The wonderful world of Chesterfield flea market

It's been some time since I visited Chesterfield flea market. A combination of bad weather and other commitments has meant that Joanne and I have spent our Thursdays elsewhere lately, so it was good to be back yesterday.

Don't worry, I did wear a coat, but I wanted to show off this new-to-me 1970s frock from my charity shop. I found it as I rummaged among the summer stock in the attic, looking for some colour and print to brighten up the dress rail, which was looking hopelessly tired, dull and drab.

I know this dress is sleeveless, but that doesn't make it an exclusively summer piece, does it? I brought all manner of pretty dresses down to put out in the shop, to the consternation of the other volunteers; but that's summer stock!  

 

Well, the proof of the strategy is in the sales; I put a sleeveless dress with a great digital print and a brightly coloured little jacket on a mannequin in the window, and a lady bought the entire outfit about 10 minutes later. So there! 

 

I can't tell you how much I love doing the window display, and how much I preen with self-satisfaction when a customer says it looks good.

1970s St Michael faux fur jacket, 1970s Christian Marcus dress, brooch, bangles and tights - charity shopped

Boots - retail

1970s necklace - vintage market

Now what was I saying? I've distracted myself. 

 

 

Oh yes - Chesterfield. 

Joseph greeted us like long-lost friends; I bought a 1950s Alfred Meakin Montmartre jug from his stall. We don't do Mothers Day in this house, but I don't need an excuse to buy myself something pretty for a quid.

I wonder what she gets for Mothers Day?

 

Booze, bunnies and buckets.

Only the strongest and best cocoa for Her Most Gracious Majesty.

No wonder Action Man looks grumpy - he's lost his pants.

Your own Personal Jesus.

 

 

Wonderful vintage packaging.

.

The juxtaposition of lard and champagne made me laugh.

Objects of the day, both from the early years of the Twentieth century;

a Cabinetta oak and canvas fold-up officer's campaign bed, possibly dating from the First World War or earlier (they were used in the Boer War too);

 

and a rather grotesque fur evening bag made out of ermine, I think. All its little teeth are intact, and if you lift up its head, you can see its paws. I'm used to seeing fox stoles, but I've never seen a bag with an animal's head on it before. 

 

I don't know what the poor thing's got to smile about... Possibly the fact that the seller informed me it was a bat.

 

 

Apart from my Meakin jug,  I pushed the boat out and spent a whole tenner on Jo and Amanda's stall. They were having one of their 3-items-for-a-fiver sales, so here are my six pieces;

an Edina Ronay Victoriana-style jacket (doesn't suit me at all, so it's destined for Ebay)

a very weighty beaded Twenties-style dress

a Monsoon silk and net skirt

 John Smedley cotton knit hoodie (for Claudia)

a blue/black wiggle dress by Taylor (not a brand I know)

and a 1970s Indian block-printed wraparound maxi skirt. 

£1.70 each - not bad.

And that's why I love a visit to Chesterfield market!

I'm out for dinner with my old friends Sally and Claire tonight, so I'd better go and put my face on; have a great weekend, everyone!

xxxx

 

Me ears are alight

Sometimes, the things people do or say leave me shaking my head in wonder or bewilderment. 

Sublime to ridiculous and all points in between - we humans have it all covered, don't we?

Walking to school with Nina yesterday, a woman I know only slightly stopped me to say that her grandfather came from a tribe in Nigeria, and she loved my dress because it reminded her of their traditional colours.

That made my day.

We went out for delicious Chinese food on Friday night, and the kids used chopsticks with aplomb. 

I have been trying to remember the first time I ate in a Chinese restaurant; I think I was 21, and it took me some years after that to get the hang of chopsticks.

The differences between their experiences of childhood and my own sometimes leave me breathless.

Then again... some things never change, man's inhumanity to man being one of them.

Nina was mocked and insulted by two children at school about the appearance of her skin. As she always does, she asked them to stop, since what they were saying hurt her feelings. They didn't. She told a lunchtime supervisor, who advised her to ignore them.

No. That is not an adequate response from an adult. It's a cop out, a lazy way to deal with inappropriate behaviour on the one hand, and distress on the other. How do those children learn that such teasing/abuse is unacceptable if it isn't addressed? And why should any child with a disability (or indeed without one) have to accept it?

Rest assured I will be talking to school about the incident, and suggesting that there is a training need here. 

1950-60s Hawaiian barkcloth dress - flea market

Jacket, bag, bangles and necklace - charity shopped

Ankle boots - community fair

The prize for the most inappropriate donation to a charity shop this week goes to the person who thoughtfully gave us a half-used tube of anal lubricant. 

Thanks for that.

The weather has been utterly bizarre this week; glorious sunshine, howling gales, snow and hail storms, all within moments of each other. Or indeed at the same time. 

How is a girl supposed to know what to wear? 

As predicted, we're sharing the jacket. And the scarf, apparently...

My friend has just adopted a kitten. He's adorable. 

Despite my advice that it wasn't necessary, she insisted on buying him a bed. I suggested that if he had the run of the house, he would likely choose his own spot to sleep, and anyway, cats love boxes so a cardboard box with a blanket would be just as good.

She was horrified. She said it would look as though they didn't care about him sufficiently to buy him a bed. 

Because kittens are known to care about how things look, and what has been spent on them.

I don't know. 

 

I listen, but sometimes I wonder if I'm hearing things right. 

 Much like this guy.

 

(Nina doesn't get it, and asked what's a tape?)

xxxx

 

In neutral

I've been waiting all winter for my annual cold of epic proportions to hit, and it's finally arrived. So be gentle with me, I feel fragile. 

Nah, not really - I'm tough as old boots, but currently with added phelgm. Mmmm.

 

 

I am feeling the need to apologise to my darling friend Vix for these outfits; she'll be most disappointed with my lack of colour (see her post on the subject here). 

 

Between Monday's denim and leopard print and today's denim and lurex, I did wear plenty of green, red, purple and orange, honest; I just didn't take any photos.

Denim dress, top, belt, beret and leather patchwork bag - charity shopped

1970s Wallis cropped faux fur jacket - Kinky Melon's Retro Boutique

Boots - retail

This outfit reminded me of Natalia's Girl Next Door look here; she wondered whether neutral colours and casual clothes are necessarily predictable and boring. 

Well, denim and leopard print are neutrals, aren't they? And this is about as casual as I get. You'll have to decide whether it's boring or not!

I'll link my blue beret with added flare (if not flair) to Judith's Hat Attack.  

There is a Seventies vibe going on, though neither dress nor top are vintage. Both items cost just a £1 each from charity shop sale rails.

1970s Alexon lurex maxi skirt, Levi's denim jacket, top, suede waistcoat, scarf, bangles and boots - all charity shopped

1960s tapestry bag - gift from Gisela

 

 

The gloomy light is making everything look grey... And that really is a neutral too far for me. 

In reality, the waistcoat is more of a petrol blue, and the skirt is sparkly black/silver lurex. 

 

That's better!

I was pleased to find the Levi's denim jacket for a fiver yesterday; I bought it for Claudia really, since she has purloined permanently borrowed one of mine, but I might keep it. In all likelihood, we'll share.

The Alexon maxi skirt was in a bag of donations given to the charity shop on Wednesday...

along with several other 1970s treasures; a lurex blouse/jacket hailing from Leicester, two slinky and glamorous maxi dresses (sadly too tiny for me), a Louis Feraud skirt, and a 1960-70s wooden beaded bag.

My fellow volunteers laughed at me for squealing ooh, lurex! as I pulled the skirt and blouse out of the bag. I know they think I'm bonkers, but the bonkers lady has raised over £1000 for the hospice, and has been mentioned in dispatches. 

 

Well, in the shop's weekly bulletin from the manager anyway. Oh yes, they took the piss out of me about that as well; we've reached that stage of a friendship where some gentle leg-pulling is permitted, and I love it.

Thank heavens (or rather Kirsty) for a haircut yesterday, it was much needed and very therapeutic. And I'm relieved to be approaching the weekend too; Chinese food and folk music are on my agenda, what about you?

Hope you have a good one!

xxx

Let the sunshine in

I was going to do a post about Spring being around the corner, all sunshine-y and full of crocuses. 

But today it's trying to snow and it's so cold, I need to put my faux fur back on. 

But never mind, here are some photos from a couple of days ago, when I mistakenly felt as though winter was over.

1960s Admyra jacket, 1970s St Michael cotton maxi skirt, 1960s acetate scarf, white blouse and most of the bangles - charity shopped

Striped bangle - gift from Fiona

I love the details and thought that went into clothing before cheap mass production took over; this little jacket has matching fabric-covered buttons, flattering seaming and decorative stitching, and those lovely little elbow darts to shape the sleeves, so typical of the Fifties and Sixties.

I wouldn't be able to afford such quality in modern clothing; another reason to track down vintage pieces in charity shops, you get the workmanship without the out-of-reach price tag.

I found this little lot in various charity shops this week too, all destined for Ebay; a handmade 1950s cocktail dress with the decorative corded/frogging detail, a 1960-70s Scottish-made tartan skirt, and a 1950-60s flocked evening dress. 

I did try the skirt...

but decided I didn't love it enough to keep it. I just can't seem to get on with tartan.

The 1970s St Michael pussy bow top is a keeper, and I spotted the 1970s Lee Bender-designed pattern on Ebay.

If anything is going to revive my sewing mojo, surely it is this beauty, although I am a bit scared that it's too complicated for me. 

Half term has been quiet, but none the worse for that. There have been sniffles and coughs circulating round the house, and I think we were all tired and in need of some down time.

There have been trips out to coffee shops and charity shops, of course, and another lamentable performance by The Ladies' Purse at our local pub's fiendishly difficult quiz. And I was given chocolates, flowers and a bottle of Surf by the manager of the charity shop as a thank you for the Ebaying I have done for them. We chuckled over the Surf; she wondered if I would rather have had a bottle of wine, but hey, washing has to be done, right?

Back to the routine tomorrow. I think that's OK.

I'll take my Spring colours over to Patti's for Visible Monday.

Hope you have all had a great weekend!

xxx

Modelling Mod

It's been something of a relief that most of the magnificent haul of vintage clothing recently donated to the charity shop has been too small for me. 

 

Disappointing in some respects, yes, but the fact that most of the pieces didn't fit me made it easy to part with them without a backward glance, and of course they have made very good money for the hospice.

But I confess to a little yearning for a couple of them...

these two 1960s beauties, for instance.

They've got that cool Mod vibe going on, and I was tempted. Enough to give them a bit of a road test this week.

1960s Courtaulds dress, bracelets and tights - charity shopped

Boots - retail (sale)

 

 

Black'n'white grooviness, including Mary Quant and Diana Rigg. 

1960s Tricoville suit, shoes, tights and beret - charity shopped

More fab Mod frocks.

I look like a Sixties air stewardess, which of course is a good thing, as my favourite ex-hosties Fiona and Connie know!

Charlie reckons I should get my own colour scheme and stop being a copy cat...

 

and Min agrees.

Despite the fact that I do love the style of both dresses, I don't actually adore them on me. Blame the period bloat, or my overflowing wardrobe, or my general arsiness, but I'm just not feeling either of these outfits. The high necklines bother me, and I feel less like me in them than I should.

So away to Ebay with them (after a wash, obviously!) 

 

 

And while I'm in a dissatisfied mood, here's another thing.

What is the deal with charity shops and new goods? Why do so many of them insist on flogging bought-in stock, usually of poor quality but with inflated prices? I can understand selling Christmas cards, maybe diaries or calendars; and I can even forgive Oxfam its range of fair trade gifts and toys. 

But isn't the USP of charity shops the fact that they are all different, with a unique and ever-changing (secondhand) stock; and don't their customers understand that it always worth a look because they never know what they might find? When charity shops fill their precious display space with new bags, hats, scarves and gloves, customers are seeing the same goods in every branch. And I would hazard a guess that anyone wanting a trapper hat or pair of earmuffs has already bought them by mid-February.

 

To me, it feels like a fundamental misunderstanding of why customers choose to go to charity shops, but I'm interested to know what do you think.

 

(I'm hormonally grumpy, so it's probably best to agree with me. Today, I heard Claudia hissing don't make her angry! at Nina, when she thought I was out of earshot. Just saying.)

 

xxx