The Joy Of Small Things

So what's blog worthy about this tatty Edwardian curiosity? Well, believe it or not, this tiny lacquered Chinoiserie box, together with its contents (seen below) was the first thing I remember spending my pocket money on. I was six years old.

Most kids went through the Argos catalogue, folding back the toy pages until it resembled a concertina or bought comics or hung around the sweet counter in Woolworth's. My idea of fun was visiting the curio shop around the corner with Mum and excitedly rummaging through the boxes of tat on the step outside. My little lacquered box complete with garish religious scraps and the tiny celluloid doll with the knackered left hip (no wonder I was attracted to it, she was a mini me!) cost me 50p and I get as much pleasure looking at it today as I did when I first opened that little box over forty-four years ago.

In a world where it seems like almost everyone is on some sort of journey, decluttering, downsizing and simplifying, I'm happy to quietly sit, deriving pleasure from the things I bought a lifetime ago.

On the eve of my eight year blogging anniversary (thanks for the reminder, Hazel) I thought I'd share some of the things that have been part of my life since buying them as a weird, antique collecting little girl but, despite being precious to me, have never been featured on my blog.

That Victorian scrap screen was another of my childhood acquisitions. It might be falling apart but it still managed to get included in the Your Home magazine photoshoot a couple of years ago. I love this image, it reminds me of the Johannes Vermeer prints that used to hang on the wall at home.

Despite moving eight times during my adult life, these Victorian dolls have always come with me. Forty years ago you could pick them up at jumble sales (and I frequently did). My Grandma made the floral dress - could that fabric be any more 1970s?!

You'll be relieved to know that they're all wearing knickers.

My Sindy doll didn't have trashy plastic furniture, she was far classier with her Victorian apprentice pieces. I sold all my Sindy & Pippa dolls when I discovered eBay in 2001 and made enough money for two return flights to India. No idea if the furniture is of any value, I keep it 'cos I love it!

 I used to take this Victorian silver purse everywhere with me, dangling it from my little finger. It was probably the poshest dinner money purse in Walsall.

Using this minuscule Common Prayer book at Sunday School was the highlight of the tedious church services I endured until I was 11 and was given the choice as to whether I wanted to continue attending.  I chose atheism but still treasure my tiny Victorian relic, like the purse above, bought for a pittance from a junk shop as a child - Victorian stuff was hideously unfashionable in the early 1970s.

Useful? No. Makes me happy when I look at it? Oh, yes. I'm not one for rules but I'm more than happy to follow the wise words of William Morris, he knew a thing or two about fabulously furnished homes.

“If you want a golden rule that will fit everything, this is it: Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” 

WEARING: Vintage psychedelic catsuit (99p, eBay, 2011), 1970s Jeff Banks for W1 balloon sleeved blouse (50p, car boot sale, 2006), Stuart Weizmann boots (£2, charity clearance shop), Indian tribal jewellery (fiercely haggled over in Indian markets since 1999)

Here's a fairly late addition to our home, Frank. Its been a year since he decided to adopt us and we've pandered to his every need ever since, hence the reason that he's the size of a tank.

We're back at work this weekend, trading with the fabulous Judy's Affordable Vintage Fair at London's achingly hip Bethnal Green, details HERE. We've got so much cool stock that if I didn't already own it I'd be buying it all and bringing it home.

See you soon!