working both days this weekend as there is another local farmers' market on Sunday. I don't mind, the atmosphere is friendly and relaxed, and it's a good opportunity to make a bit more money for the hospice.

As for when my new shop will open... Well, your guess is as good as mine, but the manager should be recruited before Christmas, so hopefully we will be looking at an opening date in January. I'll keep you posted.

I'll be getting round to commenting on your blogs soon, I promise; hope you're all OK!

xxxxx  

                              

Tweed with everything

Fishnets and leopard print...
 
There's a combination which sounds more suitable for a try out at Spearmint Rhino than the school run.

Yet I think I look rather demure.

Must be the tweed effect.

 This Scottish woollen mill was established in 1758 and is still in operation today.

I found this jacket in a charity shop last week.

The style and buttons seem 1950s/early 1960s to me, and it is in really good condition, so I paid a whole tenner for it. I know, pushing the boat out.

I have sold several items on Ebay, so I feel justified. Remember I said I was going to have an autumn clear out?

Gone!

These either didn't fit, didn't suit, or just weren't earning their wardrobe space.

1950s tweed jacket, dress, tights and bangles - charity shopped
Boots - Ebay
Necklace - gift
Victorian micromosaic brooch - charity vintage sale

 

This jacket has a touch of the crime-fighting lady librarian about it (a look discussed here).

Interestingly, that post was a year ago.

There is obviously something about autumn which calls for a Miss Marple-esque jacket - who knew?

Because I like to mix my eras as well as my metaphors, I also wore the jacket like this;

Lady Fanny, Victorian detective...

...ponders the etiquette of crime-busting when one is a woman of gentility.

1970s maxi skirt, 1970s wool hat and 1950s tapestry bag - flea market
Top, necklaces, bangles, belt and brooch - charity shopped
Jacket and ankle boots - as before



The brooch has real dried flowers under a dome which might be lucite or celluloid, set in a silver tone frame with a simple hook fastening.
It has a 1930-40s look about it, I think.

Anyone know?

Speaking of anyone being able to help out;

Lady Fanny is currently involved in some detective work of a rather personal nature.

She has been informed by a lady of her acquaintance that there is a "tradition" in which a couple getting married take the opportunity at some point during their wedding reception to find somewhere private to, err... consummate their marriage.

No, not after the guests have departed, and the couple wend their weary but triumphant way to the marital bed chamber. During the festivities, while their guests partake of the vol-au-vents and drunkenly dance the Macarena.

Can this be true?

Lady Fanny has attended many a nuptial ceremony, and never noticed the bride emerging from a secret location (where? the toilets? outside, round the back of the kitchen by the bins?) with her lipstick smudged and her dress tucked in her knickers, while the groom follows with his flies undone.

But then she is a spinster of this parish and may not be fully cognisant of wedding rituals.

Can anyone shed any light?
Is my lady friend delusional?
(I fear so.)

Needless to say, if the aforementioned personage ever gets round to having a wedding, Lady F will be paying very close attention.

Surveys may follow on the subject of one night stands, and whether or not there is another "tradition" in which couples are obliged to have sex in every room when they move into a new house.

It's been a day of sexual revelations, accompanied by much hilarity.

How's your Tuesday been?

xxxxx

Fruits, flowers and frock love

          I probably say this about a lot of my clothes, especially maxis, but I think this one really is my favourite.

I bought it from a little community centre fair last year, which I had seen advertised as having a vintage clothes stall. Now I've been fooled by this before - you rock up to find not a single vintage item, and leave disappointed and empty-handed. This one was different, there were a couple of vintage stalls with some really interesting things, and nothing cost more than £3.

At the time, I was following vintage-loving blogs but not blogging myself, and buying vintage to sell but not wearing much.

                                                This dress changed all that. Thank you, Favourite Dress!

It fitted. Perfectly. It was a maxi. With angel sleeves. And a beautiful print. It was love. Is it wrong to love a frock? Nah, I knew you guys would understand!

                                                                         Look - raspberries!

                                              My favourite strawberry brooch adds to the general fruitiness.


I bought this brooch from a lady at a car boot sale who was selling a lot of her late mother's costume jewellery. She had lots and lots of brooches, her mum had worn one every day, along with earrings and a necklace, even when she got very elderly and ill, the lady told me sadly. I assured her I would keep wearing this lovely piece, along with the other two I bought. I think she felt a little guilty for selling her mother's things, but I hope she realised I would continue to wear and treasure them.

                                                                   Heaven must be missing an angel...

My garden does have other colours in it apart from pink, honest! My yellow rose bush is under attack from greenfly, so the poor buds looked a bit scruffy. (Oh Helga, I can hear you tittering!)

                                            Does anyone know what these priapic little beauties are called?

As I was pottering about taking photos in the garden accompanied by the cats, another little creature came to find me.

       Feel free to add your own caption. Just don't call him a priapic little beauty. Not yet, please not yet!