One post, three decades

Dresses might be my True Loves when it comes to clothes, but I do like to ring the changes now and again.

 And I can't be tied down to one era's style either - look at me, all over the place from the 1960s to the 80s. 

I'm just a decade whore.

1960s C&A jacket, wide-legged trousers and 1960-70s crochet bag - charity shopped

Sandals - retail (sale)

Bangle - gift from Fiona

Necklace - gift from Vix 

I didn't know what to wear with this mad 1960s striped jacket until I spotted these pink flares in a charity shop. 

I'm channeling Brian Jones. 

Groovy.

1970s-style jumpsuit, fringed floral jacket, 1960s Prova leather bag, 1960-70s steel pendant, sandals, bangle and belt - 

all charity shopped

I'm slightly embarrassed to admit I had all but forgotten this jumpsuit. The fringed jacket is a new acquisition, and the two seemed destined to be together, in a Stevie Nicks goes to Studio 54 sort of way.

A little bit Halston...

and a little bit hippy.

 1980s C&A silk culotte dress - Ebay

Bangles - charity shopped

Sandals - retail (sale)

Jess - on the prowl in the sunshine

I placed a Ebay bid for this 1980s silk culotte dress on a total whim, and when I won the auction (for a mere 99p), I wasn't really expecting much. 

Imagine my surprise - I really like it, and it's been perfect for some rather warm working days of carrying and sorting bags of donations and using the steamer. 

It's very nearly the end of term, and also the end of Owen's time at primary school. He assures me he isn't going to cry on Friday, and I can't think that I will either (unlike many parents). 

It's time for him to move on, and he's more than ready.

Here he is, complete with genuine 1940s gas mask box, playing an evacuee in the Y6 performance of Archibald's War. He may look miserable, but that's because he's acting, dahling.

Don't let the gorgeous blooms fool you - the garden is in dire need of watering, but I'm knackered and off to bed.

Night night! 

xxx

Hand in hand through their parklife

Late mornings and lazy days, picnics and parks, sunshine and blue skies, with no particular place to go, no deadlines, no schedule.

I could get used to this.

 

 

The kids and I went to Endcliffe Park last week.

 

You're never too old for an enthusiastic game of Pooh Sticks.

We watched a pair of rats pottering about on the edge of the playground; no one else spotted them, but I imagine the park is something of a rat paradise. Plenty of woodland and undergrowth for cover, water, and kids dropping sandwiches and ice creams all over the place, fine pickings for these resourceful little critters.

(Em, on the fruit/rodent scale, I'd say they were the size of very large bananas.)

 

The 1971 children's book Mrs Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, one of my all-time favourites, has engendered a love and admiration for rats in our family.

 This does not extend as far as Chief Rat Catcher Charlie.

 

Her Majesty remains unamused, probably because she has been made to hang around with the working folk. 

 

Claudia and I went into town together on Saturday.

Don't ask - I have no idea why I was pulling that face, but it's fairly typical of what I look like In Real Life. 

 

It's a wonder anyone is prepared to be seen out with me really...

 

This little patch of meadow is in the centre of Sheffield; just lovely.

We admired the vintage dresses in Mooch, and perused the charity shops. 

 

Claudia has had a massive growth spurt recently (as you can see from the photo above, she's only half a head shorter than me now) and I am having to replace most of her clothes. On this occasion, we only found a skirt for school, and most of the things I held up to show her triggered a WTF? face. It's slow progress.

I found this skirt for me - I was drawn to the 1970s styling. It's Whistles, and cost me £3.99. 

 

A quick browse of their website reveals full price skirts retail at well over £100. That makes me feel smug!

Me;

1950s Marie Moore brocade jacket - Second to None, Walsall

Floral palazzos, camisole, belt, necklace, bangles and sunglasses - charity shopped

Carpet bag - gift

Micromosaic brooch - vintage charity sale

Sandals - retail (sale)

 

Claudia;

Shirt, shorts and Converse - charity shopped (the Converse were from the £1.49 charity shop - Best Bargain Ever!)

Vest - hand-me-down

Haircut - by me

I'll be taking my floaty floral trousers along to Sacramento's Share-in-Style link-up.

 

 

 

 

I'm hoping to crack on with a bit of sewing this week, and enjoy some more of this.

 

Hope your weekend involved blue skies and whatever make you happy!

xxxx

Rare and Racy

I've had a week of this, that and the other, odds and sods, doing all sorts but not quite finishing anything.

That's my winsome I know I'm a bit useless, please don't be cross pose.

Is it working?

I did achieve something; I managed to rescue this little critter from the clutches of Charlie the Killer Cat;

though getting a squirrel out from under my cooker and into a pet carrier was quite a task. 

Still, he seemed unharmed, enjoyed the grape I gave him, and scampered away when released in my neighbour's garden.

Charlie hasn't forgiven me. He's still looking at me as though I might be next on his Hit List.

1970s Modelly cotton dress - gift from Vanessa

Denim jacket and bangles - charity shopped

Boots - retail

1980s sunglasses - vintage shop

I spent today pottering around, food shopping and birthday present buying, with a wee bit of charity shopping too, of course.

I can't resist a vintage children's book.

A 1925 publication, with some gorgeous illustrations. It's a little foxed and battered, but that's OK; so am I. And we are both worth two quid of anyone's money.

When I met up with my university friends, I promised I would take some photos of our old haunts to send them. This may prove to be quite a project, since we all lived in various houses, and drank in a lot of different pubs.

So I started with the university, noting the survival of some buildings, and much change in others.

The Drama Studio, Arts Tower, and Firth Court.

Nearby Weston Park is a pretty place to wander.

Although The West End pub, in which I spent far too much time and money, is looking for a new landlord/lady.

Every student needs an independent record shop...
 

and Record Collector in Broomhill is still going strong.

And a secondhand book (and music) shop too...

so it's great to see Rare and Racy has survived. They play the oddest music, often incomprehensibly dissonant jazz, in the background. An old friend used to tell me I should just listen to it as sound, and not think of it as music, in a traditional sense..

I struggle with that. I am old-fashioned, and like a tune.

I love this frock, it's got darling Squirrel Miss V written all over it; feminine, pretty, floral, and sweet.

Hmm, well, I am not always sweet...

 but I am rare and racy.

Isn't it great when your faux lesbian girlfriend treats you to something pretty? Thanks, Patsy!

 

 I felt it was time for a gratuitous boob shot, what with the new bra...

 

 

and you all know I have no problems with making a Thomas Henry Titt of myself.

But now...

it's time for bed!

  xxxx

Sew good

Sew good,

Sew good,

I got you!

And the you in question is my second self-sewn dress.

 

 

 

Here she is!

 

 

A tad windswept; it's been a cardi on/cardi off sort of day. 

 

Partly the undecided weather, partly my decidedly dodgy personal thermostat.

 

But let's focus on the frock.

 

 

 

 I adore the fabric (a 1950-60s barkcloth curtain from a charity shop), the colours and print make me very happy.

A reminder of the 1960s pattern;

 

 

I liked the idea of the sleeve already being built in, and it certainly made life easier (I'm a little scared of sleeves.)

 

I will have to tackle a proper set-in sleeve though, because I prefer the look of them.  

 

 

 

Overall, I am pleased. The zip is neat and invisible, I used bias binding to hem the sleeves and skirt, and it fits!

What did I learn?

 

Don't be a slack arse and omit the stay stitching; the neck stretched, and I am really cross with myself for cutting a corner, when it was only a 2 minute job.

I am getting the impression that I am an inbetween size; a vintage 16 to fit my hips, but I have had to take in both bodices on my homemade dresses for a sleeker line, so perhaps I am a 14 on the top half.

 

I might have taken this one in too far, which is perhaps responsible for that little bit of puckering at the bust.

Advice, experienced seamstresses?

Anyway, I'm nit-picking. And it's interesting to me that I am noticing the flaws, and wanting to improve sufficiently so that they don't happen again. This is not like me. I usually take a fuck it, that'll do approach to most things. 

What can be happening to me? Motivated toward self-improvement? 

Surely not!

 

Greens, blues and pinks proliferate in my garden.

 

Oh, the Sputnik-y joy of unfolding alliums. 

Sputnik-y is definitely a word.

 

 

 

 

It's gorgeous out there.

 

Dress - made it myself

Cardigan, Fly sandals and bangles - charity shopped

Peacock pendant - vintage market

1980s sunglasses - vintage shop 

I wore this dress for the first time last week, and felt that little rush of pride when people complimented me on it.

 

It's a good feeling, and I'll share it over at Jane's Shiny T Tuesday

 

What's next?

 

Hold onto your hats, I might be making some flares!

 

xxxxx