Never forget where you've come here from ....

Good morning, my lovelies! I've heard that the heatwave will be back with a vengeance next week ... just in time for the children going back to school ... It's all change here again, Harry's going back to Salford tomorrow and moving into a house before starting his second year and Millie's going back to college this week. I've hung up my childminding hat and for the first time in 24 years, my day won't revolve around the school run.

At the bottom of my last post I briefly mentioned an appearance I made on Noel Edmond's Multicoloured Swap Shop ... best forgotten I think, but as with all memories it produced lots more ...

It was November 1977, I was 16, fresh out of school and I was working at our local shipbuilding company, as a trainee shorthand-typist. In a small town like ours, Swap Shop coming to visit was a BIG event! My Dad had arranged with a friend of his that she would take my younger sister and brother along with her children ... he suggested to me that I go along too to help, as there would probably be crowds.

I got in touch with my friend Anne and arranged to meet her at the football ground where it was being held. The lady collected us, I met my friend and promptly forgot about my siblings as I was carried away with the excitement of it all.

I was wearing my new coat ... my pride of joy ... bought from Grattan's catalogue on the never-never ... a bright blue blanket coat, designed by the great Lee Bender from Bus Stop ... I was a real bobby dazzler in that! It was very voluminous, as you can see from the picture (I was over the moon to find an image of the very coat on Google - thank you very much) had a tie neck and then a rather fetching matching scarf.  I do remember the wind used to blow up it and cause it to billow out, rather like a ship in full sail.  The bell sleeves were a tad draughty too.

Posed by models - not me haha 

I had lots of other clothes from Bus Stop as I ran the Grattan catalogue ... my friend Sharon ran Freeman's and we made sure we never paid the money in on the same week ... so we could borrow out of each others! We were paid every Thursday but never had any money left after the weekend so it came in very handy.

Anyway, I'm going off on a tangent ... I met my friend and we somehow ended up on stage with Patsy Gallant (From LA to New York, remember?) after she'd done her number ... we were chatting to Cheggers and gave him a peck on the cheek (swoon!) and were getting quite dirty looks from Patsy for hogging the stage.  Cheggers asked us what we were swapping and I had a David Cassidy LP and Anne a Donny Osmond one ... he asked what did we want to swap it for.  I said loudly into the microphone, "I'll swap it with Kath over there, for that Diana Ross LP". Kath was loathe to swap her sophisticated LP for my teenybopper one, but wanted to be on telly so joined us on the stage.  At this point Cheggers had his head in his hands as we weren't really meant to know each other, and we were on air when I was loud.  In voice as well as clothes.

We were quickly scuttled off the stage and to this day I have never seen a recording ... it was one of the editions of the programme that was mysteriously lost at the BBC. I wonder why. 

I was reunited with my sister and brother who were looking daggers at me;

• for leaving them with strangers
• for hogging the limelight on what was actually a children's programme
• for wearing such an ostentatious garment 
• for making a show of them

We went home and my Dad, never one to show a great deal of emotion, said "I was doing the hoovering, looked up and saw you and that daft Anne on the telly. Why weren't H & K with you?"

It was my fifteen minutes of fame ... I went out that night and everyone was pointing at me ... envious perhaps of my suave appearance on national tv ... or perhaps incredulous that I had dared wear that coat again.  I'll probably never know ... 

I'd love to know about your claim to fame, and hope you're having an amazing, multi-coloured weekend!

Love Claire xxx

The ghost of Christmas past ...

My mind has been wandering down memory lane once again, and as I carry out my Christmas rituals I remember the way things were done when I were a lass ...

Thank you Google! xx

The build up to Christmas was always so exciting, at school there would be end of term competitions, guessing the number of sweets in a jar, raffles and of course The Christmas Party.  A new dress and shoes would always be bought, these would be worn for every special occasion over the Christmas period ... we didn't have drawerfuls of clothes then, and with four of us to clothe it was an expensive time for my parents. On the last day of school it was 'toy day' and I always took my favourite doll, Patricia. My Mam would make her a new dress specially for the occasion and I would wash her and do her hair the night before so that she looked beautiful.

Putting up the decorations was always a big event, and we would ooh and aah over the bubble lights which I so wish I still had ... we would get straw and set up the crib with the figures which my Mam had since she was a child and make paper chains to hang from the ceiling.

Spot the deliberate grammatical error! Grrr ...

On Christmas Eve, when my Dad was collecting The Turkey, my Mam would clean the house while me and my sister and brothers were becoming frantic with excitement ... I would help her to make the trifle and loved crumbling the Cadbury's Flake on top of the cream ... I still make my trifle exactly as my Mam did all those years ago. We would go to bed after putting out the mince pie for Father Christmas, and hope that sleep would come ....

The excitement of waking up and realising that it was Christmas Day ...

One of my best Christmas presents was a Tressy doll ... You pressed her belly button and her hair grew, wound her up with a key in her back and it was short again ... I can remember unwrapping her on Christmas morning, and she came with a wardrobe of hand knitted clothes, a pink and navy skating suit, jumper and skirt and a turquoise lurex evening gown with matching stole.  My Mam will have made these when i went to bed, and hidden them away. I played with her endlessly ... when you see what children get nowadays, Tressy would probably be just another stocking filler, but she was my best present.  

From Google - thanks so much! xx

We would each get a main present, usually a doll for me, a selection box, 2 annuals, and maybe 2 or 3 other bits and pieces. Probably a carrier bag full ... always with the Pretty Peach bubble bath from Avon sticking out of the top.  My Aunty always gave me a Bronnley gift set, soap, bath cubes and body lotion ... this made me feel very grown up, I remember.

So this year, once again as I prepare for the Big Day, my mind goes back to those carefree days, not so long ago, when Christmas was more about sharing and a time for families to get together, than the feast of consumerism it has become, where we all worship at the great God, Tesco ... It was a proper holiday, shops were shut for days, and the January sales were a big event, not starting until after 12th night ...

Along with the traditional favourites, new things are tried ... Peppermint Bark, yum yum!!

But Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas without a tin of these, now would it?

Whether you are traditional or modern, at home or away, I'll be raising a glass to you, and wishing you the very best Christmas you've ever had!

(and so does Ruby)

Have a fabulous time my lovelies, and looking forward to hearing all about it!

Love Claire xxx

Yesterday ... all my troubles seemed so far away ...

I was just thinking the other day, about my love of vintage treasures.  Where did it come from?  For as long as I can remember, I've never really liked 'shiny' new things, but much preferred faded and worn things ... items with a history and a tale to tell.

When I was seven or eight years old, we moved home to the other side of town ... to a much bigger house than the one in which I was born.  My youngest brother was on the way, and our little house just wasn't big enough for a family of  six.

Our new house was Victorian, and had all the original features - high ceilings with cornicing, corbels, spindled banisters and tall, mirrored fireplaces downstairs, and cast iron ones in 3 of the 4 bedrooms. I LOVED this house then ... the smells  ... of polish and Brasso, the little scullery off the kitchen with a separate pantry that I used to play shops in (I had to wear my coat, mind), that my Dad later knocked down so that he could build a garage in its place.

One of my first memories of this house is moving-in day ... it was Easter Saturday, and we were despatched to my Godparent's house (my favourite Aunty and Uncle)  for the day. In the evening they took us home. When we entered the kitchen, there was a fire burning brightly in the grate ... I've longed for a house with a fireplace in the kitchen ever since ...

This was the late 60's and 'original features' weren't really a desired commodity when buying a house.  Lots of people, my own parents included, had the ethos 'out with the old and in with the new', and modernised with a capital M. The fireplaces were removed one by one, electric units were put in their place. Walls were stripped of any floral loveliness, replastered and papered with up-to-the-minute wallpaper, wooden and tessallated tiled floors were covered with fitted carpets which immediately cut down the draughts, but weren't as pleasing to the eye (or my eye, anyway!)

The dividing wall between the two reception rooms came thundering down and was replaced with sliding doors and shelves with Flemish glass.  I remember my Mam holding a cheese and wine party so that the neighbours could come and see her new doors ... they were oohed and aahed over and lots of them soon placed orders with the builder. They were my Mam's pride and joy, and home to her collection of Pen Delfin rabbits.

My childhood home had evolved from Victorian house with 30's decor to retro 60s paradise ... this wasn't to my taste, but my parents had grown up during the war and wanted to inject some colour and style into their new home. A lot of these houses have now undergone another transformation ... having the original features reinstated!

The look I aspire to is not only my childhood home in its original state, but also my Nana's home ... it shines brightly in my mind, and lots of things in my home now are identical twins to things that could be found at Nana's. She lived in a house not ten minutes from where I live now, the walls were all chalky white, except for the bathroom, which was powdery pink.  It was always spotlessly clean and smelled of breadmaking and polish, even though Nana smoked liked a chimney!

She had a wash house off the kitchen that housed a large copper for boiling the clothes, a dolly tub and a large iron mangle ... I'm not saying she used these on a daily basis, in fact I don't remember seeing them in use, but they were brought from her old house probably because there was somewhere to put them.  What I would give to have these now ... I can just see the mangle with a row of plant pots, beside the dolly tub full of flowers! (Keeping my bike company, of course).

On many a Sunday afternoon I'd get the bus to Nana's and spend the afternoon with her ... I'd have my tea there; tinned salmon salad with Heinz Salad Cream and home made bread, followed by tinned peaches and Carnation 'cream'.  We'd watch The Golden Shot together (Bob Monkhouse, Anne Aston and Bernie the Bolt) with a paper bag of Coconut Mushrooms or Raspberry Ruffles between us, hoping that my uncle's name had been picked out to win the money, as he was disabled and we'd sent a letter in. Happy, happy days ...

Where does your love (or hate) of vintage come from? What is the story behind the style that you have chosen?

I think I can safely say that my love of vintage takes me back to a time when life was carefree, the only worry in the world was having to learn your seven times table by Monday, and everyone who I loved was safe and well ...

Have a wonderful week, my lovelies ...

Love, Claire xxx

Oh, Island in the sun ....

Almost a year ago I took you for a walk on the wild side to the wonderful Piel Island.  To be honest, I really didn't think it was that long ago, and as it was such a grey, miserable day, I thought it was last October, but no, it was actually in August!

Yesterday ... not last year!

My lifelong friend Anne who lives in Dorset, is visiting my little town on her annual jolly to see family and friends, and  over a nice meal out the other night, mentioned that she was going on a nostalgic boat trip to Piel Island with friends, so Millie and I invited ourselves along ...

This time we were going on the Ferry, not by foot, and the day dawned wild and windy with heavy showers, but as I always say, if we waited for sunshine we'd never get anything done. Armed with our pac-a-macs and picnics, we met up on Roa Island, and while we stood around idly chatting, missed the first ferry over!

Harry, ready for action

It only takes 10 minutes or so to do the return trip, so we didn't have long to wait before we boarded.  The sea was quite choppy, so it was a boisterous journey, but the sun was shining brightly and shimmering on the waves ... a bit different from the last time I showed you the island.

 

We approached the island after being gaily thrown about for five minutes or so, and although I have said it before, I still think that Piel Island would make a great setting for an Enid Blyton feature film as it has all the essentials ... a rugged, desolate beach; dark, brooding castle, a secretive huddle of smuggler's cottages, and an old sea dog's inn, all steeped in ancient, salty history ...

Millie, hugely excited!

We disembarked without falling in the sea, and went for a quick look around the island, as it is well over 30 years since Anne last camped here, and she needed to reacquaint herself with the landmarks.  She got a bit emotional which is very unlike her, as we looked at the little cottage that is still for sale, and had a little dream about living there, and then found a sunny spot to lay the blanket on the ground.

Replete with a Tesco meal deal (I left it too late to decide whether or not to go, so there was no time to make up the usual hamper) and several Fondant Fancies, we ambled along to the pub for a swift half of shandy ...

who needs to go abroad? 

By now the sun was really blazing it's socks off, so we all rolled up our jeans, fiddled around with tee shirts to avoid tan lines and joined in with the kids playing on the sand.  These are the best kind of days, and cost practically nothing ... the children get to play together, team build, use their imagination and are out in the fresh air, communing with nature.  Much better than trawling around a gaudy theme park eating vast amounts of chemical laden 'food' while their parents apply for a further advance on their mortgage.

This unfiltered image of the beach, sea and sky, wouldn't have looked out of place in a brochure advertising select 'off-the-beaten-track' holidays in the Aegean sea ...

eeeh! It's grim up north ...

All too soon it was time to leave, and we walked around the island, passing the castle ...

following the time-worn path beside the cliffs, eroded by the vicious tide, which will one day bring down this magnificent building and take it for its own ...

and boarded the ferry tired but happy, full of plans for next year!

Definitely A Grand Day Out of the highest order!

Sale of the Century

I know I promised to tell you all about my Vintage Sale which took place last week, BUT ...  I didn't take any photos ...  I started setting up at 6.30, and it took until 9 before I was satisfied with how it looked.  I took a little breather, had some breakfast, and made myself presentable, then everyone started arriving and didn't stop until lunchtime! By then it looked a little picked through and tatty, so I didn't bother with photographic evidence.  It was a fabulous day, the sun shone, was very well supported, I sold lots of stock, made some money to contribute to buying more of said stock, and decided that I will definitely be making Fabulous Vintage Sale an annual event! Thank you all for your support and kind words.

I'd just like to say that I was completely overwhelmed with the volume of comments for my last post. Thank you so much, they mean the world to me, and I was glad to be able to share my news with you.

Have a fabulous weekend, and hope the sun shines for you

Love, Claire xxx

If I could turn back time ...

A couple of weeks ago, something very strange happened.  I was browsing through Facebook when a name came up on a local page, of someone I hadn't seen for a while, so I clicked to see what they were up to. At the top of their page (as far as I got, honestly) there was a message, from someone naming other people they had worked with years ago ... people that I knew my lovely Mam had also worked with.  I contacted the lady in question, wondering if she was my Mam's friend from years ago, saying who I was, who my Mam was, and apologising in case I was completely barking up the wrong tree.  The very next day the lady contacted me to say I had unleashed all these memories for her ... they were best friends from age 14 and 15, when Agnes (Mam) joined her firm as an apprentice upholstress, until my Mam died in 1974 ... she went on to say that she had lots of photographs of my Mam and herself on various holidays they spent together.

Best Friends ... Mam on right xx

The next day she sent me some gorgeously vintage photos of my beautiful, glamorous mother.  It's funny, but when you're a child I don't think you really think much about your parents and their life before ... as you get older, that's when it becomes interesting.  My Mam died when I was 12, so I knew very little of her life and now the rest of her family have died, I thought I would never find out anything more about her.

The first photographs were taken in London at the Festival of Britain, in 1951, held to raise morale after the Second World War.  Oh, the style! Beautiful floral dresses with figure enhancing nipped-in waists that would be the height of fashion nowadays, swagger coats with huge buttons on the front, all worn with red lipstick and sunny smiles.

The next batch of pictures were taken on holiday in Ireland, where rationing had ended, so the two friends made merry, eating all the sweets and ice cream that they had so long been deprived of, and making themselves sick in the process! There were pictures taken in Dublin, and also in my home town ... Photographs that had been tinted by hand, very painstakingly.

Roses round the door ... x

On a wall two minutes from my home!

with Grandma, Aunty and baby cousin
on 'my' beach! xx

On holiday at Margate x

I am so happy that I have been given this insight into my Mam's late teens and twenties and seen the beautiful woman who I was lucky enough to have as a mother.  I don't have many photos of my parents because of circumstances beyond my control, so to have been given these pictures means the world. Thank you so much Janet, this post is dedicated to you, Mam, and best friends everywhere ...

Have a lovely day ...

Love Claire xxxx