Acceptable In The Eighties

Who says that Eighties fashion was all shell suits, shoulder pads and Lady Di dresses? Anokhi, never a trend-led label, was still producing hand-made, block printed cotton dresses just as it had done since 1970. The original owner of this dress bought it over thirty years ago and recently decided to part with it, considering herself too old to wear it. Whilst I'd argue to the death for women to wear whatever the f*ck they like, if it means that I can get a chance to own it then I'll keep quiet and just hand over my cash.

I'm happy to report that this dress is of the usual outstandingly high Anokhi quality. The yoke is quilted, the buttons are covered, the cuffs of the bell shaped sleeves are lined so they can be rolled back and the hem is weighted. The back of the waistband is shirred and of course there's pockets. Not a shoulder pad or a synthetic fibre in sight. Perfection.

As Anokhi use natural dyes in the production process there's often some fading to their vintage pieces, not that it bothers me, discolouration is like a wrinkle or two, merely proof that a garment has had a past.

So what have I been up to since I last posted?

Apart from feeding our garden visitors, namely Bernard the hedgehog (for whom we bought special hedgehog food from last week's car boot sale) and our resident fox family who, this week, brought their cat-sized cubs along for supper, I've received these bastard massive macrame plant hangers in the post from my lovely friend, Sarah. Aren't they whoppers?

You'll be pleased to know that I finally got around to sorting out the mending pile and replaced two zips, eleven twenty-two buttons, three perished suede jacket side seams, three patches, two hooks and eyes, two torn linings, two underarm rips, a wonky pocket and refashioned a knackered suede top into a poncho. I've spent nine hours ironing and have the blisters to prove it. We've pitched the trade tent in the garden, laid the flooring, hung the side curtains and filled it with stock. I've sewn some drapes (using secondhand fabric, obviously!) to hang up at the front, hopefully giving the festival shop a touch of theatrical glamour. I've also made thirty wired headbands from vintage fabric. Phew! This week I've got to check everything is priced then we should be ready for Glastonbury with time to spare.

Much of last week was spent in my kaftan.

On Thursday we had some sunshine and I had a hankering to dress in the way I spent most of my free time in the 1990s, in a vintage peasant blouse, suede micro mini and clogs.

I've also booked a little getaway for when the festival season finishes, a week on a Greek island. Bliss!

From the left: Vronni, Fig and Monica - click on the names to visit their blogs

On Saturday I caught the newly introduced direct train from Walsall to London (no more changing trains at bloody Birmingham New Street, I can't tell you how happy that makes me) and met up with these gorgeous women. Despite following each others blogs for years - and in Monica's case, almost a decade - we'd never met before. We had no problem spotting each other at Euston station though, we recognised each other immediately.

After a chat over tea in a nearby cafe where we talked about everything from bangles and cake to our mutual hatred for Trump and Brexit we made our way to the underground. A smiley man told me that he'd spotted us on the tube and thought we all looked amazing and asked very nicely if he could some photos. We obliged and in return he kindly offered to take some group photos for us. It turned out he was a professional photographer (HERE) on his way to London Menswear Fashion Week and he even photographed The Clash in 1982. Cool!

We took the tube to Liverpool Street where we giggled at an anti-Trump art installation, wandered around some aspirational shops and explored Spitalfields Market before stopping for lunch at Leon, recommended by Fig, our resident Londoner. The food was delicious with loads of veggie & vegan options and I was dead impressed that you could get lunch and a beer in London and still get change from a tenner.

After lunch we found a bustling vintage indoor market and amongst the sportswear and 1990s gear we found some absolutely gorgeous stuff although the two things I loved most were a cheesecloth blouse for £60 (!!!!) and an Uzbek coat for £165 so they both stayed on the rail. Mental prices aside, every stallholder we encountered was lovely, friendly, complimentary and welcoming and left us to admire their stock without the hard sell.

After meeting up with Monica's husband we had drinks at Euston before I hugged everyone goodbye and dashed off to catch the train back to Walsall. What a fantastic day! I think you can probably see from our body language how well we all got along. I can't wait to do it again after the festival season and now there's a direct train from Walsall (which I can't help but bang on about constantly) there's no stopping me.

See you soon!