Tag Archives: vintage

Nov-el Times

Pinch punch first of the month! It’s November, which means the jumpers and coats, come out of hiding, and the foolishness of Halloween Autumn is officially over. Okay, the temperature’s been telling us its been over for a loooong time, but I lived in hope! Now this isn’t a rant about the weather, and as my friend  Pat correctly pointed out on her facebook status last week; it’s much better to live in a country with lots of rain and cold snaps than to experience regular hurricanes, tornados and earthquakes! My thoughts and prayers are with those who are getting over the worst of Hurrican Sandy, and in particular my lovely family who graciously hosted the most fabulous Christmas in NYC last year.

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Lace & Tweed Event


 Thousands of people turned out to the Spring Lace & Tweed fair, making it one of the biggest Vintage events of the year, so far!  Of course this meant for LOTS of pictures in the L&T booth; making the decision for the ‘best dressed vintage’ shopper a mammoth task! We haven’t forgotten about it, and will be announcing the winner and prizes in due course! So in case you missed it, and for a little taster of why you should NOT miss the next one… enjoy!!!

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If you missed the Lace & Tweed Vintage fair yesterday you missed out on Vintage Dior, Cacharel, Mulberry and more- it was a fantastic day with brilliant performers, wonderful cakes and a selection of some of the best vintage clothes I’ve seen in a long time!!! Look out for pictures from the day, details of suppliers as well as our choice of best dressed vintage shopper! I only intended to be there for the morning, but the day was so fun,  I stayed pretty much until the end.

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Lace & Tweed


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East is a Beast!

*Beast ://: Urban slang relating to something being fantastic or superior.

Saturday morning, I woke Andy with a ‘gentle’ shake, and informed him that we were going  to spend the afternoon at Alternative Fashion Week. He didn’t share my joy. ‘It’ll be fun’ I lied. The truth for him equated to me being forced  to watch an afternoon of ‘match of the day’. ‘Plus we get to hang out with Bobby’ I informed. Bobby, a mutual friend was styling the first of 40 shows.

One eye open, and with tea on his mind, he agreed:  there began the start of a day that turned out to be just a little bit wonderful.

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Damsel in a Dress

January 2010. Flicking through the mire of TV channels, I landed on ‘Soap star to Opera star’ a programme I had no interest in, until Vanessa White of the Saturdays started singing ‘O ‘something’ bambino carro,’ a stunning Italian operatic piece, but I was more interested in her fabulous dress!   It had been over 3 months since Andrew had proposed and I hadn’t even LOOKED at a dress at this stage, as I was planning on wearing my mums.  I saw Vanessa swishing around in a white ruffly number and something in me went crazy. I was transfixed.  Before the credits ran, I had already emailed the production team, the show stylist and two frantic weeks later, thanks to their help, tracked the designer down (under) in Australia.

Unfortunately the dress was out of stock..I was gutted. I prayed someone would return their dress, or that one would turn up in the Boutiques of the Capital. Harrods had one in size 6, but not eating until the wedding, whilst paying full price for the privilege was not an option! Thirty something emails, endless phone calls and Skype dates lead to nothing. I gave up the chase. It had been intense…

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Something for Sunday

Hi-ho hi-ho.. it's off to work I go..

Though abnormally restrained when it comes to high street or designer shops, Vintage is my Kryptonite! I seriously go weak at the knees. The thrill of finding something that is handmade, a ‘one off’, but more importantly that has it’s own story- beats the feeling of purchasing conveyor belt clothing any day! Yesterday (Saturday) was no different. I mentioned the Vintage vs Antique fair in ‘Hometown Glory’, so if you missed it this time- you missed out!

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Bailiffs & Cream

As my in-laws stood at the front door, quivering, facing the two ‘heavies’  demanding to take their car.. my husband, who no doubt had only just surfaced.. came whizzing down the stairs in his boxers to see what the fuss was about- sheepishly retrieving when it came to light  the heavies were actually after him (or us) and graced us with a visit not because he is part of a rival Surrey gang, but for a far more sinister unpaid Council Tax bill. (Insert scary music here).

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