Carry On Camping

I'd love to have posted a heap of pictures of vintage Volkswagens, hedonistic festival goers and dogs in fancy dress from CamperJam but from the moment we parked up on Thursday until closing time yesterday we never got a minute.

The 1970s trailer tent has been unused for almost 2 years so we'd practised putting it up in the garden beforehand but it seemed a lot more complicated when observed by a crowd of seasoned pros with trendy pop-up gazebos. 

Next we unloaded Gilbert, selecting stock suitable for a heatwave (omitting the heavier dresses,  coats, knitwear and fake furs I'd packed pre-Glasto) and display it enticingly.

All stalls need bunting....

and a changing room.

 The front view with retro car parts and vintage camping gear to the side.

Our living space was conveniently situated around the back (perfect for popping back for chilled beer, fresh fruit and pretzels).

Happy with the shop set up we locked it all away and set to work on our camp - easier said than done, like my right hip our awning got wrecked at Glasto, so we had to figure out how to erect the replacement. At 10pm Jon knocked up a chana massala, we cracked open the canned G&Ts and collapsed into bed just after midnight. 

Psychedelic maxi from Krista-licious, vintage straw hat from a car boot sale

 We were up bright and early to greet the first festival goers, trading until 10pm when it got too dark to see the merchandise. 

We'd planned to catch some of the Friday night entertainment over in the main arena but ended up hitting the sack instead.

Maxi dress courtesy of the gorgeous Sarah Misfit, 1930s parasol from a car boot sale.

The public gates opened at 9am so it's just as well we'd had an early night, we were inundated all day.

Jon's dead stock 1960s Levis shorts, tooled belt & leather chappals from street markets in India, trilby nicked from the Kinky Melon stock room.

 Somehow work is never too hard when you've an ice cold cider in your hand. I didn't wear shoes from the moment we arrived (and I'm still barefoot now).

A graffiti artist re-did Jon's home-made chalkboard sign .

On Saturday night we closed early enough to catch some live music, grab a bag of chips (a power failure meant that the Glastonbury wood-fired pizza we'd been dreaming about all day couldn't happen) and marvel at the crazy fancy dress outfits. 

Dollyrockers silk maxi from eBay (cleverly spotted by Jennie)

 Ready to resume trading at 8.30am on Sunday morning.

Deconstructed Diesel waistcoat (chazza shop) & crushed velvet cap (car boot sale)

It was so hot I ended up working in my swimsuit - it didn't seem to scare too many potential punters off, we had another amazing day! 

1960s St Michael swimsuit from a jumble sale.

At 5pm we packed up, said our goodbyes and got back home for 8pm - fit for nothing more than a diet of leftovers and trashy TV.

What can I say? The best trading weekend ever (and a cracking suntan) but after a fortnight of portaloos, camp beds and eating on the hoof we're well and truly done for, my hip's officially knackered & I've lost a toe nail between here and Weston Park (I know, I'm such a turn-on). A few days of doing bugger all has never sounded so good.

See you soon!

Linking to Patti's gorgeous gang over at Visible Monday.