Saturday Night and Sunday Morning

Well, it seems I did leave you with a bit of a cliffhanger at the end of last post! The question is, what did I wear for Saturday night’s birthday party? You know, the one we didn’t feel like going to?

Those of you following me on Instagram already know that my outfit of choice was based around this seriously floral midi dress. I’m sure you’ll be shocked, though, when I tell you that it’s not vintage nor even second hand. No, it was a rare retail buy snapped up in last Winter’s sale.

If the print is familiar and makes you think of wallpaper, it’s because it’s from H&M’s collaboration with Morris & Co. in the Autumn of 2018. I’ve always been drawn to the Arts & Crafts movement, and to William Morris in particular so, even if I didn’t queue to buy anything from the collection when it first appeared in the shops, I was more than happy to hand over my money when I spotted the dress on the sales rails.

We snapped a few quick outfit photos before leaving, but I completely forgot to add the maroon cardigan I wore for most of the evening. I was also wearing chartreuse opaques, which obviously you can’t see in the photos. Both the necklace and the wide, chocolate brown leather belt were charity shop finds.

It felt very odd to be told by several people on Instagram that they have the same dress or another garment in a similar print, as I’m definitely not used to that kind of thing!

Both Suzy and Sheila remarked on the pink feather boa I was wearing in the closing photo of my last post, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint them. It's just a pink frilly scarf, which I only wore outside for warmth, as it was a bit of a chilly evening. I thought it looked rather lonely photographed on its own, so I included this lovely Diwali card I received from one of our Indian suppliers to keep it company.

For the record, back in 2006, when we were holidaying in Oxfordshire, we visited Kelmscott Manor, which was William Morris’s Summer retreat, signing a joint lease with the Pre-Raphaelite painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti in the summer of 1871.

And look, here’s a 13 years younger, painfully thin and extremely short haired me. This was definitely a holiday when I needed all my heatwave clothes!

On Sunday, we were up bright and early, as we had the second edition of this season’s indoor flea market to go to. On second thought, scrap the “bright” part, as Jos still wasn’t feeling very well. However, he couldn’t bear the thought of giving the flea market a miss, so off we went.

Obviously, I had to dress the part in order not to let my fans down. There are quite a few traders who are looking forward to seeing what I’m wearing.  What can I say: in a crowd of casually, colourlessly and often shabbily dressed browsers, both Jos and I do stand out a bit!

My maxi skirt and pussy-bow blouse both came from Think Twice, but were purchased years apart. 

The skirt, in a heavy polyester fabric, black with generous sprinklings of blue flowers, was a recent acquisition. It is fully lined as well, which makes it perfect for the current season. 

The blouse, with its red on white geometrical pattern, has been a wardrobe staple for several years. I love its slippery fabric, which allows the pussy bow to flop satisfactorily. In order to secure the bow, I used a scarf clip which always reminds me of Wedgwood's Jasperware china.

The wide belt is one of my current favourites and was a charity shop find. 

Although I hadn’t done my coat swap-over yet at that point, I'm always keeping some warmer jackets at the ready. This green tweed blazer was charity shopped last year. To its lapel, I pinned one of my vintage silhouette brooches. I do love the slightly faded glory of this one.

Comfortable tan boots made for walking completed my outfit.

There were far more stalls at the flea market venue than there were back in September and their overall quality was outstanding, with lots of treasures on offer. However, several traders were complaining that business had been rather slow on both days (the flea market runs both on Saturday and Sunday) which I thought was a bit odd as it was grey and wet outside: the perfect weather for an indoor flea market. 

So, what did we find? 

Let’s start with a group photo!

I was looking for a pair of wooden shoe stretchers, preferably vintage ones, so how miraculous that I found a pair in my size on the very first stall we looked at! They've already been put to use giving a gentle bit of stretch to my vintage Hush Puppies.

Skipping from our first buy to the last one: these vintage buttons were picked up from a stall in the final aisle. I can never resist rummaging through this lady’s extensive collection and was very pleased to find several sets of green buttons, which are generally hard to come by.

I’d already paid for my purchases when my attention was grabbed by this small glass-topped wooden box at the same stall. I’ve always got room for another trinket box, especially one as delightful as this, with its scene of a girl in a rowing boat feeding the ducks.

It almost goes without saying that there were a couple of brooches among my purchases.

The first one I picked up was the green ceramic dog. The stall holder is a very nice, French speaking lady, from whom I’ve bought quite a few things before. She was thrilled when I pointed out the  brooch on my jacket, as this was one of hers as well.

Another butterfly has joined my collection so that once again I'm having to make room in the creepy crawlies drawer.

I already own several micromosaic brooches, but this part of my collection is only growing very slowly, as I'm not willing to pay the usually exorbitant asking prices.  I was dithering over this yellow-rimmed one, when the seller, who is one of my fans, let me have it at a reduced price. I didn't even have to haggle for it, which I hardly ever do anyway.

Both of the brooches on the bottom right are modern Lea Stein rip-offs. There was a whole tray of them to choose from, and these are the ones that came home with me. 

I've kept my favourite find for last.

Passing a stall displaying a jumble of delectable items, my eyes immediately zoomed in to this delightful ceramic girl's head. I'm guessing she's from the late 1920s, early 1930s. She's got a bit of damage, but for me that just adds to her appeal. The seller told us she is French: she was brought back from Provence.

Here she is, feeling quite at home on the shelf of treasures in our bedroom.

By now it is clear that I have a weakness for these ceramic or plaster of Paris heads or wall plaques, most of which live on our spare room's chimney breast and mantelpiece.

There are even some plastic ones, like my beloved Twiggy (top left), which I was able to buy at a great price when one of my favourite vintage shops closed down back in 2016, and the rather demented looking Sybil (bottom left), a hairdresser's training head snapped up in a charity shop for a silly € 0,50. She's great at modelling hats (as is Twiggy) and owes her name to the brand name (Sibel) displayed on her neck, which I've disguised by giving her a jaunty little scarf.

But my most treasured mannequin's head, who spent her former life showing off the latest fashion in hats in a 1930s shop, is the haughty Idina.

She was one of the last ladies left from a lot in a reclamation shop and I'm forever regretting not snapping up a male companion for her.

I was reading The Bolter at the time, the biography of Lady Idina Sackville (1893-1955) by her great-granddaughter Frances Osborne, and I thought my precious mannequin was a dead ringer for her.

Idina was a cousin of Vita Sackville-West, and her behaviour and lifestyle (she married and divorced five times) scandalized middle class society at the time.

Back in August 2016, I asked my blog readers to suggest a name for my mannequin, as I wasn't totally convinced Idina was the right choice. But in spite of all your efforts, the name Idina stuck, so that's show she's been known ever since. Always prefixed with haughty, though!