No chocolate eggs or bunnies for us last Sunday. Nor did we join in an Easter egg hunt. No, we were going on a different hunt altogether. And yes, you have got it quite right: we went on another flea market treasure hunt!
It was quite chilly, so I was glad I didn't put away all the long-sleeved stuff.
I've had this burgundy Merry Finn dress, sprinkled with tiny pink diamonds, for a while now, but it was waiting for the perfect occasion to wear it. It's got a flower border pattern, which is repeated on the breast pocket and collar. Its slippery polyester fabric has an equally slippery lining, so that I was making swish-swish sounds with every move. And look: it's got pockets too! I actually only discovered them during our photo shoot!
For contrast, I added a light blue cardigan (with red and mid blue accents at the cuffs) and light blue plastic beads and ring.
The jacket I chose for the occasion is a 1980s does 1930s Sears number, to which I pinned a gold tone brooch set with a turquoise stone.
The blue scarf striped with a multitude of colours came from a cheap High Street shop (Zeeman, for my Belgian and Dutch readers) and I have it in pink as well.
The flea market is a firm favourite, the quality of the stalls much better than those in Antwerp.
Still, it didn't have its usual capacity, which was probably due to the Easter break.
Upon entering, we almost walked into this flamingo, which instantly made me think of Melanie!
It was too big to take home with us, though, not to mention far too expensive, as was the majority of the objects displayed on this stall. Most of it was still there when we walked past on our way out ...
It didn't take us long to make our first purchases, all from the same delightful stall: a brooch with an intriguing stone, a vintage string of beads and a pocket watch chain. The enamel goose brooch came from a different stall.
We also found this cute trio of poodles - mum with her two puppies attached by little chains - on the first stall.
We have a glass Bambi ornament in the same vein.
I'm guessing both ornaments date from the 1950s.
We halted in front of this contraption (bottom left), which I recognized to be a Teasmade. Having come across similar ones in several books on vintage, it was the first time I saw one "in the wild".
Belgium isn't a nation of tea drinkers, and I was raised on coffee from a tender age.
In fact, I only had my first taste of tea when on a school holiday in Austria, aged 11, and I thought it tasted disgusting.
Later, I learned to appreciate tea, especially upon discovering there was more than one variety!
After all, you cannot call yourself an Anglophile and not like tea!
Among the usual jumble of stalls selling heaps of clothing, crates of books and records, not to mention those stalls consisiting of nothing but cartons containing a lifetime of accumulated junk, there are those whose display halts you in your tracks.
We were tempted by a cheerful stall full of vintage crockery, part of which you can see in the above collage on the bottom right.
We bought this French coffee pot complete with a removable filter for brewing coffee. Not only does it look great against the blue walls of our kitchen, it produces seriously strong coffee, as we were about to find out the next morning.
From the same stall came this French, green enamel salt container which, knowing us, we will use for something else entirely. It is joining the other green enamel kitchenware we already have.
Then it was time for lunch, which for once didn't consist of a picnic. We splashed out and had coffee and a roll in the cafeteria, which is situated smack dab in the middle of the flea market, so that you can watch proceedings while you eat.
It was also in view of the aforementioned Teasmade. As I've finally succumbed to a smartphone, I started Googling the damn thing and found out that it was a 1950s one, produced by Goblin. I also almost choked on my roll when I saw the prices it was going for.
After lunch, we casually sauntered by the Teasmade stall, acted as if we had no idea what it was, patiently listened to the seller's explanation and eventually asked for the price. It turned out to be so much less than what I'd seen online, that we said we'd take it there and then. This is quite unusual for us, as we have an agreement not to buy anything unless we know the perfect place to put it. Oh, well, you only live once, I suppose.
As it was, it didn't take long to find the perfect place.
Back at home, we proceeded to clean it up, as it - especially the kettle - was quite dirty. It came up a treat, though. Not only that, it is in full working order.
And we found it mentioned in our Collecting the 1950s book!
Although they are meant to be kept by the bedside, to wake you up in the morning with a cup of tea, the thing makes quite a racket, which goes on for about 10 minutes until it comes to the boil. The pressure of the steam then forces the boiling water along the chrome tube at the top and into the tea pot. After the kettle has emptied the platform it stands on rises and cuts off the current, at the same time switching on the alarm and the lights.
I can foresee this becoming quite the party trick!
Goblin manufactured their first Teasmade in 1937. It was made of plywood and had an actual lampshade. Due to the outbreak of war, however, production was halted and only resumed in 1947.
From 1949 until 1955, they produced the D21 model, which in design was the predecessor of our Teasmade. This one, however, had a plywood body and an accompanying wooden tray.
From 1955 until 1960, it was replaced by the D25 model, which was made from cream urea plastic (a kind of Bakelite), with an orange Goblin figure on the front. Sounds like ours, then. But some more Googling revealed it to be the D25b model, which was produced in 1960, the only differences being purely cosmetic, like the colour of the clock's face and hands.
If you are interested, you should check this fabulous website run by two Teasmade collectors, from which I gleaned my information as well as the fabulous ads.
Now, all this writing about coffee and tea has made me quite thirsty. Shall I put the kettle on?