"Euggghhh....look at them, they're bloody foreign!" said the woman in a Primark tee shirt & obscenely thin leggings to her partner, dressed in head to toe Nike, throwing them down in disgust. I felt like pointing out that everything they were wearing probably got made in an Asian sweatshop but held my tongue, grabbed them and handed over my 40p.
My tie dyed shrug started life as a tablecloth I found at another jumble sale. I tried to do a tutorial but you'll find a far better one over at Krista's.
The turquoise pompom trim was 50p a metre from the Indian haberdashery stall on the market 'cos everything's better with pompoms.
Is it just me or is the type of ignorance displayed by the jumble sale couple steadily on the rise? A trip into town coupled with the behaviour of many of last weekend's campers show a general lack of intelligence or respect for anybody else. Feeding tiny children tubes of Pringles & fizzy pop for breakfast, throwing litter, pissing wherever they fancy, thinking its acceptable to tell another woman she's got great tits in front of their wife, spitting, drunkenness before 9am. Poor Liz's cat, Disco, even got shot by an air rifle last night. God help us if this is an example of the Core British Values the government are proposing our schools teach.
Anyway, moan over. We've stock to buy, a vintage fair in Derby on Saturday to prepare for, a house that looks like an explosion in Oxfam and I really ought to crack on with some sewing before the rest of Blogland utterly put me to shame.
|Barry M nail paint - made in the UK!|
But stuff that, we're pushing the boat out and having a curry from Nessa's for tea tonight. I don't know what day of the week it is any more so I'm treating today as a Friday - Cuban rum & coke, an Indian vegetable Karahi with extra green chillies and catching up with Wallander, a Scandinavian detective series with subtitles. My life would be a whole lot duller without bloody foreign stuff.
See you soon!