Wonderful Life

I have somehow made it to 300 blog posts!

My lovely friend Shelley recently made it to 800, and noted that she still enjoys blogging and feels inspired to continue.

So do I, due in no small part to all of you, the friends who bother to read and comment and support and amuse and entertain and inform. I've spent a bit of time this year mourning the people who have disappeared from my blogging world, but I decided that to focus on those who are no longer around does a disservice to those who are. 

And I want to say a big thank you to all of you, you are brilliant!

Yes, I mean you, Patti, Lynne, Tania, Fiona and Shelley.

Vix

Helga

and Jan.

Thank you to Mel and Krista

Vanessa

Jean
 
 

Tamera

Amber

and Em.

Such lovely friends - and of course there are many more, and I would have loved to create photos for all of you. But alas, the kids needed feeding and the Christmas presents needed wrapping and there was work to go to...

Without you, I'd feel like this;

But with you, it's a wonderful life.

An inappropriately summery video, I know, but the sentiment is fitting.

xxxx
 

   

                                                                         

So Merry Christmas to all...

 

xxxxxxx

Every picture tells a story

This season's must-have accessory? 

Why, an umbrella, of course.

Oh how it has rained. 

Thank goodness for my lovely 1950s umbrella, bought from Chesterfield flea market. For a slender little thing, it has turned out to be surprisingly sturdy.

There's that waistcoat again, the price-per-wear must be mere pennies by now...

Umbrella and cape - flea market
1970s pencil skirt, blouse, suede waistcoat, beret, tights and bangles - charity shopped
Shoes - jumble sale 
Vinyl/tapestry bag - gift from dearest Vix
Flower brooch - retail (sale) 

Dress, waistcoat, 1950s tweed jacket and bangles - charity shopped
Boots - retail (old)
Bag - jumble sale
Beads - gift from Brodie



Photos.

I do struggle with them. Mine are so hit and miss, and I have no idea why they sometimes work and sometimes don't. 

I am in awe of bloggers who post amazing photographs, and I do wish mine were a little better, but I am too bone idle to learn to use my camera properly - it's automatic or nothing for me, I'm afraid. And if the light conditions are dodgy, then the photos are too.


An awful lot of my photos look like this.
(Most get deleted immediately.)

Blurry, eyes closed, obscured by foliage, distracted, caught mid-stomp with my neighbour's washing on show...

Britain's Next Crap Model, that's me.

And then there was the small matter of the collapsing tripod...

Professional blogger? Not even close.

  I'm strictly amateur, and that's the way I like it. This isn't a job, it's a hobby; it's like meeting up with my pals and having a chat and a catch-up.
 

So - there are inexpert photos, pets, kids, mess.

There is swearing and foolishness, and there are some opinions, though these are generally unrelated to this season's trends or how to wear... guidance.  There's the odd rant (like this), occasional seriousness, regular cheap-skatery and acting the fool, and maybe a laugh or two.

There are no ads, no sponsorship, I'm not promoting anything, I don't monetise (whatever the hell that means...)
 I'm not splashing my face all over a million and one link-ups, several pics at a time.
I'm not asking you to vote for me in blogger competitions, there are no reviews which begin When the lovely people at blah blah blah got in touch to give me a freebie, I said gimme gimme gimme.

  

 
I'm just singing and dancing in the rain for the sheer fun of it, and it is indeed a glorious feeling.

The relief of it - being highly unprofessional, imperfect, and not caring!

Hope everyone is having a good week so far, see you soon.

xxxxx

This much I know

You would imagine that by my age, I might know a thing or two.

And so I do, I suppose.

But it seems that what I do not know is that it is not sensible to go to a friend's birthday gathering (with good intentions of not drinking much, nor staying late, since I wasn't feeling that great, and had to be up early in the morning) and merrily proceed to get very drunk, and roll into bed at 2 o'clock in the morning.

 

It also appears that five delightful ladies, pillocks pillars of the community all, think it is wise to wear leotards with flowers for boobs, and to try on kids' clothes rifled from a bag of hand-me-downs.

Rolling Stones t-shirt (age 12-14) for me, boy's pants (age 10) for Trace.

 

I know. Shameful.

 

What else do I know?

 

I know that I leapt out of bed on Saturday morning, horribly late, because it appears I can't set my alarm properly when I am pissed.

I know that after a mini-meltdown, I was encouraged by Eldest at least to attempt to get to the train station in time, which I duly did, in half an hour. I had a blogger meet-up to get to in Birmingham, I couldn't miss it.

 

I know that I was the strange woman on the bus muttering shit shit shit come on come on hurry up under my breath. No one came to sit next to me...

I know that I am too old and too unfit to run through the train station to catch a train, by the skin of my barely-brushed teeth. And that is it not dignified to doze for half the journey, slumped against the window, before rousing myself to put my make-up on and dry shampoo my ratty hair.

And that when I meet my glamorous, beautifully turned-out blog friends at my destination, it probably isn't polite or ladylike to announce myself with I'm hungover as fuck!

 

 

 

 

Birmingham's Rag Market was bursting at the seams with all manner of stuff - big pants and cheap tights, fancy dress masks (don't they make a lovely couple?) and an Obligatory Blogger Deer.

Vix was the perfect tour guide. And looked a treat posing in the porn star chair.

 

Yes, she walked all day in those heels, arthritic hip and all. She's bloody amazing.

 

 

 

 

Everyone but me managed to find glorious bargains at the wonderful 91 Allison Street shop, presided over by lovely Sue. 

 

I did try, but the delicious green 1970s maxi dress I tried on was a boob squisher.

 

 

Vix, Fiona and Gisela.

 

 

Thanks goodness for lunch!

 

I know that chips have a therapeutic magic; Vix swore they would stop me from feeling so faint and wobbly, and she was quite right.

 

And gifts too, they always help; beautiful handmade cards from Fiona and a fabulous metal cuff from Vix.

We rummaged the rails in Cow, where 80s clothes go to be reborn for the cool young things of today...

...and strolled along the fascinating streets of Digbeth, checking out the vintage shops. 

 

That beautiful Spanish maxi coat fitted Liz perfectly, and Fiona has a petite enough head for vintage hats, unlike myself.

Pippi, Fiona, Gisela and Liz.

 

 

 

 

When Frankie, the proud owner of this beast, heard me say to Vix she was posing like a pro, he said he didn't want one of them sitting on his bike...

Fiona wanted a go too.

We stopped off for a drink in a proper old-fashioned boozer, where Figaro by the Brotherhood of Man was playing in the background, and we talked 1970s pop music and TV stars, who's had work done, vintage buying and selling, cameras, pubs, blogging and blog friends, and consulted Vix as to who was most "on-trend" with their day's purchases (that would be Fiona - a chunky Scandi jumper, and a dress and skirt, both wool, both tartan. She's such a hipster!)

 

 

This man asked Vix if his wife could take her photo. She was recognised by another lady who follows her blog too. I'm friends with a real celeb!

And that was the end of our fabulous day.

I also know that when I got home, I was exhausted, slept for over 12 hours, and spent most of Sunday snuggled up under a crochet blanket on the sofa drinking tea, accompanied by a variety of cats and children, catching up on X Factor and Strictly Come Dancing, while aching from the very roots of my hair to the tips of my fingers and toes.

So I think I am actually ill, as opposed to merely hungover (though obviously that won't have helped...)

 

 

 

 

I know I am a bit better today, although I still feel as though I have a lead weight on my chest.

I know I adore my only purchase from Saturday, a beautiful 1950-60s tapestry bag from Urban Village.

I know I will be linking my headscarf to Judith's Hat Attack tomorrow.

 

1980s cotton dress and tapestry flats - Ebay

Belt, bangles, necklace and sunglasses - charity shopped

Scarf - birthday present from lovely Fiona

This much I know:

Blogging is A Good Thing.

 

I have met some wonderful women whose company is a real joy, and of whom I am genuinely fond. 

They are kind, funny, charming, friendly, generous and beautiful.

I would never have stumbled across them if not for doing this.

If you ever have doubts about the worth of blogging as a pastime, arrange a blogger meet-up; it will restore your faith.

And cure your hangover.

xxxxxx

Make mine a double

My dearest friend Vix posted a while back about two dresses she bought from Ebay, same style but different colours.

Go see her gorgeous pair (of frocks, I mean) here.

And the ever-delicious Tania mentioned a similar experience, though she chose the red and left the turquoise version of her frock for someone else.

Now it's my turn!

Why have one superb 1960s maxi when you can have two?

These are Sherman of London dresses, both bought from Ebay.

I loved the story of the navy/pink version, which the seller described in her listing (bought in 1969, then family came along, and the dress was unworn and relegated to a suitcase).

While browsing Ebay some time afterwards, I spotted the black/yellow version, with no such story attached, and not in such good condition, but obviously too good to miss.

 

The prints and colours make me happy just looking at them.

(Please ignore the creases...)

 

I haven't worn this one as much; the elastic of the shirred bodice is loose, and there was a hole in the skirt.

I've patched the hole now, I intend to take in the sides of the bodice for a snugger fit, and let down the hem where it has been taken up.

1960s Sherman maxi dresses - Ebay

Kimono jacket, black cardigan, hair flowers, necklace and bangles - charity shopped

Sandals and sunglasses - retail

Pendant - car boot

I suppose maxis are my signature style (though I sound a right pompous arse using that phrase).

 

I enjoy wearing dresses and skirts of other lengths, but I often feel my best in a maxi.

My best self.

So I'm linking these beauties to Jane's Shiny T Tuesday, the theme this week being Undeniably Me.

 

 

 

 

Is anyone else finding it hard to know what time of day to take their photos? 

 

The bright sun around midday is impossible, but even later in the afternoon/early evening, the conditions are tricky, at least for my modest little point-and-press camera.

Maybe I should forget any attempts at realism and just go mad with PicMonkey's effects...

 

 

Sometimes, amid a sea of black, grey, cream and denim, I think I must look like this to other people.

 

 

 

.

Oh well. 

My pair of Shermans and I can live with it.

Hope you are feeling colourful and beautiful and undeniably your best selves this week.

 

PS. 

Thanks so much for all the encouragement to continue having a big mouth!

    xxxx