New reading material!

Don't you just love it when you get an email from Ebay to say your item has been dispatched? You patiently wait a day or two, and frantically check the post as soon as you get home from work to see if your items has arrived. Only  to find a big, red, ugly piece of card from the Royal Mail.

Sorry we missed you

As if that isn't bad enough, I received my one of these over the bank holiday! Usually they state to wait 24 hours before coming to collect from the depot, but thanks to the bank holiday I had to wait 72 hours before I was allowed access to my goods!

Bah!

Anyway, Wednesdays are late closing at the depot, so Sis and I hopped in the Clio and drove on up straight after work. The handover was swift, and I soon had hold of my new book, after a recommendation from Land Girl 1980. I very much look forward to reading this one. The other book pictured was a spur of the moment buy from Ebay, from a lovely old lady that was having a clear out. That one arrived with no trouble, and no red cards from Her Majesty's Royal Postal Service. I started reading it on the weekend, and it is a very pleasant and honest collection of memories.

Spring Cleaning, in August

Trying to find an outfit for a day or night out has always been a stressful event for me. But more recently it's been made even worse . . . having clothes still living in laundry bags after moving house. Nothing wearable wants to be found, everything that is wearable is dirty.

Thank goodness for the Bank Holiday Weekend!

Three days off work, at least one spent with the Big Sister, another spent being lazy and the third spent tidying and getting all remaining unpacking done, and finished and in its rightful place! Thus being able to give all clothes a proper home, making locating going out clothes a damn sight easier.

There really isn't that much left to give a home to, only trousers and jumpers, but it is such a bore. Admittedly I did say to myself after moving house that I would refrain from being messy, and I am actually ashamed I've allowed it to get so bad. A slap on the wrist for naughty me. My trainers didn't even get put to bed after I created my sneakers blog, eek! World of embarrassment!

Time to unveil my beautiful bedroom- Time to get the ipod docked, and the volume up loud. 

My Leg- The Firemans Pole

WARNING- FOR THOSE FOLKS WITH A DISLIKE OF BLOOD AND GORE, AND THOSE OF A WEAK DISPOSITION LOOK AWAY NOW!

Monday started out as every other Monday does. I was awoken by the beautiful sounds of Newton Faulkner and his pretty little song called Gone in the Morning. I got up, feeling the dread really looking forward to another working week. I jumped in the shower, not literally, that would be a silly idea, but maybe a broken bone would prevent me from . . . .  no bad idea, I need to work, and it really is quite a nice little job.

Quick shower, hair dried upside down for maximum flickety effect, and make up applied with little effort. Now, as its only me prancing around in my room in the mornings, I either spend my time in my dressing gown, or just my underwear. Unfortunately, the latter option was my choice yesterday, leaving my legs fully exposed!

I was cleaning my ears out with the trusty old cotton ear buds, when Marcy the kitten decided she wanted to play with one ( an unused one- fresh from the packet dont worry!). So after she had pestered me for long enough, I threw one onto my bed for her to play with. She launched herself off the suitcase in an attempt to reach the bed. Unfortunately her little paws didnt give her enough grip. As she hurtled towards the ground and saw her little 3 month life flash before her pretty little eyes, she saw a lifeline- MY LEG!

So she did as any hunky fireman would do and grabbed on and slid down with ease. My leg however came off a lot worse. At first I heard the noise of claw on skin, then the pain, then I looked down, and luckily there wasn't anything to be seen. Phew, I thought, I got away with that one . . . . Not on your nelly, I took another look and the thing was bleeding- a lot!

HELLO!

So, I ran upstairs to show my sister and our housemate. My sister nearly vommed. Not at the sight of blood, but at the pattern it had displayed itself in on my skin. She has a phobia of patterns, called Tripophobia. She was kind enough to let me use her Boots cucumber wipes, mainly because she wanted me to get rid of the pattern, but also so I could clean up the mess before it got over everything else.

At lunchtime it still didnt look very pretty, it had bled under the skin. So now it looks like my leg has been run through an industrial sized sewing machine, or has been attacked by a stammering Morse Coder wielding a pencil compass!

All in all, I'm not going to be getting my legs out in public this week, and maybe not even next week. I'm not so self conscious about the wound, but more of the fact that I'm going to end up with hairy legs! I wont be shaving my leg again until it has healed- I'm not risking taking off more skin!

Blitz-Tastic Wensleydale

Leyburn Needs You!

(well done tourist information board for getting the wrong era on the advertisements)

Yes, the last weekend in July was the annual 1940's weekend in my old school town of Leyburn, Wensleydale, North Yorkshire. Run in conjunction with the Wensleydale Railway the 1940's weekend was packed to the rafters with stalls, singing and dancing, and folks having a reet good time- me and my family included!

This was the first year I managed to get to the weekend, it has been running for the past 3 years. Man did I have a  whap-diddly fun time, ALL DAY! We went for the Sunday, and we were up bright and early that morning getting hair, make up and spiffing Land Girl outfits sorted. By pure fluke I managed to tong my fringe into some faux bangs, and they stayed put. Phew! The red lippy topped the outfits off, and stayed at the top of my binoculars case/handbag for fast reapplication!

My dad laughed when he saw me, and I initially felt sad, but he said it wasnt in jest, but a laugh of joy at how fab I looked- "you look just like my mother" he kept saying. Love it! My sister just said 'Well we cant go see Grandad like this, it'll push him over the edge!" (we did go to see grandad dressed up, and after recent feedback he said we looked smart, especially Becky (moi :-) ) 

Anyway, back to the day. It started off with a photoshoot in the back garden. Any chance for dad to use his many cameras!

 

Driving into town I was really excited, and when we were driving past the crowds of people it did feel like going back in time. We parked up, and strolled back towards the hubbub. There were a few funny looks from tourists, but the reception from the other 40's folk was wonderful. My gawd the outfits on others were just amazing. Victory rolls, felt hats, red lippy, beautiful dresses and seamed stockings. There was a real wind up air raid siren, and most people took cover in the pub when it went off. The hottie 'US Army' boys were extremely nice, and even let us hop in their truck. Unfortunately the back seat did not come into use, dang!

 

I felt really proud to be part of the day. It's nice to have people admiring you, rather than you looking on in awe. I admit my head felt fizzy and giddy all day, it felt like a dream to be there. I also noticed that 8 out of 10 people had brought their little dogs too, next year my aim is to have a little pooch to take with me too, even if I have to steal my pals Jack Russell, Bailey.

There were couples dressed up, there were parents that had only dressed their children up, but there were some families where everyone was dressed up, avec baby gas mask suit! 

 

  

 

    

One of the our family friends provided the carnival games and swing boats, but I never did get to have a go!

There were so many beautiful vehicles, adorned with various name badges and doodles. The US Trucks all had names, the one we sat in was called Pearl :-)

  

 

 

We enjoyed a 99 ice cream, nom!

They must have had small heads back in the day, because these 'adult' glasses were tiny, and I have a small head!

We didnt get to see much of the singers, but the one we did see sang wonderfully, such a sweet little coochy voice. She sang some of my favourites, but not my most favourite of all, Oh Johnny Oh by the Andrews Sisters, nobody ever includes it!

I made a new friend, his cane even had a bulldog face imprinted on it! I want a bulldog! 

We had an awesome day, and vowed that next year, we'll do it bigger and better. My parents are planning on dressing 40's for the day too, and our little (but much taller than us) cousins. I'm hoping my friends will come too and we can all have a big 40's barbeque in the garden when we get home. 

I would really like to spread the word about this event, and urge you to take a trip to it next summer. It may be small but it's getting better every year. Anyone that's interested I can advise you of places to stay, and they even have a camping site for the more adventurous! Fancy tonging your hair into rolls after sleeping in a caravan all night, is it possible?

Get in touch if you fancy taking a trip up North for this next year, or even just a visit to Wensleydale, its a pretty spectacular part of the country! It would be nice to meet you if you did come up for the event. We need to get more vintage-ites up here because I can't afford London, teehee ;-)

GIVE ME MY POST!!!

I believe he is actually a moron!

Honestly, I mean the break up wasn't exactly rosey, but you'd think that after he'd been such a div that he'd try and make amends by keeping the little things simple. But no, that would be far too much effort.

We split up, and I moved out, and relocated 150 miles North, leaving behind my house, my job, my friends, my neighbours, his family and MY CAT :-( 2 weeks after my departure we had a reconciliation meeting, which evidently didnt go to plan. Afterwards he didnt speak to me for two solid weeks I started to panic thinking he might be dead. So I thought I'd send a courtesy email advising him of my new address, so that if he was still alive he would be able to forward on any remaining post. (Looking back I wish I'd just asked my sweet upstairs neighbours to do that instead)

I received a half assed reply 3 days later via text. No apology for the silence, and stating he'd not yet seen any post for me. There were other horrible statements in this text that I choose not to divulge in this blog, as I dont want to uproot any old heart wrenching feelings.

Anyway, last week he texted again saying he'd received some post and that he'd post it asap. Brilliant I thought, but here we are now, 7 days later, no post arrived yet! What the heck is he playing at. Oh, yeah, he's playing the 'oh, i thought i'd open your post to see what was important and what wasnt- and i threw away the envelopes too' game. Fudging Planker! Is he serious!?! Surely it's up to me to decide whether my post is important or not? So now not only am I without important bills, bank statements and my HSBC key card, but he has to get an envelope from his work, get some (correct) postage on it, and send it up to me. IF ONLY he had just written the address onto the envelopes like I'd asked him to in the first place I wouldn't be so angry right now.

He was meant to get an envelope from work on Monday, but forgot, was meant to do it yesterday, but didn't. I hope he had a blimmin' good excuse, but probably not as he probably spent his lunch hour on the phone to his new girlfriend (we've only been separated for 5 weeks- they met after I'd been gone for 2! 'Thanks for the last 7 years Beck's, they meant the world to me- naaaat!'). Useless when we were together, useless now that we're not. Leopard, Spots?

I know I'm much better off without him, especially when he keeps reminding me of his complete retardedness. Congratulations, you're an idiot!

Not everyone's cup of tea . . . .

. . . . Trainers (or Sneaks' if I'm trying to be cool)

I have a lifelong love for trainers. After reading other blogs, I see that they are not a favoured type of footwear among other vintage-ites. For me, they are a part of who I am, regardless of whether I like vintage or not. I am not ashamed to say I like trainers, but they have to be something special for me to like them. 

I think the love began after I had a pair of second hand Nike Cortez in baby pink when I was around 3 or 4. There is a photo at my parents of me hoovering the bathroom whilst wearing them. I think I may have even learnt to tie my laces in these shoes. The arrival of the Spice Girls a few years later instilled my trainer love even more when Sporty Spice had a pretty cool blue and green pair of Adidas trainers (or Adeeedas Trainees as she called them), I just HAD to have them! A family excursion to London Town saw us entering the Adidas concession in Harrods to find 'THE' trainers. All dreams were shattered when the staff member returned empty handed, as they didnt stock my size! Sad Face.

A few weeks later, spirits were lifted again when I found a new, cooler pair of adidas. They were the brightest cerise, with teeny green flashes. I replaced the boring laces with those cool springy ones, and they were my trusted friends for many years to follow.

Since then I have fallen in love with a number of trainers, and I will never stop loving each and every pair I own. I bought them for a reason, and I could never part with them. My trustiest and most adaptable pair I own are my £3.50 black baseballs boots from the Blue Cross Next store in Leeds. I have had them since I was 14 (10 whole years), and even though they are literally falling apart at the seams, I keep glueing them back together as they are AWESOME! They go with big jeans, little jeans, leggins, shorts, dresses and skirts- hell they even look cute when I'm in my swimmer ;-)

I have my Skate trainers from my rebellious late teens- the comfiest trainers known to man, my Osiris D3's. Dreadfully hard to come by at the time, and still seem to be. I bought them because the ex had a pair and he wanted us to have his'n'hers shoes, we thought we were sooo cool- saying that, we actually were cool.

These Circa's were given to me as an extremely early birthday present during the winter season of 2006/2007. We were working in France as chalet hosts in Courchevel. I was bought these as they were MASSIVE and helped me stay on my feet whilst trudging through the snow covered streets and pistes. They are a size 7, two sizes bigger than I would normally wear but are so padded that they actually fit like a glove.

I have my other skate trainers, my Nike 'Paul Rodriguez Limited Edition' Zoom Air's. Multicoloured and have a red quilted lining, much like Hugh Hefners smoking jackets. They were bought on a romantic trip to Edinburgh, with Exxy Dearest (we were very much in love at the time and we again bought his'n'hers). The man in the shop said he liked my Hello Kitty socks :-)

These were bought after a holibob to Lanzarote when the ex bought himself a gold pair of sneaks. I was so jealous of his feet that week, so decided that since my legs were beautifully bronzed they would go very well with my own pair of gold trainers. I treated myself to these in the Schuh sale for a teensy price of £25 (reduced from £75).

These were bought because they're just quite funky colours- definitely summer trainers, avec shorts and tanned pins.

 

These are also my summer ones, more like sandals. I have found out that these are no good for wearing on a rowing machine.

My most prized trainers are my Nike Court Force's. Bought using a friends staff discount at my previous job. I saw these in the window of the shop and fell in love. The blue- striking, the yellow- vibrant, the polka dots and sparkle- cuuuuute, and the little bit of pink- well that's just attention to detail- like me, immortalised in a shoe. These trainers are kept for best, to impress others, and to basically grab attention at every possible opportunity. 

I have so many other pairs of trainers too, but these are the select few at the top of my favourites list.

I may want to be a 1940's pretty, but as everyone knows, we all have a Jekyll to our Hyde. Mine just happens to be a trainer wearing street dance wannabe with a place in her heart for skateboarding, parkour and music that you'll find on the 'Step Up' movies and the Lucozade light advert- DJ Fresh, I salute you.

PS- I am NOT a Part-Time chav

Kittens & Wire Wool

Not as scary as it sounds!

So last night the kittens had very upset stomachs, resulting in the rugs needing to be washed and the kitchen floor to be scrubbed.

I got down on my hands and knees with a bowl of suds and a sponge and got to work giving the floor the once over. We have big tiles in our kitchen, and while I was scrubbing I noticed that the grouting in between the tiles was not black, like we were all led to believe, but WHITE! I got scrubbing, real elbow grease, but eventually wore a hole through the sponge! I knew the sponge would not last the entirity of the floor so had a root around under the sink and found wire wool, soap covered stuff, PINK soap covered!

So I got to work and scrubbed the grouting to within an inch of its life, until it went from this . . . .

To THIS . . . . . . .

The filth was yuk-worthy, but sooooo satisfying to scrape up.

My hands and nails didn't suffer too much . . . . .

the dirt did. Laters years of grime build up!

Bedtime Blog

Before I say goodnight, I just thought I'd share this little nugget with you all. Whilst brushing out todays fringe, it has miraculously turned itself into a semi roll! I am impressed, my barnet has a mind of its own, if only it would play ball in the mornings when I need it to!

Nighty Night!

Why do Vintage Gentlemen look lovelier than modern men?

~Sigh~

The tweed, the 'tache's the two tone shoes. There really is something lovely about the vintage clad chap. Don't get me wrong, the modern dressed blokes are quite good looking too, but there's just some sort of edge that the vintage 'uns have. Maybe because you know that that moustache has been painstakingly tweaked and twiddled to perfection, or that the cheeky grin is because he feels good and knows he's looks just as good (not as good as he'd look if he had me linked arm in arm with him). 

I know they're not the 1940's style, but if either of these two men would like to come round to my house in character, I would NOT object- swoooon!

Two of the men on my top 5 list- in the same film- most swoonworthy watching!

I just read an old post on Red Legs in Soho's blog about a dating website for Vintage lovers (http://redlegsinsoho.blogspot.com/2010/09/vintage-dating.html) - is this the way forward? I may have to investigate. I agree that the person you're dating/with should share your interests, or be very accepting of your eccentricities. Far too often I was put down for dressing not how 'he' expected me to dress. And when I did try, he still didn't like it. I believe the modern kids would call him an A-Hole? How I long for a gent who says 'hunny you look fabbo in that dress, lets go for a stroll' or maybe 'your hair looks spiffing with the faux bangs and that dandy red scarf'.

My parents have been very supportive after my recent breakup and it was my DAD of all people that said 'lovey, you need to get yourself a nice vintage man', he is soooo right!

Back towards the topic of Sherlock again (slightly) if there's anyone out there willing to buy me one of these for Christmas, or maybe even as a 'just because' gift I would be your bestest friend forever. 

His name will be Gladstone, like from Sherlock.

What a difference a bit of lippy makes!

So, I was meant to meet my sister for lunch at 11- its now 12.30 and I had to send my utmost apologies to sis. Little does she know that I am delayed due to wardrobe issues! The first outfit was too chesty, The second I didnt have matching shoes, the fringe did NOT curl the way it usually does, and I eventually had to resort to copious amounts of stinky hairspray! I was beginning to lose hope with todays outfit, until the trusty lippy came out! 

Huzzah, thats better!

Excuses for the junk behind- result of recently moving house and being a messy so-and-so!

Now for the shirt, and the shoes, and I'm off to town.

I'm glad I live in an accepting city now, if I tried this in my old town I'd have got stabbed up!

Note to self- get someone to take photo's for me!

When starting out as a Land Girl . . . .

. . . . it's best to start at the beginning.

Amazon in fact. Google told me that from 1941, girls that put themselves forward for Land duties were issued with the Land Girl Manual. This book in fact - see below - thanks Amazon!

After watching Land Girls with Anna Friel, and very recently the BBC series also by the same name, I became totally fascinated by these wonderful women. Not only were they hard working but they found it possible to have fun and stay beautiful when our country was in trouble. Little known fact, Land Girls of the Second World War didn't get recognition for their efforts, not until 2008. 

So, I decided in my quest for femininity and ladyhood I would read through my new bible, and find out exactly what I would need, and need to do to make my life a Land Girl life.

I read through the forms, and I did ponder exactly what would happen if I filled them out and posted them to their intended destination? Probably not much. So I moved onto the next step- The Uniform!

I read through the list, to find out what items were achievable, and made a list of things I would need to buy. I bought the book in April, and have since managed to build a little chunk of the uniform. 

(a) A serviceable rainproof mackintosh

(b) a khaki overall coat - CHECK

(c) two fawn shirts with turn down collar

(d) a pair of corduroy breeches - CHECK

(e) a pair of dungarees - kind of CHECK

(f) a green knitted pullover - got a brown one CHECK

(g) three pairs of fawn stockings

(h) a pair of heavy brown shoes

(i) a pair of rubber gum boots

(j) a brown felt hat

(k) a green armlet with red crown on it

(l) a badge of the 'button hole' type to wear in civilian clothes

Ok, so maybe I dont have much of the uniform, I need to keep shopping! I enjoyed the list of What to take with you;

(a) two complete sets of underclothes (at least)

(b) two complete sets of night clothes (at least)

(c) a pair of house slippers

(d) another pair of walking out shoes

(e) one or two frocks to change into in the evenings

(f) a woolly scary to put round the head in the early morning

(g) woolly gloves

(h) a bicycle, if you possess one

(i) ordinary toilet requisites

Well, after seeing this, my first priority was to get a vintage bike! My fluorescent pink BMX will just not look the part! So the big ebay hunt started. bike after bike I looked at, with prices just extortionate. I stumbled across some that would need fixing up, so after doing the math and sourcing the bits I'd need, I worked out it would still be cheaper to buy a knackered old bike than an already done up one. Plus it gave me something to do in the evenings- fixing up a bike would be far more entertaining than sitting with the grumpy (now) ex. 

So, looking at my list today I realise I am still a hundred miles away from having the full list of required items, so I need to keep plugging away on and in my favourite bargain houses :-) I cant really go out pretending I'm a Land Girl on my bicycle wearing a khaki overcoat, cords and bare feet!

And the Ugly Duckling . . .

. . . . . .Turned into a Beautiful Swan.

Growing up, I never really liked to follow the crowd. I believe it was my wonderful mum who started off my individuality. I wore the brightest colours imaginable, clothes made from other clothes and clothes made from kits (Clothkits to be exact).

I was always happy to wear something different and when I was nine I announced that every sunday was to be 'Hippy Sunday'. Out came the Doctor Marten boots (tartan of course!), the gypsy skirt and a neat little gypsy top. I would wear big sunflower clasp in my hair and have a 'chilled out' day. Why a nine year old needs to chill out I don't know, all I know is that while I was out there being individual, my school mates were sat at home in their generic mainstream clothing.

Skipping to secondary school I chose Doctor Marten T-Bar shoes, not heels like my mates! I dyed my hair at 15, started stretching my ear lobes too (much to mummy's disgust- 'please dont, I have a friend that could turn those earrings into normal studs'). I then started on 'two-tone' hair, plum on top, PINK underneath. The school didnt care as by that time I was in sixth form. I met 'The Ex' at this time, and we bought matching chunky trainers. I wore baggy jeans, tiny tshirts, I was like a little Avril Lavigne, and the scurge of the school- I DID NOT fit in. Thank god for my sister and The Ex living in Sheffield, my weekend retreat to get away from school. It was nice to hang out with people like me for once! From then on I never feared to be individual, the more different the better.

Fast forward 6 years (to june last year) and the baggy jeans still existed, and the tiny tshirts, but really only for home or lazy time when slugging to the shop. It was then I decided that I wanted to make a dress for the summer sun. I hit a wall and wanted to be more feminine, something I never thought would happen. I think maybe subconsciously it was a vain attempt at getting The Ex to fancy me again, but alas, it was just not meant to be- but I did get a really nice dress out of it in the end.

I got up one saturday morning, pulled an old sheet out the cupboard, grabbed auld Brother Sewing Machine and sat my cheeks down and got stitching. I designed it from my brain bank, no templates. 7 hours later, pretty lady dress prototype was complete, complete with buttons and fastenings.

WOWSERS those buttons are tight- maybe the real thing needs to be a little looser!

So, a couple of weeks later I went to Ikea. Not really for anything in particular, just went along for the ride, the ex in-laws were going and I fancied a day out. While we were there, I headed to the haberdashery section, and found the most amazing fabric- perfect for making myself a summer dress! Covered in all types of birds I decided I needed it and that I would dedicate my first wearable dress to the lady I'm modelled on, my Granny- will most definitely do a post on the two of us somethime. Her and my Grandad were big in the 'Bird World' for my Grandad held the largest collection of bird recordings, all collected by himself. So the birdy dress became the Granny Kirby dress.

It needs a belt, but this was the initial finished product.

The Ex hated it. he hated the print, and I think he secretly hated the fact that I'd made it. He always wanted me to fork out vomit worthy amounts of money for dresses- this one cost me £3.86. Because of his hatred, I never wore it last year, AT ALL. It made it's first public appearance this spring, and I wore it to work, and it was received very well. Plus, by this time we had almost split up so I thought, stuff it, I'm wearing the dress whether he likes it or not.

Here I am, avec Granny Kirby dress, in my transition to pretty ladyhood on my beloved bicycle Beryl. She's a beaut. I'll do a post on her later.

So, from hippy to skater to pretty lady, all in the fine space of 24 years. I'm sure I'll settle for a style someday!