I know it's out of fashion and a trifle uncool

I've been both working and playing pretty hard of late. 

 

I like having plenty to keep me occupied, but I must confess I reach a point where all I want to do is curl up under a blanket on the sofa with a mug of tea, and catch up on the X Factor auditions.

 

I'm so rock'n'roll. 

Most of this outfit is newly acquired. 

I had an abortive attempt at buying some Lotta from Stockholm clogs earlier this year (they are cheaper than Swedish Hasbeens, and you can buy slight seconds at an even more reduced price). However, when I tried them out by wearing them around the house, they hurt my feet so much, I was glad to take them off. The foot bed was clearly all wrong for the shape of my foot, and although I got a refund without any trouble, I was sad at not being able to wear them.

 

So hurrah for finding these suede Gudrun Sjoden clogs in a charity shop for less than a fiver! I love the colour, and they are comfortable enough to wear for a day at work when I am on my feet for 8 hours. 

Excuse my rain-tipped toes.

Ooh, a leather skirt! Modern, but it's got a cool Seventies A-line vibe which I like.  

1980s jacket (part of a culotte suit), leather skirt, tights, clogs, and vintage Austrian crystal necklace - all charity shopped 

It seems appropriate to give a nod to the early Eighties, since I was reminiscing about my time at university again last Saturday. 

I attended a reunion event with these lovely ladies; we were all at university together, 1982-5.

L-R; Me, Sally, Rebecca, Claire J and Claire H.

 

We laughed and gossiped, caught up on what's going on now as well as reminding each other of what happened 30 years ago. (What's wrong with me, I seem to have forgotten so much!) Rebecca lives in New Zealand now, so it's a rare treat to see her, and Claire H is in London; the rest of us are still here in Sheffield. 

We danced to all sorts of music, but yes, there were some Eighties classics in the mix. Of course there were!

 

For once, I had to be sensible and was the first to leave as I was working on Sunday. 

There is a quarterly Farmers' Market in Nether Edge, the suburb where my shop is located, so we open on those Sundays to capture the passing trade. It coincided with the final day of our end of season sale, and all clothes, shoes and bags were £1. It was very busy; I loved it, and we made lots of money. 

It's been good to have a day off today, pottering in a damp garden with my cats.

Charlie is always the one causing bother; Minnie does not want to engage with him, especially when he's showing his arse. And who can blame her?

The girls co-exist in reasonable harmony.

I'll be joining the always harmonious get-together over at Patti's for the welcome return of Visible Monday. 

 

 Looking forward to catching up with you all!

xxxxx

Young fools, drama queens and great friends

Those who have read this blog for a while might remember a post from last year about meeting up in London with my old university friends.

We made plans to reconvene in Sheffield this year, since it is the 30th anniversary of our graduation.

The eagle-eyed among you will notice a change; Alex couldn't come this time, but Jane travelled over from France to join us. 

It all started here, the University of Sheffield's Theatre Workshop.

Andrew, Jane, me, Martin and Clare.

None of us have been back in this space for 30 years. It contains a lot of memories.

Martin, Jane, Clare, Alex, Annabel (where are you?) and Martin in the workshop in 1984.

And top row, middle, there's Sue, our lovely friend who is no longer with us. We missed her.

(That's me, bottom right.)

Oh the masks we wore; hopefully, we realise we no longer need them. 

It was a strange and fascinating experience, wandering around this place where we spent so much time all those years ago. Parts of it, I barely remembered (although it has changed, of course) while other areas brought back strong memories which packed a visceral punch.

There were no mannequins back in our day, and no prop store either, but of course there was a lighting tower...

look, there are Alex and Martin up on top of it.

I must give credit to a lovely man called Rob, who is the theatre and productions manager at the university. I emailed him to ask if there was any way we could have a nosy round, and he was kind enough to agree to this strange request, not only meeting us on a Saturday but spending lots of time showing us round, and taking us into the Drama Studio as well.

We really did appreciate it. 

This former Baptist church was converted into a Drama Studio in 1970; evidence of its ecclesiastical past is evident inside as well as out. 

Five characters in search of their history...

which appears to have made them thoughtful and amused in equal measure.

We had a wander around the university campus;

we had our lectures in the Arts Tower, which was sadly closed so we were unable to revisit the famous paternoster lift, but the Octagon Centre was open as it was being set up for graduation ceremonies. 

That's where this photo was taken in 1985.

We strolled through the Botanical Gardens, much improved since the 1980s...

as are we. We toasted absent friends...

and ended up at Thyme Cafe for a delicious meal.

1985; the miners' strike ended and Eastenders began, the wreck of the Titanic was located, the disaster at Heysel stadium led to English football clubs being banned from Europe, 17 year old Boris Becker won Wimbledon, riots occurred in London, Birmingham and Liverpool, and Live Aid was a phenomenon.

We got into the groove, walked on sunshine, danced in the street, didn't need another hero, ran up that hill, built this city on rock and roll, had a view to a kill, and knew a good heart was hard to find.

We left the safety of university, its protective routine and the friends we had made there, and went our separate ways.

It's good to know that we can come back together and find genuine warmth, great humour, and valued friendship all over again after 30 years.

Rerum Cognoscere Causas; to know the causes of things.

There is always more to discover about life and each other; where to next year, gang?

xxxx

A grand day out

I had another child-free day out at the weekend.

I went to York with my old friend Patsy.

 

Selfies in the Museum Gardens!

My 20+ year friendship with Patsy is very forthright and honest. We have been taken for a lesbian couple on many occasions, which I think is because we do that affectionate bickering and teasing in which couples often engage.

 

And of course we laugh uproariously whenever that happens.

 

 

 

We've been on some great trips together over the years too. These photos are from holidays in the USA (1997) and Greece (1998).

 Saturday's location might not have been quite as far-flung, but York is still a fine place to visit.

 

 

There are beautiful sights and incredible buildings at every turn. 

 

Of course, the Minster is spectacular.

 

We enjoyed strolling the streets along with the many, many tourists, but really, we were on a mission.

 

Did I mention York has a lot of charity shops?

They're a bit pricey though. Out of nine - count them, nine - shops, I only bought one thing, a replacement sequin beret (my old one is getting decidedly ratty and I am thinking ahead to autumn.)

But I promised the nice man in the vintage section of the Sue Ryder shop I'd give them a mention. They have an upstairs room which is just like a vintage shop really, not ridiculously expensive, and very well stocked and displayed.

 

 The nearest I'm ever going to get to a wedding dress!

 

Now Patsy was kind enough to buy me an early birthday present from this shop;

 

 

 

and since I am impatient, I am wearing it today.

 

 

 

 

A delicious 1970s cotton dress in great colours and contrasting prints. I love it. 

 

 

And because Patsy is ridiculously generous, she marched me into Fenwicks to try on bras, and bought me this one. 

 

I do like a decent bra. 

 

I nearly flashed a little boy in the changing rooms, could have scarred him for life.

 

I had a really lovely day.

I was wrapped in a bubble of good humour and affection afterwards, sufficient to allow me to smile indulgently at all the extremely drunk people at York Station when I caught my train home. There had been a race meeting, and there were a lot of very rowdy folk, most of whom seemed to pile on my train. No one was being aggressive, it was all good-natured enough, but it's a good thing that I am not offended by swearing. 

Mind you, I have had previous experience of York station on a race day. I was with the kids, and we watched in amusement when a woman flashed her be-thonged backside at her friends who were on a departing train; in return, one of the women on the train then lifted her top and squashed her bare bosom against the window.

My kids' eyes were out on stalks. Mine too, actually. 

 

 

And I was worried about that little boy in the Fenwicks' changing room; in comparison, I am the epitome of ladylike dignity. 

 

 

 

No. You're mistaken. That's not me.

 

xxx