Clogs, Clobber & Classic Cars

There are only sixty-nine Volkswagen Variants left in the UK and our 1970 model, Ebbie, is an LE, of which only 6 are known to exist (Source) so imagine my surprise when I visited the Lotta of Stockholm website (I've gone slightly mad for their clogs this Summer) only to find Ebbie's twin sister heading up their latest advertising campaign. Not only do they sell the cutest and most comfy shoes in the world but they've got impeccable taste in vehicles.

Of course, my penchant for maxi dresses meant that I've had to hitch up my skirt to show off my latest clogs (bought as a reward for surviving the ordeal that was Truck.)

We're hoping to take part in my long-time vintage hero, Wayne Hemingway's Classic Car Boot Sale in London next month. Much as I'd love Ebbie to be our trade vehicle, with his cooking facilities, fridge and rain canopy, dear old Gilbert is the more practical option.

Talking of vintage cars and all things automotive check out some of the sexy motors that turned up at Vintage Village at Stockport on Sunday. My favourites were the glossy black Volvo P1800 (aka The Saint's car) and the ravishing Indian bike.

Although it was lovely to catch up with some of our vintage mates and to meet a couple of cool chicks who read my blog I really should have learnt from past experience and not booked to do a vintage fair in August. Coupled with the 5.30am alarm and the four hour round trip - blasted road works - trade was excruciatingly slow and we had little to show for our efforts (although I did come home with a cracker of a 1970s psychedelic maxi.) 

Courtesy of lovely photographer, David Kennedy

However, on the bright side, I met the textile designer responsible for the print on our star frock, this gauzy cape-sleeved cotton maxi by CanCan, London, which was admired by all who passed by our rails on Sunday. She was paid, a not inconsiderable, £30 by the Tootal group for her design back in 1971 and it's the first time she'd seen it since her student days in Manchester.

In my enthusiasm to book the final two festivals of the season I'd failed to check the dates, only realising weeks later that we've only got one day between trading in Oxfordshire and setting up in deepest Dorset which means that we're going to be on the road for a fortnight ....whoops! The next seven days are going to be a crazed stock buying, washing and pricing frenzy. Thank goodness for good pals, and official Kinky stock hunters, Nikki and Kirk who shop when we can't. Here's the fab vintage haul they brought around for us yesterday - all laundered and ready to go (and exactly the kind of stuff we'd buy ourselves).

Clockwise from top left: 1970s deadstock American dinner shirt; 1970s gents' leisure shirt; Ladies' dagger collar cotton blouse; Vintage denim bell bottoms; 1970s Campri deadstock wind cheater; 1970s Young Motherhood of Finland denim smock; 1970s St Michael beagle collar psych blouse; Vintage St Michael midi skirt; Egon Shop, Germany psychedelic keyhole detail maxi; Deadstock Made in Paris polyester tie blouse, 1960s cotton shift dress; 1970s orange suede trench coat; 1960s Crimplene coat dress; 1960s green leather coat; 1970s cape sleeve silk crepe maxi

Clockwise from top left: 1960s deadstock vinyl shoulder bag; 1970s embroidered leather bag; Tootal scarves & cravats; Vintage deadstock undies; 1960s deadstock fringed shoulder bag; 1960s vinyl shoulder bag

We had a lucky break when we were out shopping this morning, bumping into some vintage traders we hadn't seen for a couple of years. They'd since had a change of direction business-wise and these days only sell student-orientated gear (ie., 1990s and second-hand sportswear) and, as they store all their stock in their van, asked if we'd be interested in taking some Harris Tweed jackets off their hands as the kids aren't into them. How times change! Back in the last century when I was a student all the cool guys wore vintage Harris Tweed. We got a few odd looks from passers-by as we rummaged through sacks of clothes on the town centre car park, handing over crisp banknotes in exchange for pukka vintage gear.

Shell suits and trakkie bottoms? If I wanted to sell clothes I didn't like I'd get a job in Primark. 

WEARING: Vintage gingham maxi, 1970s woven Madeira souvenir basket, bastard massive beads and plastic bangles (all charity shopped), Embroidered, pompom trim waistcoat (Colaba Causeway, Mumbai, 2016)

I'd better bring the washing in (finally, a dry day for pegging clothes out) then I'll be catching up on some Scandi Noir before the BBC's fascinating Partition series at 9pm.

See you soon!