Inside Number 62

It's official, I'm now utterly obsessed with dolls houses.

This was the original 1932 catalogue advert for my inherited dolls house. The Lines Brothers toy-making company was founded by brothers Walter, William and Arthur Lines on returning to civilian life after WW1. They used Tri-Ang as a brand name since a triangle is made from three lines and at one time the London-based company claimed to be the largest toy maker in the world. From the 1930s through until the 1950s Tri-Ang produced a large proportion of Britain's dolls houses - each style was issued with a different number (numbers 49 through to 53 are Art Deco mansions to kill for, see HERE). During the late-1960s business started to flounder and sadly, in 1971, Tri-Ang ceased trading.

Mum's childhood pride and joy can no longer be described as magnificent, there's a hole in the roof, the chimneys and one of the garage doors are missing as is a double upstairs window but, according to the blogs I've recently discovered it's extremely rare for the single downstairs window to survive and to have a functioning door knocker and letterbox plate. When I was little the light bulbs in each room all worked, powered by a battery almost as big as my head attached to the back.

As a child no.62 always felt like a grander version of The Cottage, the house that I grew up in.

WEARING: Handmade crochet and fabric maxi skirt (present from Liz), floppy felt hat and vintage suede platforms (charity shopped), Indian tribal pendant (a gift from Ila Pop), Off-the-shoulder shirred hippy top (£1, retail sale)

I seem to spend a large part of my life hanging around the derelict homes of my childhood. Here's me in The Cottage last November.

The metal windows still had their original curtains - until I got my hands on them! They were filthy and rotten and I'm sure I can come up with a far groovier alternative.

Overhead are the original electrics (which I've now removed). I'm going to screw cup hooks into the ceiling to suspend some home-made lamp shades.

Can I restore it? After a weekend dedicated to all things miniature it's beginning to take shape. The new floors are down, the ceilings are painted and the staircase is a mini replica of our full-sized one down to the Wall of Misery and the papered risers on the staircase.

Like Stonecroft, our real house, no.62 is going to be decorated with skip finds, inherited pieces and hand-made stuff - no running off to the shops and buying new - I want a house filled with personality and not a soulless show home.

The latest additions to No. 62 include some inherited 1940s Dol-Toi furniture, a Tudor style dresser I painted teal, a fireplace I painted pink and tiled (with Poundland's 3 for a quid Washi tape), a pair of brass candlesticks, a Robin Hood book and an Art Deco style clock.  I made the rug from a cut down napkin (which was in the parcel Sarah sent me) and trimmed it with pom-poms. The reading lamp was the top from a used-up bottle of Jon's shave cream covered with Washi tape and glued to a Bakelite thimble I found in the button box. The pouffe was the lid off a carton of milk covered in felt, edged with vintage braid and with cocktail sticks for legs. The hipster stag's head was sawn off a broken 1950s Kenyan antelope figurine and glued to a shield shaped piece of cardboard. The fancy coat was photocopied from the book Lynn sent me,blu-tacked to a coat hanger I made from jeweller's wire. The Lundby Gustavian-style clock, bread bin, ceramic poodle and mannequin were things I already had and Helen is a brooch Tania made me years ago.  

This obsession will have to be put on the back-burner very soon - we've got back-to-back vintage fairs to prepare for next weekend. 

Linking to Patti & the gang for Visible Monday. See you soon!