Psychedelic patchwork and other nesting nonsense

I've checked in the diary and it is as I suspected, I haven't been away for the weekend at all this year yet. Yes, I've been out and about, and I've had visitors to stay, but the luxury of being in my own home, and not having to travel in the utterly dismal weather has been fantastic. I did seven years of travelling up and down the motorways very, very regularly and I now feel almost phobic about driving long distances.

So, what have I spent all this home time doing? Well, we've made progress on that bedroom! It's only been a year. It's not entirely finished, but we have varnished floors, freshly painted gloss work, undercoated wardrobes, and new curtains. Ta dah!

1940s barkcloth showing Spanish scenes, Senors and Senoritas! I had to have it. I lined the curtains with some recycled bright pink heavy duty cotton, which cuts out all the light. The only problem is, I don't seem to want to get up in the mornings.

I've also turned my hand to patchwork for the first time in over 30 years. I did it old school, you know, squares of paper, tacked in then sewn by hand. You probably think I'm mad, but I did it watching the box and found it rather addictive.

There's a couple of jumpsuits in there, one entirely handmade, the other altered, a dress which was handmade and one which I never finished. I haven't decided what to do with it yet.

Talking of patchwork, here's the next thing on the sewing pile. A pair of the most fantastic 1970s psychedelic trousers which need a little bit of reining in. There's too much fabric in the legs, which I keep tripping over in a most indelicate fashion. If I keep them like that, my obituary could read 'Death by voluminous loons' and there's just no call for that kind of trouser tragedy, is there?

I had a rather lovely week off work during which I finally started putting some pictures up on the walls. This little black and white photo with the boy and the donkey has found its resting place above our bed.

Pocahontas is in the spare bedroom. That frame needs painting, but the picture is just so romantic, with the moon reflecting on the water. I wanted hair like that when I was a kid. Whenever my mum cut our hair, I would try to stick it back on with sellotape. It never ended well.

They say we all turn into our mothers in the end. Well, this weekend I hacked my own hair off. The cycle is complete.

January, February, I don't understand

Well hello there!

I've been away a while, during which time a massive organisation has skilfully relieved me of my domain name. Sort of like a cyber Artful Dodger. Of course I could always buy it back, there is an auction. Highest bidder wins. But that way possible bankruptcy lies, so instead I formulated a cunning plan, sort of like a cyber Baldrick, which involves a slight change of name for the blog. It is now a co.uk, instead of a com. That suits me just fine.

So, what have I been up to? I had a birthday, which prompted some lovely parcels of joy from Curtise...

A gorgeous folksy apron, orange gloves and a little treen deer letter rack. All just perfect. I have a twin for that deer rack, so now I can have them in more than one room.

...and Vix

I had been admiring Vix's Madeira handbag for ages, so she sent me the baby twin, a wonderful hand embroidered Madeira apron, a notebood from India and a hat that makes me smile every time I put it on. It matches my vintage Astraka fake fur jacket exactly!

Talking of which, at Christmas, my sister and I had a get together involving an impromptu photo shoot when she came in wearing said jacket and hat. What do you think? Hot stuff, isn't she? She looks like she's just walked out of the pages of a 1960s magazine.

Into the new year, I've been really enjoying nesting, cooking, and doing a bit of sewing. Here's a shift dress I made from a tablecloth Vix gave me when we met up in November. It has been a bit of a wardrobe staple ever since.

Somebody else who has been enjoying nesting has been my friend Serena. Here she is gracing the pages of Ideal Home magazine! If you want to see her wonderful little house, here is the tour I did a while ago.

They COULD organise a p*ss up in a brewery

Another weekend, another wedding. This time the venue was a brewery in rural Lincolnshire. We get around with a little help from our friends. 

Although it's right next door and although I've ventured in and around the county, I've never really felt like I had a feel for it, so I enjoyed the journey, just looking out of the car window and taking it all in. 

Lincolnshire is big on farming. The land is flat and open, while the sky is big. And practically every village ends with the suffix -by: Candlesby, Salmonby, Grimsby, Spilsby, the list goes on. What does that tell you? It tells you that this is VIKING country: -by originally meant a farmstead, but the places grew into villages and towns, taking the suffix with them.

The villages and towns are very pretty, mainly Georgian with lovely little period high streets. Everywhere there are little red brick cottages with jaunty paintwork.

We stayed in Skegness, also known as SkegVegas because of the amount of entertainment arcades, or just plain Skeg, which I think is used as a descriptor.

It's considered a joke in bad taste by many. The coastal town that they forgot to close down. But lights like that always get me a bit excited. I guess I just got in the wrong queue when they were handing out good taste. 

The town strapline is 'it's bracing' and this is the figure which demonstrates that fact. 

That's what I look like on the dance floor when they play 'Dancing Queen'. 

The last time we went to a wedding, dear Helga said in her inimitable fashion, 'What the buggery did you WEAR darling?!' so this is for you! We went as twins. His 'n hers matching Hawaiian jumpsuit and shirt. 

I made that little handbag out of some spare fabric when I made alterations to another Hawaiian jumpsuit.

Rock a hula everyone!

Poser turned clothes detective: it's all about the labels

This old dog has learned a new trick! I've figured out how to pose, use a tripod and do a self timer, all at the same time. My life is complete.

To answer your question, yes, I did buy the dress! I love it! It is so glamorous and after a week of calorie counting, I managed to get my belly enough under control that it isn't all I see when I wear it. The fabric is beautifully soft. It is woven into a sort of padded effect brocade with a soft yellow silk and a gold thread. I particularly love the bow feature on the front.

When I saw the label, it looked familiar, but I couldn't quite figure out why. 'Global, styled in Paris, made in the British Crown colony of Hong Kong.'

But then when I got home, all was revealed. It was the same label as another great favourite of mine, this green and gold beauty.

Unstyled, unaccessorised. Just me and the dress. I was in a rush, needed to get my act together to go and see my mum and go to the supermarket. Poser, clothes detective, carer, housewife. Then there's tennis later and making tea. Athlete and cook. Wow, these labels are making me sound good.

I was a bit puzzled, because when I held them both up together, the yellow dress, which is a size 14 looked to be the same size as the green, which is a size 12. 

A bit of detective work and I have discovered that the yellow one has been taken up and taken in. Mystery solved. I have spent rather a happy half an hour being a vintage clothing detective! That degree in Fashion Textiles has come in useful after all.

Anyway I did a bit more digging and it turns out that the heyday for garments bearing this type of label was the late 1950s and early 1960s. Labour and fabrics were very cheap, Hong Kong was keen to manufacture and so a clothing industry boomed, which focused on Western styles that could be exported. These Asian exports were well finished and had that famous beadwork which was so loved in the 50s and 60s. Apparently a lot of unknown designers went there to work and gain experience. 

How about you, what labels describe the roles you have played today? Have you got any dresses made in the British Crown Colony of Hong Kong? Give us a twirl!

We took Nottingham by storm or was it the other way round?

Oh, we had the best time, Vix, Curtise, Annie, Serena and I. 

The calm before the storm. A nice cuppa at Hopkinson's whilst waiting for the Birmingham contingent to arrive. Serena was a first timer at one of our bloggy get-togethers, but she fitted in just perfectly.

Vix looked a gazillion dollars in this dress. She is probably the only person who could have got into it, since she is the size of a pixie. We had a bit of fun with the changing room which is just a hoop with a bit of fabric dangling. Getting changed in there was an adventure. 

Present giving. We were as giddy as a gang of drunk women. Oh OK, by that time we WERE a gang of drunk women.

There were so many presents it was like Christmas morning. 

Dutch clog salt and pepper shakers, groovy fabric and amazing Dortmund scene with OBDs, from Vix.

Lovely home made soap and card from Serena.

Fabulously soft vintage house coat and cuckoo clock brooch from Curtise.

Gorgeous notebook and necklace from Annie.

It was cold and wet outside, but the reception at the wonderful BAKLASH couldn't have been warmer. Meg looked after us beautifully.

With a special offer of a bag of clothes for £10, it was like supermarket sweep in there. Meg told us she had managed to get 8 items in a bag before, but I'm sure Vix blew that record away. We kept going round and round the rails, until we had practically assembled all the stock.

There was just time for one last drink by the station before we said our farewells. In Curtise's case we said it a few times, because she kept popping up as she did a crazy circuit looking for her train. She made it with seconds to spare. There was a wholesale gasp of relief from the rest of us as we saw her jump on.


What a day!

Andalucia part 3

Thank you for bearing with me. This is the final installment of our Spanish adventure. 

A wonderfully authentic bar. Hams over the counter and horse pictures on the walls, along with an enormous boar and a stuffed deer. Sugar sachets on the floor where they were discarded after the men came in for their coffee. Everybody said hello to everyone else.

We had a cheese and tomato crostini and a coffee apiece. In total it came to 5 euros, which is £4.00. I said 'cinco?' in surprise. She nodded and I said 'solo?!' She nodded again and smiled. As we left we heard all the locals retelling the story and copying the intonation and pitch of my 'solo?!'

On the way back, there was a little old lady sat on that chair chopping beans to the sound of flamenco on the radio, while her cat lazed in the shade. Like everyone, she offered a greeting. 

I tried my best Spanglish out on everyone I could. When it comes to foreign languages, I know no shame and make a little go a long way. I had a lovely chat with an elderly couple in Granada. When I said 'Buenos dias' to them they turned to me and smiled as though I was the person in the world they most wanted to see right then. Such kindness transcends language. The man in the supermarket was really chatty when I said 'hola!' with a grin. Wanted to know all about us. I forgot the word for England, but we got there in the end.

This little doggy was out for an evening stroll with a group of local people. It was running after us and jumping up to say hello. We were laughing and talking to it. The people pointed at the dog and said 'verrrrrrrrry sweeeet'.

Did I enjoy myself? Yes, I never wanted to leave.

Andalucia part 2

Alhama de Granada, set high up in the mountains. Such was its desirability that when the Moors lost it to the Spanish in 1482,  Abu Al-Hacen famously let out a lament of sorrow '¡Ay de mi Alhama!'  I felt a bit the same when it was time to leave.

Hibiscus in the grounds of the Hotel Vinuela where we went for a posh lunch.

In the afternoons, the first clue would be the sound of bells, and then they would appear, led by a goatherd. They are quite playful, fighting each other, bleating and occasionally almost jumping. Goat's cheese is a speciality in the area.

Beautiful ceramics. If I was coming back by car, I would be laden down with them.

Seems it's not just mad dogs and Englishmen out in the midday sun

The sun setting over our olive groves

Time for a trip indoors I think. Want a peek?