And so to bed...

Hi all,

I wanted to post a quick pic showing some of the little DIY projects and nik-naks I have bought for our bedroom recently. As you know I am always saying how much we are doing on the house, so I thought I'd show you a little bit of our handiwork.

The top picture shows all the trinkets that are on top of  a drawer unit in our bedroom. At the back you can see a round item, not sure how to describe it because I still don't really know what it is but whatever it's original purpose, I painted it silver and it now sits proudly overseeing our lovely room. It was a dark brown wood finish originally that was 50p in Dunelm, one of my favourite shops. I immediately snapped it up, knowing that I could do so something with it. It may have been a doorstop or purely an ornament, I am not sure but I am really pleased with the finished silver result. 

The photo on the left shows a vase and a lamp that were both bought from separate charity shops but seem to match perfectly as they are both slightly Art Deco in style. The lamp was £5 from The British Heart Foundation furniture store in Newport. I love their shops, they are full of furniture and unwanted items awaiting adoption and revamping. The vase came from The St Davids Hospice shop in Bulwark, costing £4. John had to pop to the hire shop next door to arrange some scaffolding for the house and so I was granted 5 minutes of rummaging time while he was occupied. 

The last photo shows a small wall unit that was originally a mug stand. I am ashamed to say that I cannot remember the specific charity shop this came from but it was purchased on my lovely day that I spent with Jo last week in Wells. It was just a natural wood stain so I painted it with black gloss paint to make it more befitting of our bedroom. It now houses an old photo of my lovely Nan, the mini Solo that Hollie made me and a little trinket box.

So there you have it, slowly bit by bit I am filling every space in the house, much to John's dismay. We did buy a big house originally but it is slowly shrinking in size. I read something recently though by a fellow rummager that I thought was nice and apt - "I am obsessed with surrounding myself with beautiful things".  That should be my tag line. And thanks to the wealth of charity shops out there, many of the beautiful things I like, come very, very cheap. 

Look out the Magg-ies back...

What a brilliant day. Yesterday I turned my back on DIY and all things home improvement for a day in Wells with my lovely friend Jo. She's been telling me for a while that I would love it there for all it's charity shops and little independent boutiques. And love it I did.

Wells is a very pretty place located on the edge of the Mendip hills. It is often described as the smallest city in England due to the presence of its cathedral but it only has a population of around 11,000 people. It has a thriving market town feel to it and is very popular with the tourists all year round. One of which was me.....a day tourist at least.

A selection of second-hand emporiums waited to greet me with open arms, enticing me in to enter and browse. I bought a few lovely pieces that I shall write about at a later date but I couldn't wait to tell you about one place in particular (that we wouldn't even have found if it wasn't for Jo getting us a little lost in search of a car park),  the Wells Trading Post.

I could have happily died and gone to heaven right there.

It was as if all my favourite things had had a discussion and decided to group together purely for my amusement and bewilderment, all under one roof. I could have spent hours rummaging.

I think Jo knew she was in trouble by the wide-eyed smile that took over my face. I am just so happy that we came upon it, I love how life seems to smile on you at certain moments like that as we could have easily missed it.  It had everything from items of furniture, clocks, ornaments, mirrors, collectables and even clothing. For those of you that adore that vintage look to your home, your search is over.  Go forth and splurge because I doubt you will find such a wonderful array of items anywhere else.

The store is set out over three floors, each one offering another feast for your eyes. And here I go with that sentence again, amongst the rails of beautiful vintage clothing I fell in love with an item.  Due to lack of funds however and the rough budget I had given myself (and already spent), purchasing said item was not an option and I am definitely not one of life's great hagglers. But, to my delight (and slight guilt), Jo offered to purchase it for me for my birthday and we also got £5 knocked off the price. The fateful day is a month or so away yet but she said she'd keep it for me and give it to me on the day. I didn't think the day could get any better really. I won't tell you what it is, I shall leave it until my birthday and then show you some photos that will do it justice. But needless to say, it's typically me and not your average piece of clothing and Jo has already specified, I am not to wear it in her presence. 

I'm hoping that was a joke. 

Anyway, something that I did buy myself was this gorgeous red take on my original Maggie bag. If you have previously read about my favourite black bag you will know what I mean but for those that haven't, it's style is reminiscent of the handbags that our esteemed prime minister of old, Margaret Thatcher used as her accessory of choice. It's simple vintage style and clean lines just screams class and I love them. I also have a cream one and if I ever spot other colours, I shall keep on collecting. They also make me think of Grace Kelly and the golden age of Hollywood starlets that sported headscarves and silk gloves with their oh so suggestive tight pencil skirts and their button through blouses. I appreciate that they are a far cry from our dear Maggie but they were also patrons of that perfect little bag.

It's just the deep red but I was hoping to find but until yesterday, I had been unsuccessful in my quest.  It was £12, a little more than I would normally spend but it's such lovely condition and just what I had been after, that I blew my budget once more. 

And I fear that if I return to this amazing Aladdin's cave in the future, no budget will cover what I would like to spend. I urge everyone within a sensible distance to pay it a visit. 

Give a little, take a little...

Since buying our house, John and I seem to find ourselves regular visitors to the tip. The endless stream of rubbish, debris and unwanted cargo ensures that we are diamond customers of our local waste recycling facility. 

But on one recent occasion, I actually made a withdrawal from the site, not just a normal deposit. This lovely painted bar mirror was sitting lonely on the side awaiting whatever fate the centre had for it. The usual thing happened.....my face lit up, big smile appeared and I went over and tentatively asked about the future of the item. To my joy, the site worker in question told me I could take it if I liked it, after all that's still recycling isn't it? 

John's face however did not share the same amount of joy as he quipped that he has never known anyone to walk away from the tip with something. I haven't yet decided on a permanent home for it, possibly the kitchen once we have re-modelled it (a long way off yet). I had always hoped I'd find an old vogue-style mirror or some kind of fashion related one, maybe advertising a perfume or some such luxury item but for now I will take an alcohol-related one. 

It's fascinating to see what people take to the tip. Obviously the essence of it is disposal of unwanted goods where our local council then takes responsibility for its demise but me being the hopeless romantic, likes to wonder of the origin and history behind what is discarded. Old toys, bikes, furniture and so on. I wonder how much stuff is taken there that could be given to charity shops for others to enjoy and where charities could financially benefit.  There  is a large sign on the approach to the site advertising their recycling rate, usually around 60-70% which is very impressive and necessary in our "throw-away" age. The amount of rubbish we create and get rid of is scary. John and I are consistently surprised at just how much we can generate as a couple and we are ardent recyclers ourselves.  The issue of the environment and our continued abuse of it is such a scary topic. It's so important for everyone to take on the pledge and do their bit. Our house is filled with up-cycled, re-cycled and renovated pieces because I love the idea that you can give new life to an object that may have otherwise been destined for landfill. And with it comes that sense of satisfaction knowing that you have transformed an item, giving it a rebirth. 

So it may be worth asking yourself the question.....do you do all you can to recycle and re-use?

 I hope so. 

On a separate note, my gorgeous dog is asleep in the background of the picture, most displeased with the current run of hot weather we are having. I love it, his fur coat does not. It is lovely to think that this year, if the nice weather continues, we will be able to enjoy it in our new home and make full use of having a lovely garden for the first time.  We may just have to purchase a paddling pool for Solo! 

True Grit...

I blame Kevin Bacon and Lori Singer for my fascination with Cowboy boots.  I adored the film Footloose as a teenager (and still do today) and will always remember the scene where Lori Singer puts on her red Cowboy boots after being with her then wayward boyfriend up to no-good in the woods.  "My daddy hates these boots", she exclaimed as if that gave her more reason to wear them.  And without going into my family history, those words rang true with me as I had a particularly tormented relationship with my own father.  And no doubt, he too, would have hated those boots.

So, I scoured the land high and low for a pair never quite finding that perfect pair and finally found them in France of all places when I was spending my wonderful year as a Teaching Assistant in St Raphael.  It was a year spent in blistering heat and despite their impracticality for the weather, they had to be mine.  It must have been a moment of frivolity too because they came with a 100 euro price tag (as did everything in the south of France).  The only other pair of shoes that have cost that much were my wedding shoes and then it still killed me to hand over such a stupid amount of money (by the way, I have lost those shoes since the house move, something that is vexing me greatly but that is for another time).

So, there I was, owner of a beautiful pair of red cowboy boots ready to burst into song or dance à la Footloose at a moments notice.  The kids in school thought it was hilarious, I wore them non-stop despite the fact my poor feet were baking in the heat and the majority of the school was in flip-flips.

They are still treasured today but they now have several brothers and sisters as my cowboy boot family has morphed into 6 pairs.   The newest additions being the ones below..

£7.25 from a charity shop here in Caldicot and a perfect fit to boot.

I started thinking about the origin Cowboy boots and decided to do a little research.  There is no definitive claim as to who designed them originally but it is thought that after the American Civil War, when cowboys were back to herding cattle across the beautiful plains of North America, they went to their cobblers with some suggestions of how better their boots could serve them.  Their feet needed protection not only from the elements but things like brambles, snakes, rocks and needed to be hardy and comfortable enough for long journeys in the saddle.   Many prototypes were made, each one individual to the cowboy himself until a more general design was upheld.  The one we know today that has become somewhat of a fashion icon with tough, colourful leathers and detailed stitching is a nod to the original work-horse boot that it once was and still is today for our modern-day cowboys no doubt. 

They are worn by models and celebrities alike, Kate Moss and Sienna Miller favour theirs with floaty dresses reminiscent of a visit to Glastonbury Festival (on a dry day of course). I like to keep it simple and wear mine with jeans usually. At this point, I should probably point out that I was in fact wearing a pair of Cowboy boots when I recently hurt my back.  Beautiful to look at but absolutely no grip whatsoever! Not on a very mossy outdoor step anyway. 

 If you do an Internet search for them, the array of designs is truly impressive, as are their prices so being able to find them nestled in charity shops, is for me, a real find.  I no longer have a spare 100 euros to give away to decorate my feet in such luxury. 

£7.25 is a much more respectable price to pay.  

Hidden Gem...

Yet again I find myself neglecting my blogger duties as I attempt to deal with every day life. I have returned to work after my stint at home with a bad back and it is as if I was never away.  John is working tirelessly to get the en-suite finished in our bedroom and is having various meaningful relationships with things like copper piping and cement board.  In a bid to ensure that he never sits still, he also started a new project of decorating his youngest daughters room so that she has a nice peaceful sanctum of her own when she comes to stay.  And, I am pleased to report that apart from one last piece of wallpaper it is all but finished and looks truly lovely. A melange of pale pinks and lilacs, Eiffel Towers and beautiful french calligraphy dancing all over the walls.  I am quite excited about her seeing it this weekend for the first time.

But, home improvements aside, I wanted to get back into writing my posts.  It is a welcome distraction from the cut-throat world of retail in which I work, and the DIY SOS that I come home to at night.

So if you are sitting comfortably,  I shall begin.

This little find turned out to be somewhat of a surprise....

I have been looking for a new watch for a while, ever since my lovely husband stepped on my beloved watch by accident. 

He kindly offered to replace it for me but unfortunately it was a charity shop find (of course) and had no branding so there was no way to acquire another one. I am sure I blogged about when I first started out as I was so pleased when I came upon it. Anyway, I have been looking to fill the void on my wrist for some time but not found one as worthy.

I found this watch on the lovely mother-daughter day that I mentioned in my last post. It was hiding at the back of a jewelry display cabinet and was priced at £4.25 from the Weston Hospice Care shop, in Weston-super-Mare, my hometown. 

You may think this is very plain and not particularly special but I thought it was a classic design. It will serve me well for work and the two rows of diamanté crystals will make it easily transferable to the evening. 

And the added extra? When I did a little research on the particular brand and style, I was amazed to find that the little stone just above noon is in fact a diamond! So my little find is now all the more cherished and adorns my wrist with pride.

Proof again that you really can find some amazing little treasures if you look hard enough.  People know not what they give away!

The "Inner" You...

I cannot believe it is Saturday already.  Despite having spent almost two weeks off work, it seems like the time has flown by in the briefest of whispers.  I will be back to work on Monday.  Maybe not running around at my normal speed but my back is definitely on the mend and mobility has at least increased.

I have however, been making the most of my time off (within the boundaries that a cracked vertebrae will allow).  My "brain food" books arrived from Amazon so I have been educating myself in the ways of Greek Mythology and  Astronomy.  I love the learning environment and increasing my knowledge any chance I get and this extra time off gave me a chance to catch up on two subjects that I have been wanting to learn more about for some time.

Another good thing about being off work? My good friend Jo crossing time and space to visit me in  Wales this week.  We spent a really lovely day together.  We rarely get lazy, quality time like that, shame that a cracked bone forced the issue!

She brought me a magazine that I never read before "Psychologies" (Caldicot is a bit light on Vogue subscribers) and I am so grateful that she did. I have often seen it in shops but always been a bit skeptical and never actually picked one up.   I tell myself that I am "not that deep", but it wasn't full of the high-brow, journal-style articles I was expecting.  Just lots of interesting and thought provoking articles about issues that we face day to day as we trundle along this thing called life.

I was particularly interested in one article that talked about "dressing for who we really are" and the argument that clothes are not just a cover up of our nakedness or protecting us from the elements.   It really hit home to me personally as I have always thought along those lines, probably from a very young age if that's possible. Clothes for me are about expression, showing your inner-you to the real world and ultimately having fun with fashion.   It talked about being true to yourself, letting your "inner-light" shine through in how you dress each day. Olivia Martin, who runs a design agency was the subject of the article and there were some photos of how she expresses herself through her dress. She looked amazing. Fearless, confident, eccentric, fun.  I was instantly envious.

She put together outfits (as seen above - excuse the not so great photo) such as bottle green silky trousers, a baggy slogan t-shirt and a long beaded patterned cardigan, a very plain loose fitting linen dress with an amazing hat, scarf and bag (none of which matched) but she still looked incredible.   Working where I do (and despite that I work in fashion retail), I feel like I have lost that exciting inner-me that once existed.  The girl who would dare to wear a tutu on a first date or a cobalt blue jumpsuit to Pizza Express before jumpsuits were even à la mode.  Having to wear a uniform has stifled this inner person as I must conform to wearing products that are pre-determined for my work.   I have a certain level of adaptation I can use I suppose in terms of accessories but not much else.

The article went on to talk about Dressing without Fear....some of the pointers are listed below:

• allow your creativity to overcome your self-esteem
• laugh at yourself while experimenting (I am a huge advocate of this, laugh at yourself first and beat the others to it!)
• collect and wear things that make you smile (again, hugely important)
• dress to counter or enhance your mood
• compare yourself to how you were yesterday - no other comparisons
• and aim for originality, not perfection. Originality is achieveable.   

Unfortunately, age changes who we are and how we dress whether we like it or not. Maybe not our spirit or imagination but our parameters change.  Life's wants and needs are different as we get older and less "playful" opportunities present themselves (certainly in terms of tutu wearing ones!).  Reading this has inspired me though. It has reminded me of how important my sense of dress is and how by hiding in jeans and jumpers as I have been, its hiding the real me.  Yes, I have been ill so I wouldn't expect to be find myself in my vintage finery during this period but it has made me re-think for the future. I am going back to work on Monday, but before I do, this weekend I will try and spend some time in my amazing dressing room (if John moves his tools that are currently residing there
 ready for starting on our en-suite), just playing around with different (age suitable) looks to see if I can "re-find" myself.  I am going to ignore the little demon on one shoulder that's saying "you are too old, you can't get away with that anymore!" and I'm going to listen to the other one that's saying "go on, put it on, think how amazing and confident you will feel!".

I cannot keep blaming the ageing process for me not being myself anymore. Ageing is inevitable for sure but I am not quite ready to be written off as "nondescript" just yet.  Everyone should let their individuality shine, surely that is how we leave our footprint on the world?  After all, where would Elizabeth Hurley be without that safety-pin dress or Katherine Hepburn without her androgynous trouser suits.   We owe it to ourselves, inner and outer, to shout about who we are. Nobody else is going to do it for us.

So, in honour of this new attitude, I wanted to share a picture of a vintage dress that I bought on a recent scouting trip in Bristol centre. I posted recently about the pop-up shop that I found and some items that I bought there.....this is the final piece. A gorgeous blue evening dress that looks like it has just stepped off the set of dynasty, shoulder pads and all. It was £15 and despite the funny shape it appears in photos, it fits like a glove when worn. This WILL require a bit of confidence to pull it off but hey.  That is the whole point about having fun with fashion n'est pas?

The Red Shoes...

The Red Shoes is a somewhat dark fairy tale that was written by Hans Christian Anderson, the story then being loosely brought to life in a 1948 British feature film starring Moira Shearer and Anton Walbrook.

The tale tells of a peasant girl that was adopted by a rich older lady after her mothers death. The girl tricks her adoptive mother into buying her a new pair of red shoes "fit for a Princess", and promptly refuses to be parted from them, she even wears them proudly to church. Eventually, the shoes take over her life and she begins to lead a selfish  existence, only having love for the shoes and nothing or no one else. Ultimately (and rather sinisterly), the shoes take control and lead her to dance and dance and never stop, to the point where she begs to have her feet cut off just to rid herself of this "curse". 

I was always fascinated by the grim tale when I was younger but it didn't stop me longing for a pair of my own red shoes. Dorothy didn't help either with her sparkly pair! 

Now I have around 20 pairs ranging from burgundy and scarlet, and from pillar box red to crimson. Different styles, heels and purposes. None of which have thankfully taken control (as yet) and led me a merry dance. 

Red to me, as for many others, symbolises confidence, love, passion and happiness.  My stepfather would argue it prompts aggression however and grumbles every time either my mum or I wear it. All I know, despite the family conflicts it provokes, is that I instantly feel better when I am draped in that colour, more so than any other hue. Why? I don't know. I have always been attracted to it and probably always will. I am, after all, a Leo and we are not usually the shy and retiring folk that like to blend into the background with the grey and navy set.  That's not to say that I use it to specifically stand out and promote myself either. It is simply a gorgeous colour. To me, it's not worn enough and I think we all have a responsibility to colour our little part of the world, wherever that may be. 

These particular chaussures rouges are my newest acquisitions and were kindly bought by my lovely mum a few weeks ago when we spent a lovely mother-daughter day together.  We found them in the RSPCA charity shop in my home town of Weston-super-Mare. Originally from Topshop, that great British stalwart that supports the fashion addictions of our young generations (I, am sadly no longer a devotee but for their colourful and good quality footwear), they cost only £5.

 They're brand new, never worn and much loved. 

It's important to have passions though don't you think? Whether it be a pair of red shoes, dancing or even just a good cup of tea. 

Sometimes it's the littlest of things that can bring you the biggest of joys.