Wintering

February already, but in this parallel universe called blogland I've only just made it past mid-January. And what a miserable, sorry excuse of a month it had been so far! Either wet and windy or - much more appropriately for the first month of the year - bitterly cold, the common denominator was a chronic lack of sunshine, with the sky an endless dome of dullest grey.

As the weather forecast had us brainwashed into thinking it would be sunny on Sunday 19 January,  we'd pinned our hopes on going for a walk that day. Instead, we were faced with yet another grey day with temperatures just below freezing point.

Now, what to do? We briefly toyed with the idea of going to the indoor flea market - which would be our first time since Spring - but our hearts weren't really in it as our cotton wool-filled heads were craving a bit of fresh air.

But first things first, as I still owe you that cliffhanger final find from Saturday's rummage at the charity shop!

I know, it's another coat I didn't actually need and honestly, I wasn't even looking. It just winked at me as I walked from A to B through the XL aisle. A splash of green among the rail of predominantly shapeless black coats, it clamoured for my attention. As you can see it fits me perfectly, so what was it doing in the XL aisle anyway? It's vintage and tailor-made and all it needs is a bit of steam to get it back into shape.

My outfit that day was a mix of new and new-to-me, with a gifted item thrown in for good measure.

The chevron patterned plaid skirt in browns, oranges and a dash of white was wrestled off a charity shop dummy in January 2022 and swiftly established itself as one of my favourites. See here, here and here for some of its previous incarnations. However, it was the first time I combined it with my old purple polo neck

My accessories were predominantly of the orange variety:

Wooden beaded necklace: charity shopped.

Massive suede belt: sales bargain from haberdashery and accessories shop Veritas in January last year.

Faux-Léa Stein cat brooch: gift from Kezzie when she visited Antwerp in February 2022.

In spite of initial misgivings, we persevered and went for a short but freezing cold walk in the sculpture park after lunch. 

We parked near the main entrance to Middelheim-Hoog, where we were greeted by red lettering on the back of one the coach houses belonging to the former castle. It reads: IJZER & GOUD IN DE LUCHT, STUIFMEEL & ROOK OP DE GROND in Dutch, followed by the English translation: IRON & GOLD IN THE AIR, DUST & SMOKE ON THE GROUND. I would have translated stuifmeel as pollen and not dust, though, but perhaps I'm being a bit pedantic :-)

I guess you won't be surprised that this is a work of art. Dating from 1995, its creator the American artist Lawrence Weiner (1942-2021), who worked with language and the viewer’s imagination. In his words, the artwork is created in our minds, and once we “see” it, we take it with us forever. Apparently, the work's subtitle, Wind & The Willows, refers to Kenneth Grahame's children's book, The Wind in the Willows, published in 1908.

We were wondering whether the unearthly colour of the water in the moat was part of the artwork as well, but I couldn't find any reference to it.

We wandered and meandered at will, following our noses until eventually we ended up at the Open-Air Depot. I still find it sad that so many works of art are parked here, some of them ostensibly for restoration purposes, while others are - in the exact words on the museum's website - removed from the outdoor sculpture display for other reasons. I for one would like to know what reasons there can be for treating these works so disrespectfully, while there's plenty of space for them in the park.

I always make a point of visiting one of my favourites, Colonne (1975), the reflective column by Belgian sculptor Félix Roulin (1931): a polished metal column enclosing a human figure - or perhaps it's more than one - trapped inside. Through holes in the column different body parts can be seen.

And speaking of body parts, there are more than just a few missing ones in the corner reserved for side-lined and retired sculptures which in their prime used to grace Antwerp's squares and parks. Case in point is poor Beethoven (above, top right), who has to make do without a hand and upper arm! 

A prominent position is taken up by the statue dedicated to Leopold de Wael (1823-1892) , who was mayor of Antwerp from 1872 until his death in 1892. 

The statue was unveiled in 1897 and remained in place on one of Antwerp's squares until it had to make way for traffic in the early 1950s. It was then moved a couple of times to different locations until it ended up spending its retirement at Middelheim.

Contrary to those parked works of art which constitute the bulk of the Open-Air Depot, I've got a soft spot for this motley collection of old and time-worn sculptures, most of which have been permanently residing in this corner of the park since god knows when and seem to be rubbing along just fine.

And, finally, here is yours truly crossing the Bridge Without A Name (2012). It was created by Chinese artist Ai Weiwei (°1957), who recycled an existing little bridge for his project, replacing the bridge's original deck with planks that form the contours of his homeland China.

I layered a chunky cardigan on top of my polo neck and bundled up in a fudge coloured Astrakhan jacket charity shopped in December 2020. My ears were kept toasty with my velvet turban from Think Twice, insulated with a knitted headband for extra warmth. The scarf was a recent emergency purchase on a day when the one I left the house with wasn't a match for the cold East wind.

I soon regretted just wearing fingerless gloves, though!

Back at home, we defrosted with mugs of hot chocolate and the company of Bess, who's got the right idea by perfecting the art of hibernation.

January's penultimate week was one of two halves, with a continuation of Sunday's weather on both Monday and Tuesday and a return to highs of 8°C with the inevitable rain on Wednesday and Thursday.

No cappuccino catch-up with Inez that Wednesday as she was otherwise engaged, so I went for a walk instead, capturing a handful of Antwerp's treasures before scuttling back inside when the first drops of rain started to fall.

The rain continued on Friday 24 January. In fact, it was quite torrential, with lots of wind - the dregs of storm Éowyn - which made the day's highs of 9°C feel quite chilly indeed.

Other than doing the weekly food shop, some aimless pottering and a bit of mending, they day was spent not doing very much at all, and answering the siren call of the sofa for most of the afternoon.

The lack of proper daylight wasn't conductive to photographing my outfit, so I made Angelica wear it all again on Saturday.

Outfit particulars:

Cord skirt from the Green Ice outlet shop near my office.

Necklace: sales bargain from Veritas in the Summer of 2023.

Brooch doubling as a scarf clip (see detail below): flea market find

Belt: charity shopped back in December

Blouse: Think Twice, sorely neglected, last worn on the blog in May 2017!

More rain on Saturday, which put us off any plans we might have had for the day.

In a fit of madness, I decided to tick off a rather cumbersome task on my to-do list, and one I had been procrastinating on ever since reading about Vix's mishap doing the same: cleaning the chandelier in our bedroom. I'm glad to report that both the chandelier and myself emerged unscathed.

Miracles do happen, as not only did it finally stop raining mid-afternoon, we were even treated to a couple of random rays of sunshine. I quickly grabbed my bag, donned my coat, and walked into town to run a couple of errands.

But not before showing you what I was wearing that day!

One of my Diolen Delights made it out of my wardrobe that day. Found at Think Twice - where else - in January 2023, it made its debut a month later when I met up with Kezzie in Bruges. As she said its pattern made her think of Tardises, it has been known as the Tardis dress ever since!

The diagonally striped orange and burgundy Zoë Loveborn cardigan was a charity shop find, while my necklace is a vintage one found in an antiques centre during a wet Welsh holiday in June 2017.

My brooch came from Rita's stall at the indoor flea market. I guess she and our other favourite stallholders must be wondering what happened to us ...

Before I bid you goodbye once more, let me share my latest read with you. Based on a scandalous divorce case that gripped England in 1864, Emma Donoghue's The Sealed Letter is a chilling tale of  friends, lovers and divorce, Victorian style. Definitely one which cements Emma Donoghue as one of my favourite authors!

We'll be going away for a couple of days next week but I'll try to squeeze in another post before that. If not, see you on the other side!