We've found some fabulous stuff on our charity shop jaunts over the last couple of weeks & the stockroom rails are positively groaning under the weight of crazily printed maxi dresses, capes, leather coats, tweed jackets and 70s dagger collared shirts but that's work and I'm on holiday so here's what I've added to my wardrobe.
It's all about me, me, me!!
I went a bit weak at the knees when I spotted a black velvet sleeve adorned with gold soutache poking out from a rail in the local charity clearance shop, in fact I nearly broke my neck clambering over a Black Country granny's tartan shopping trolley in my rush to get at it.
This exotic vintage beauty was a mere £3 and matches my favourite bag, a 1970s Pakistani tote I bought for pennies from a jumble sale years ago. I did think of it putting on the Kinky Melon rails...for about a second.... it might be boring old black but it's still a work of art!
I've got a couple of black wide-brimmed hats but neither feel quite right, one is so tight that it leaves a particularly unattractive red crease across my forehead when I take it off and the other is too shallow in the crown which means that if I go out wearing it on a windy day my hand is surgically attached to the brim to keep the bloody thing anchored on my head.
My latest hat isn't in the least bit vintage, its H&M and is still on their website, listed as Premium Quality Wool and priced at £17.99 but cost me just £3. I know £17.99 isn't a fortune but why on earth would you buy something and give it away unworn days later? The £15 I saved is the equivalent of three nights accommodation in Goa or eight pints of lager in Wetherspoons!! Now I've got one well fitting black hat I can donate the other two to the stockroom.
I loved these mad rose gold catseye sunglasses when I saw them on a neighbouring trader's stall over the festival season but, with a collection I struggle to contain in the dressing table drawer, felt £15 was an unnecessary extravagance. Spotting them in the 50p box on the charity shop counter, well....they were meant to be mine!
Like she needs another bangle, Jon said to the chap behind the counter when I asked for a closer look at the textured silver cuff in the display case underneath. You never know, one day there may be a worldwide bangle shortage and my arms will be naked, I replied, handing over my £2 coin. The 1950s ceramic hand was £1.50 in another chazza.
This House of Fraser 100% cotton, pom-pom trimmed duvet set (sorry, I couldn't be arsed with ironing it) was £2.49! It originally retailed at £80.
How about that then? Last weekend I was trading at Wayne Hemingway's Classic Car Boot Sale and just over a week later I'm in possession of a pair of his Red Or Dead shoes. My size (40), unworn and still bearing the original £65 price tag. Cost to me? £3!
More bangles? It would be rude not to! These are papier-mâché and from Kashmir - I know because every Kashmiri shop in every tourist shop in the whole of India have them in their windows. I couldn't resist the wooden frog earrings either. You never know when you'll need some amphibians threaded through your lobes. I remember the parrot earrings from the 1980s - not that I ever had a pair, I didn't get my ears pierced until I was 25 (in 1991). All three were 50p each.
This zingy 1970s Melamine spice set was still in the original wrapping (not Taunton Vale but a cheeky lookalike) and reserved especially for me by the lovely shop manager when I popped into the local hospice shop. It was £1.99 and will go in Gilbert next Summer. The set came with the original labels but, as you know, 1970s Britain was the land that culinary excellence forgot so only offered the choice of thyme, parsley, pepper, sage, ginger and salt!
My heart might belong to Barry M but I'm not adverse to trying new make-up if I find any decent colours in the 3 for £1 bargain basket. All the lipsticks were still sealed - not that I'd be bothered if they weren't. I've bought secondhand make-up ever since I was a teenager and I've yet to contract Syphilis, Bubonic plague or whatever else the hygiene freaks are scared of.
I can't resist a souvenir doll especially a raven haired, kohl-eyed Spanish senorita. My Dad used to bring them back for me from his business trips abroad. As soon as I got a new one I'd get it out of the box, inspect the construction of the skirt and check whether she'd got any knickers on. I wonder if that's where my passion for foreign costumes came from?
See you soon!