Kitchen Sync

I was just on the way out of the shop after a fruitless search of one of the local chazzas when the manager called me back. I've put something aside for you but I'm not sure if it's a bit old fashioned, she said, handing over this 1960s wool maxi dress in a wild combination of orange and red. Old fashioned? I couldn't hand my cash over fast enough!

A few shops on and I noticed a chunky gold zip peeping out of a box of shoes on the floor. Further investigation revealed it to be attached to a pair of unworn River Island black suede platforms in my size. What with the hat I bought back in the Autumn the entire outfit cost me less than £10. With prices like those who needs high street fast fashion?

 I had got into the habit of photographing our charity shop finds as soon as we got them home but we've bought so much lately I've let it slip. Above are Wednesday morning's vintage discoveries. Clockwise from top left: Loden pea coat by Gloverall, the luxury British designer brand who introduced the duffel coat to non-civilians in 1950; Trina Lewis & Marjon Couture at Baker Sportswear 1970s does the 1950s sundress; Unworn 1960s elbow length silver lurex gloves by Dents (British glove makers with a royal warrant, established in 1777) ; Ivory layered maxi dress with macrame insets by British boutique label, Mr Darren; Mod dress suit in Crimplene by Fulton, London; Donkey jacket (to the uninitiated, a traditional piece of British work wear) and a handmade lined polyester flower print maxi.

As threatened in my last post, I'm coordinating my outfits to match the rooms in my Lundby doll's house so today's red and orange maxi means you get to see the kitchen. Kitchen sync, you see.

The orange fitted kitchen was produced in Sweden by Lundby between 1974 and 1979. It wasn't super cheap (I paid £15) but I'd sold some of the remaining bits from Mum's doll's house as well as some leftovers from the furniture that came with the recent charity shop doll's house so I had a decent wedge of cash in my Paypal account to fritter away on groovy 1970s furniture.

In real life I dislike fitted kitchens - our real-life one is freestanding - but in the mini world I love this.

The washing machine and table & chairs were in the aforementioned bag of furniture as were the pot plants on the windowsill. The light fitting is half a cat toy threaded with a plug chain and attached to a lid from the conditioner that comes with my hair dye.

• The blind is a piece of paper rolled onto a kebab skewer, trimmed with beads. To replicate the pull I've threaded a snap fastener with elastic. 
• I downloaded the printable retro food packaging from HERE.
• The "bin" is a lid from a glue stick with some polythene stuffed inside. The towel rail is a painted lolly stick with push pins for knobs and the tea towels are cut from a dishcloth.
• The plates are buttons with a scaled down image of a Taunton Vale tray.
• I made the Atomic-style wall clock from a cork and some dressmaker's pins.

Jon took the van for a service yesterday and explored the neighbouring chazzas to pass the time. I've got a present for you, he announced when he came home, presenting me with this amazing '70s maxi.

Vintage knife pleat maxi (Charity shop, £3); Original '70s suede platform boots & Panda, London hat (charity shopped); Vintage pendant (present from Emma) 

Killer sleeves, a print so loud you can hear it in outer space and colours that fit effortlessly into my wardrobe, you can see why we've spent the last twenty-six years together. I wonder which room I'll match this dress to?

Wearing: Vintage wool maxi (£5), River Island boots (£1.99), Felt hat (£2.49), Indian choker (present from Ilaria)

See you soon!