High street – Smigh Street – Charity shops are the way forward…

10 Jan

So a year on and turns out I didn’t burst into flames because I didn’t adorn my body with anything new from the high street, in fact completely the opposite, no I didn’t freeze up, I just changed the way I thought about what I thought I needed all these years. It’s almost quite a relief, It’s freed up much more brain space, more time to think about the finer things in life like tiny dogs dressed up as Mexican men or really gooey cheese.

There were however quite a few times, especially at the beginning where I nearly gave in, times where I wanted a new outfit for a special occasion but unlike many of my other challenges I managed to steer myself away from the high street shops and keep my sticky fingers on second hand charity loot only. As time went on it got much easier not to want to even shop in the high street shops. I’ve found myself only buying what I needed rather than stocking up on clothes which would live in my wardrobe for months on end with the tags firmly attached. I also realized that the clothes I was buying were better quality than anything I was buying on the high street. The rare occasion that I popped into the high street shops (purely for browsing purposes or accompanying friends on their shopping trips) I found that I could only last a tenth of the time I used to spend cruising the rails, I quickly became annoyed with the mound of identical clothes and crowds of people, something was changing and I liked it. I may have even become a tad self righteous.

Towards the end of the year I found myself thinking less about my next shopping binge, which in sale season was weirdly a relief, not having to feel obliged to trek though the rails of reduced tat that no one else wanted to buy. Turns out charity shops have sales too, which are much more of a graceful affair than the high street sales.

So a year of directing myself away from the chains of mass producing high street shops into my local (and not so local) charity shops I feel good about succeeding in my personal challenge. It has most definitely changed the way I shop, I’m spending less money on buying clothes I think I need and thinking more about where my clothes come from and who benefits from my hard earned cash. I would love for everyone to just give their local charity shop a try; you may be very surprised at what you find!

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L(J)ady and the Tramp…

28 Nov

I’m currently walking on the spot to make up for all the lazy people (by people I mostly mean Americans in LA) that never walk more than three meters at a time. They even have a council based drive to try and encourage kids to walk to school called ‘Walk to school Wednesdays’, walk to school every day you lazy little sods. Apart from the lack of walking, LA was mega fun. Even my worries about exposing Lucy to an area with at least a C list celebrity every 100m were ok, my concern stemmed from a recent parcel that she sent to Tinie Tempah, included in the parcel was one of her finest Kipling bags in the hope that he would wear it and provide her with some valuable PR with a note saying ‘so you don’t have to leave anything at your Aunt’s house anymore’. She did however do very well in the presence of any famous faces we saw, excluding approximately 20 minutes or so when she got a little over excited about spotting a Jonas brother at dinner. I was more surprised that anyone over the age of 12 knows what a Jonas brother looks like.

Post Jonas brother excitement I went on the lookout for Californian’s finest charity shops. There was a splendid array of them to choose from but all were very spread out across LA. The most common seemed to be the Goodwill shops. After pinpointing one, we arrived to my delight to many many square feet of absolute top class charity loot. If there had been a corner with a heap of sausage dogs in it I probably would have stayed there until I needed water. It was extremely well organised with men’s, women’s, children’s, shoes and a home section, definitely something for everyone.

With not too much time to lay my sticky fingers on the LA goods I came away with a vintage cream jump suit for only $12 (which in my head is about £6 as I tend to just half the amount in any currency to convert in order to pounds. ) A super stylish Banana Republic trench coat ready for the decent of Summer, a yellow candy striped shirt dress which needs some work on the see-through-ness before wearing. And lastly my most favourite purchase, a pair of gold slip on shoes, amazing that I found a pair to fit me I know, they were amazingly only $5 and had by the looks of it only been worn once in the 80’s.

Even Jonas fan Lucy managed to pick up a pair of tiny sized, large heeled snazzy shoes for 5 American Dollars. I later heard her on the phone to her boyfriend reassuring him that they were strappy and open so able to ‘breath’ the second handed-ness out of them. I did then have to remind her that I had in fact bought a pair of closed toe shoes that had little chance of ‘breathing’ and that this was my life for a year.

After the events of the charity shops the evenings events included visits to some bon bars in LA. Something to note for all the ladies visiting LA is the way men go about chatting women up. It’s very blatant and very frequent. I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with the fact that I looked so dazzling in my charity shop outfits but more to do with the fact that I just happened to be female. The highlight was for sure an American doctor who insisted on showing me all his solo road trip holiday photos on his phone, pausing for far too long on a group of images that showed detailed pictures of the speedometer of his car which to his delight had the same speed count as the temperature outside, fascinating I can assure you. Sadly ‘my’ email address didn’t seem to work when he tried to email all his holiday pictures to me even though he had already shown them to me (slowly and painfully). Apologies to fionaj@hotmail.com who may or may not receive some of the dullest holiday photos on earth from an American Doctor that she has never met. I seem to be projecting some sort of ‘chat me up’ aura at the moment, whilst in Paris during the last few days I kindly gave my parcel of Pain, Jambon and Fromage to a tramp in the park, rather than just thanking me and heading off he decided to sit next to me. After about 15 minutes of trying to communicate with me in a mixture of French and what I think was sign language I finally understood what he actually wanted when he got a pen out of his bag (pulling out socks and a toothbrush in the process) and pointed at my phone. He wanted my number.

The last few days in LA included some full on tourist activity, pretty sure no one else has done a monkey impression next to the Godzilla star on the walk of fame before us. Some pool time, trips to Santa Monica, Venice Beach and Malibu, and seeing a two headed turtle, In this case two heads were definitely not better than one. In between that I managed to whip out a super flowery charity shop dress that I bought a few months back but haven’t managed to find a suitable occasion for. When I put it on Lucy swiftly told me that I looked very ‘Beverly Hills’. When I asked if that was a good thing she assured me it was and much better that looking ‘very Croydon’.

Now the excitement of LA is over. Although the first few days back in London offered up some unexpected and amusing nights out, including dinner at an inappropriate restaurant for the semi Indian royalty company that I somehow found myself in, the music selection of the restaurant was of the rap genre with many inappropriate words, in particular the word P**SY which was said (rapped) at least 53 times in the space of 4 minutes. It was a rather uncomfortable time.

In other charity shop news finds I finally wore the lovely vintage blue and cream dress that I got from a Parisian charity shop a few months ago. Bit of a crap picture but the rest of it is nice I can assure you.

I’m now in Paris again for a few day but sadly do not have enough down time to get any charity action in. Until my next bunch of charity swoops I will be mainly trying to convince my friend to let me dress her baby up as a taco once he / she is born.

Tesco are messing with my mind…

21 Oct

Basically Tesco at Notting Hill Gate have taken it upon themselves to change where everything lives in the shop, life doesn’t make sense anymore, it’s also making it really hard to shop quickly.

In other news I got older….I have to say I was not looking forward to my birthday this year, my initial thoughts were that it was just another year passed where I had yet to own a sausage dog or yet to invent something mega. I did in the end however have a super birthday and even managed to get a Sausage dog (necklace)

In between getting my head around the new Tesco layout I’ve been snaffling many Charity shop finds and falling in love. Before you all get excited it’s with my bike, Margaux. We’ve been getting along like gooey cheese and crust bread. It’s my favourite place to be right now, that is when I’m not crashing into steel barriers. See below for large unattractive lump on my arm alongside a pair of BRAND NEW Top Shop silky tailored shorts picked up from my Favourite Trinity Hospice shop in Notting Hill.

Another Top Shop purchase, a pink silky men’s style shirt, worn as below on a recent trip up norf to see the pending baby which is now bigger than any describable fruit and has moved it’s little self into the torpedo position ready for D Day.

In general my little life has been pretty busy in the last few months, nothing I can really complain about, it’s taken me on a few trips including a recent one to Geneva, in between working, eating chocolate and finding uses for pen knives I cracked out a recent ensemble also bought from Trinity Hospice in Notting Hill. The dress is originally from Mango and set be back £8 and the jacket is a Gucci number. I’m not usually one for designer clobber but I did get quite excited when I found this little gem, especially as they even gave me a Gucci carrier bag to take it away in…..more evidence how ace charity shops, especially in London really are.

The next of my little trips was for pleasure not work, going on a trip for pleasure, sounds a bit dirty, it wasn’t dirty, it was in fact full of wholesome clean fun, in Guernsey. The pleasantries did not however get off to the best start after thinking it was a good idea to drink large amounts of whiskey on an empty stomach the night before and then treating myself to only a few hours of sleep before having to get up at 4.30am to go to the airport, this was NOT in fact a good idea. Shortly before I managed to feel slightly more alive again I snapped my new charity shop scarf which my mum bought for me for my birthday. It’s super Aztec snazzy.

I have to say, Guernsey is bloody ace, I would advise everyone to go. Amongst seeing a woman walking down the street with a parrot on her arm, swimming in the sea and accidently touching a really flabby moob in a club I also managed to scamper into one of the few charity shops on the Island, an Oxfam. It was mega cheap. I swooped up a pair of Levi denim shorts and a pretty camisole style top which I impatiently put on in the toilets of the boat whilst on our way to Herm (Which is also bloody ace).

In other charity shop news I picked up a pair of old school aviators (bargain cost of £1.50) which although lovely are fairly light in the lens which means I can’t perve on random sausage dogs in the street.

In the same shop (YMCA on Queensway) I also got a lovely black Oasis play suit, which according to several comments on the night I wore it looks much more expensive than it really was, in girl terms this means you win.

I’ve hit a Charity shop wall. I’ve planned a cycling trip in Devon and need to kit myself out with appropriate attire, sadly my old skool Marks and Spencer dresses and Gucci blazer won’t really cut it. I’ve been keeping my beady eye out for any of the things I need to tick off my list, however it’s proven tricky. This is where not being able to walk into a high street shop and pick up what you need is hard. I’ve got a few more possible charity shop trips lined up before I set off on my little bike so fingers crossed I can beat the cycling gear / charity shop challenge the universe has set for me.

Boiled goats and crying eggs…

14 Sep

It’s been a busy few weeks with I’m pleased to say lots of travel, something to do with the universe conspiring to give me what I desire, sounds slightly hippy and selfish I know, but read the books I’m reading at the moment and it all makes perfect sense. Stupid universe has yet to drop a pile of sausage dogs on my door step though which puts a massive fault line in my otherwise perfect theories and ideas. Talking of ideas, who thinks it’s a good idea to boil an egg in the morning, pop it in a little bag, travel to the airport, then crack it out and start to enjoy the fruits of the mornings boiling labours just as the plane is about to take off? The answer is…the gentleman sat far too close to us on our outward bound flight to Mauritius. Apart from the smell of egg in what’s essentially a box of stale air for 12 hours and a child that when cried sounded like a goat, the long flight to Mauritius ready for my best charity shop holiday clobber was of course bearable.

The few days we had in the sun were utterly charming with equal amounts of eating, beaching, swimming, some working for the Manatee, laughing and sightseeing.  I don’t think there are such things as a charity shop on the Island so I had to stick to just cracking out the numbers I already own. The first, an oldie but a goodie was the below black flowery summer dress. I actually bought this last year some time from a Charity shop somewhere that I’ve forgotten for about £4. Quite suitable I think for the surroundings of the botanical gardens, which to Elena’s surprise did not need to be housed in a massive Green House on the ‘TROPICAL’ island of Mauritius.

A bit more eating, lounging, and water skiing (which may I add that I would have got up first time if it wasn’t for an unfortunate slip of the bikini, which I did contemplate ignoring just to prove I could do it first time) it was time to go home, just before home time I managed to slip in a full circle Charity shop outfit. The lower I have shown before but the upper is a lovely printed sleeveless denim shirt bought in a charity shop up north for £2.50.

After a long day flight with not much to amuse ourselves with apart from making frog puppets from the complimentary socks (highly recommended form of amusement), it was back to Lundun town before another visit to the north of the United Kingdom to see the baby bump. (Which has now progressed from the size of a Banana to apparently being the size of a foot long Subway Sandwich).  I managed to pop into a quick C-Shop in Cleveleys, mecca for all old people in the north-west for some reason. Ignoring the rising temperatures outside I bought a cream knitted jumper with brown arm patches. One thing about not having the choice of the abundant High Street shops is that you have to get what you like when you can. Me and my new jumper looking rather happy with each other below.  I may as well been in St Tropez with such a scenic back drop, sadly I was at Freeport outlet village with a discount M&S to right and a Cadburys misshapes shop to my left.

I’m now 6 months in and half way through my charity shop project, which has gone unbelievably quick. So far I’ve managed much better than I thought I would. I’ve had a few moments whilst walking though ‘proper’shops with friends and feeling slight pangs of longing for the pretty things on the hangers, but overall I’m actually quite enjoying the restraint that I have to put on myself. I’m still getting mixed reactions when I tell people, some are very supportive and find it really interesting, yet some don’t quite understand why I’m doing it and from the tone of their voices sound slightly disgusted. In general most people assume I’m doing it to save money, which is not the case at all, if I was trying to save money it would probably be cheaper to shop at Primark. I’m doing this to challenge my ingrained habits of buying mass production clothes without thinking about the alternatives or implications of doing so, to force myself to be more creative with my wardrobe and to try and encourage anyone along the way reading my posts to try Charity shop shopping who wouldn’t have normally. I’m not trying to preach to anyone as I’m not exactly a self sufficient machine in the grand scale of the world, I’m just trying to see if I can encourage people to see a different side of charity shops.  So far it’s definitely made me re-think they way I shop and how I think about what I buy, for the better I think.

After the universe did a bit more conspiring in my favour I had to plan a work trip to LA. Pre LA I nipped to Hammertime / smith to see if I could pick any treats for La La Land. I didn’t manage to secure much of interest but did stumble across a Cancer Research shop that seemed to think it was appropriate to  play songs such as the Bah Ha Mens ‘Who let the Dogs Out’ and  Sisqo’s ‘Unleash the Dragon’ at an alarming volume whilst the 80+ old ladies serving at the till looked less than happy. Unlike my empty handed-ness I spotted a  fwabulooossss pair of once worn All Saint leather snazzy stilettos for the Manatee for only 10 bob.

 

At the same time as the universe conspiring so was my petite friend Lucy to come out and meet me for a few days after I’ve finished working, which excited me so. I’ve now landed in LA after a writing this on the flight, it’s 5am and i’ve just woken up starving (nothing unusual) so treated myself to some mini bar pretzels, a cranberry juice andposting this to try and use up a bit of energy which hasn’t worked so off for a run. After a few days of work Miss Lucy Cole will arrive then we have a few days of fun, including of course scouting out some Californian Charity Shops, which in my head will be just like the shop scene in Pretty Woman, except they I’m sure will be more than happy to let me shop there and thankfully I’m not a Hooker.

I forgot my password….

26 Aug
I wish that was the reason why I have been so pants at writing anything in over a month and a half, sadly it’s not. It’s because I lost my pants not my password so I obviously couldn’t write a blog with no pants. Well that and I’ve been busy / lazy /a lot has happened and the sun came out. 
Anyway I’m here now and I’m going to try to cram the past month or so into a lovely little parcel so I can move on with feeling bad about not writing anything and start writing the next part.

Even though I’ve not had any pants to write with I have been continuing to swoop up only Charity shop matter and keeping up with my 2011 promise to myself and the world. I did have a small period of time without buying anything even from charity shops ,  the bank decided to solve world poverty by taking out the outstanding balance on my credit card out of my account without even bothering to text me to let me know, that was fun. I survived though, mainly on living off hummous and pitta bread much to the annoyance of my flat mate.

I’ve made a few trips up north recently; it’s not as grim as you all make out. On a lovely weekend in the not too distant past I chugged up to Leeds to visit my friend and more importantly her dog Alfie (as seen in the photograph below looking natural with a bone). She’s not really into the charity shop vibe but did at first seem quite keen to accompany me on a visit to her local shops in Leeds. To my delight the high street in Bramley was lined with charity shops (even a few that had turned themselves into Vintage style charity shops to make people like her go in them ) Her enthusiasm didn’t last long, The first two shops were spent either wondering through with her arms closely fixed by her side with the exception of pointing  sporadically to things and laughing at them for no reason in particular other than they were in a  charity shop ,  when not laughing at anything she spent her time close by my side just in case any of the second hand clothes decided to pull themselves onto her and take over her life. By shop number three she was starting to loosen up a little and think I cracked her even just a   little by the end of it.
 
  
                                                          Playing on shoplifters morals. Risky.                                                                               
 
  
Alfie ‘Boner’ Turner
 

I’m not quite sure why people find the concept of Charity shops so wrong when most people will happily buy ‘vintage’ or anything from Ebay. I’m hoping that my little experiment will persuade at least a few people to go into a Charity shops and not be scared!  My Charity shop ways have definitely started to rub off on my flat mate aka the Manatee. After taking her into my local Trinity Hospice Charity Shop on Notting Hill Gate (which seems to get better by the week, if you live in N-Hill I would strongly advise you pay it a visit, see fwwwabaloussss shoes I recently bought for only six English pounds as an incentive in the pic with one of Boris’ finest bikes below) she has now taken a few trips unaccompanied and actually purchased some quality loot, a power Whistles dress and shoes, and wrap dress the stuffed Manatee can’t get enpough of and a lovely little shift dress as seen in the casual scene at our front door below. I have to add that the Manatee has not really been built for Charity shops, she’s been built mainly for the Kings Road, Jigsaw (the shop not the killer) and the Sea, she is however slowly changing to love them to my delight. Please see pics below from the latest show of ‘How to look good naked / if you are a Manatee shopping on a Charity shop’ I’ve also projected a 40ft image of her naked with a feather bower onto the side of Big Ben for anyone who’s interested.

                                                                                                                                                                                                        Manatee with a Manatee. Ha.

                                                                                                                                                                                         Just can’t keep away from each other.

                                                                                                                                                                                 The recently converted Jehovah’s Manatee

I’ve also been up to the wondrous world of Blackpool a few times to spend some Q time with some semi-important friends.  The following items were obtained from the seaside town to rival any other – a delightful old school copper pan, scarf (which has in turn been nabbed by both flat mates for social occasions, a clear sign of acceptance) and a cute black and white stripped T-shirt that makes me feel quite French. Evidence below. I think the bike is a welcomed addition to the French look.

In the time since I ‘forgot my password’ I have also started a new job, just a move within the company but I have felt the need to take my work attire up a level (i.e. stop looking shabby in the work place) there are some snappy dressers in my new office, I’ve had a few compliments on some charity shop pieces but not actually told anyone of my little project yet. Not because I’m embarrassed or anything just more because I find it a bit strange to just blurt it out if someone compliments me on a dress, especially as some on the reactions  I’ve had from telling  other people involve pity, confusions and even slight glimpses of disgust. Maybe when someone asked me where I got something from I will tell them my sordid little secret and watch it go down like Primark lead balloon in a Dior showroom. A fav work buy at the moment is an old Marks and Sparks (St Michaels seems to be a re-occurring label in my charity shop finds, their old stuff is bang on trend now) dress which I’ve taken up and in after I was told I looked like Wednesday from the Adams family in it. It’s very quaint with a billion buttons from bottom to top. Here I am casually froloking in my dress and shoes on a bike less pretty than mine.

                                                                                                                                                                                                       The bike pose is getting old already I know.

Other things that I bought include –

A  old people’s home style chair  (minus the urine smell) , I’ve painted the wood and bought some funky Aztec style fabric, just need to cover it now and stop using it to fling clothes  on in my room.. Here is the before image, after image to follow…

 

 A lovely red hat which looks much better on Eddie than me, due to the recent burst of sunshine this has been relegated to my mum’s house alongside all my winter coats (two bin bags / free recycle bags from the hallway in total) I will most probably need them again next week but I’m going to try and keep with the summer theme and stay optimistic / cold until late September.

I made my first trip to a car boot sale of the season this weekend, picking up a super black and white 50’s (ish) style skirt which I have already taken up in preparation for an outing at the Royal wedding this weekend. I’ll try and pull Kate and Will to one side for a picture. And also a yellow cardigan for 25 pennies. I did in my new year rules allow myself to purchase items from Car Boot sales but even better the stall I bought these from was in fact a  charity stall with all money going to the Alzheimer’s society so it was a double win for me and the Alzheimer’s  peeps . If you like unusual pieces of jewellery  I would highly recommend a trip to a car boot sale, my most favourite jewellery has some from car boot sales, this weekend I picked up a Moroccan style silver cuff for 50p and a white stone chain necklace for yet only another 50p.

In the midst of the above I also got my little hands on a 40’s high wasted long skirt which I chopped about 2 foot off to try and catch some rays on my pasty winter legs this weekend. Seen here on a pleasant day on Primrose hill. I promise it was hot enough for me to be in a bikini top, not just being a tart.

So there is my quick summary for my charity shops finds  in the last month or so whilst  trying  to remember  my password. I have a romantic mini break coming up with the Manatee so need to get my holiday clobber on. If anyone sees any swim wear similar to the below please let me know. Many Thanks.

 

End

Please can everyone stop growing up. I’m not quite ready yet. Thank you.

25 Jul

Babies and Engagements, neither apply directly to me which I’m sure the queue of admirers at my door will be pleased to know. It’s very exciting stuff for two of my bessies, Miss S.J Mayson (baby news) and Miss C. Groves (Wedding news).  With the recent news I’ve acquired a new job / soon to be string to my bow. I’m now (will be in approximate 4 months time) responsible for being the most outstanding Auntie a child could wish for, competing with LP and Miss C. Heats. I’ve got my work cut out, firstly LP (air to the world renowned Farmer Parrs of Fleetwood, housing the best and most comical animals in the North-West) has a whole farm at her finger tips to bribe the new arrival with. I have no animals, bar my imaginary sausage Dog to offer. Then there’s Cheatone, she’s already been penned as the ‘Naughty Auntie’ with her sole purpose to explain the ‘Birds and the Bees’, ok so she’s got a few years to grow into her role but it’s a role none the less. I however, live 250 miles from all the action, therefore my new responsibility / competition means I shall be frequenting the delights of the North-West on a monthly basis in the coming months to make sure I get in on the pre-natal events. Apart from bonding with my Bessie over her enlarging abdomen, it also means northern charity shops, some of the best in the land, mainly because the old biddies mark down all the tat that I see as treasure. Good times ahead.

During my ‘May’ visit to see SJ and the ‘bump’, which I’m told is now the size of a Banana, I particularly enjoy measuring ‘our’ new bambino to the size of Fruit, of which I shall be doing right up until the big reveal.  Anyway, during my May visit I gathered a few lovely little charity treats, with special thanks to SJ and Bump for following me around the C-Shops of Fleetwood. I picked up a beach dress which conveniently doubles up as a skirt for my forth coming holiday, pictures to follow post holiday. A very smart and equally as pretty polka dot skirt, which after a quick pit stop to see Grandma Alice and Eddie on my way back to London was matched with a striped jumper, courtesy of Alice (of which I was informed was also bought from a charity shop)  Both Old skool Marks and Sparks numbers.  The complete outfit below whilst in Milan.O on a recent work trip.

 

Some red jeans also made the cut (look better than they sound). A super Charity trip, until I saw ‘The Sprouter’. I have a strong aversion to sprouting things, I think it stems back from an unfortunetly close encounter with a man on the tube once that had something growing / sprouting from his arm, I’ve never really got over it. This made me feel a little ill. If anyone is interested I’m sure it’s still sitting on the shelf in Oxfam in Fleetwood. It’s so wrong, I hope I never own anything called ‘the sprouter’ in my lifetime.

 

All the news of people getting on with being grownups made me feel rather strange.  I had a brief spell of thinking that perhaps I should be growing up, then I spent possibly  too much valuable time ’Planking’, it was then I realised it’s a good job I’m not subjecting some poor soul to spending the rest of their life with me just  yet OR bringing a human into the world, I think I’ll stick to the cheap childish laughs for now and work on my ‘Best Auntie’ moves and on convincing Char to get her wedding night lingerie from a charity shop .

In other news I’ve just been given a small packet of crisps from the air hostess called ‘SpudMuckers’ I don’t know why but I think this sounds disgusting. I’m writing this while on a plane on my way back from Milan, the Italian woman in the row opposite me has been having panic attacks from the runway, the strong turbulence  doesn’t seem to be helping, I offered her some of my Rescue drops but I don’t think she understood that I was actually trying to help, I think she thought I was trying to set some sort of bomb off in her mouth with my ‘illegal’ liquids. More fool you Italiano woman, the rescue drops would have sorted you right out.

I’ve had 5 days lapping the Italian sun, three for work, two for pleasure. Apart from begin in a bellisimo hotel and generally having a lovely time, the best thing about Milan has to be the amount of Daschunds on show, on average I’d say I saw one every 18 minutes. They were all good, apart from one really angry one that had a go at me, possibly because I was trying to mess with him in the street. Apart from the above dotty, striped charity shop combo, I also cracked out a recent buy one night for dinner. A floaty black and flowery shirt. Went down a treat with all the Italians. Whilst wearing my floaty black and flowery shirt at dinner (see picture below, then imagine me with a sligtly shocked face) something rather unusual happened, I was given a ‘lady menu’(for anyone who is unfamiliar with a ‘lady menu’ it’s the same as a ‘gentleman’s menu’ just without any prices). Not that unusual considering I am a lady but still it did actually shock me. This still happens apparently. I was torn between enjoying the feeling of such a traditional custom and ripping of my bra and burning it in the middle of the restaurant. In the end I kept quiet and enjoyed the moment.

 

Between seeing as much of Milan as possible, wearing myself out and eating lots of delicious food, I also managed to track down a Milanese charity shop. This was a worthwhile find. I would highly recommend this shops to any vintage / charity savvy shoppers visiting Milan. It was called Humana Vintage located a couple of minutes walk from the Duomo of Via Dogana, aptly named with all the sausage dogs about. The profits go to Humana People to People (HPP) international development projects in Mozambique, working in Southern Africa in the fight against poverty and HIV/AIDS. It’s like a trendy Oxfam Vintage shop. It was full of real vintage pieces mainly from the 70s for men and women. I left with a vintage red dress with lovely lace detail. I have a few mods to make of it but will most probably crack it out on my hols so will get a picture of it up soon.

 

In between the excitement of getting my new bike up and running I’ve managed to  unpacked my Milanese charity shop treasure and the Gelato I’ve brought back and re-pack again for a short trip for such a long flight trip to Mauritius to catch some rays. Obvs will be cracking out some of my more scantily clad charity shop pieces whilst planking around the island.

Once Upon A Time….

21 May

…Girl walks into a shop (charity kind). Girl spots snazzy shoes (vintage Bally Chelsea boots). Girl realises they are four sizes too small for her (size four) Girl buys them anyway (purely because they are too good to be left on a shelf and only £6). Girl passes them on to her tiny footed friend (Lucy).Tiny footed friend hands them back as they are too big (tinnier footed that I thought and most probably tinnier than a borrower) Girl tries second tiny footed friend (flatmante Mcmon) The shoe fits, que Cinderella moment avec quality leather boot. Girl has an idea* They live happily ever after…..

*idea – I could become a charity shop personal shopper for any charity conscious rich , time poor, things about town ??? Yes? No?

Flatmate with the feet that fit

 

Shoes that fit (not me)