Of Clothes and Cats

 Once upon a time, I had two wardrobes, the one for my twice-yearly Indian adventures was packed with vintage block printed silk & cotton dresses and skirts, coloured with natural vegetable dyes in rich earthy shades, always ankle-grazing and never worn with heels. My wardrobe for the remaining ten months of the year was bursting with everything flamboyantly 1970s, psychedelic catsuits, maxi dresses in retina-burning hues, luridly printed blouses and voluminous floor-length skirts, mostly in synthetic fabrics and worn with jet-black hair, false eyelashes & huge platforms. 

Here I am in 2016 clad in a 1970s nylon maxi dress, opening my travel suitcase in anticipation of my next Indian adventure (post HERE).

Over the last few years, my travel wardrobe started to creep into everyday life and I realised that the joy I experienced in India wasn't just down to my love of the country but also because I felt more "me" in the clothes I wore when I was there. When Covid struck and the festivals, fairs and nights-out stopped, I packed the flamboyant gear away and, after unpacking and reassessing it a year later, picked out a few of my favourite pieces and sold everything else. I've also ditched the huge heels and the black hair dye (favouring cool dark brown) but still love my false eyelashes when I'm off out.

I got so much pleasure selling my wardrobe to the festival-goers at the End of the Road 2021, seeing how amazing they looked in my old favourites and from the eBay customers who sent me photos of them wearing the clothes that were once mine. Of course, the cash I've made has also been a thrill. For decades, 1970s fashion was sneered at by vintage aficionados and, for many years, I'd picked up clothes from my favourite era for an absolute pittance. Now the 1970s is (and I hate to use this expression) on-trend, I've been able to upgrade my wardrobe with beautifully constructed, ethically produced, top quality clothing with some of the proceeds of the vintage garments I've parted with.

Whilst most of my block printed or hand embroidered Indian clothes are vintage originals, I've got no problem with buying new (as long as the company has proven to have great ethics). Having visited several factories and artisans on my travels around India I know that the clothes are produced in exactly the same way as they were fifty years ago. 

I'd not been aware of Kharibu until I won these two dresses on eBay for a fiver each. I Googled the label and loved everything on their website. I'd had my eye on this shirred maxi dress for a while and after seeing it was reduced in their sale decided it was high time that I made it mine. They recently featured in British Vogue who wrote, Kharibu is an ethical, sustainable and conscious label, working with a team of artisans in Rajasthan to create beautiful hand-block printed clothing. Vegetable dyes, wooden blocks and talented hands are the heart and soul of every piece, celebrating thousand-year-old traditions and unique craftsmanship. Designed in the UK, created in India and produced in small batches, Kharibu offers bohemian and vintage-inspired clothing which doesn’t cost the earth.

Something else I'm moving away from is having a seasonal wardrobe. My clothes fill me with joy and I want to wear them all year round. Here in the middle of the UK, we don't often have extremes of temperature, it's not unknown to experience 15°C days in both January & August whilst heatwaves and cold snaps rarely last more than a week. Last year, after spending the first full winter at home for over twenty years I discovered that, with decent thermals, I could wear my long-sleeved cotton dresses all year long. 

My year-round wardrobe worked just fine on Thursday as it was snowing when we ventured forth to the charity shops. Pickings were slim but we managed to find a 1980s Clockhouse jumper (remember them?) labelled "Knitted by hand", a 1980s Orvis jacket and a Laura Ashley printed needlecord mini skirt from the same era. The red leather belt is another 1980s piece, made in England by The Bryant Belt Company. I'm keeping the wooden hairslide and the William Morris address book - something I've been after for ages as my current one is full. There was some menswear, but Jon's snaffled the cable knit cardi and suede Vans and Tony's claimed the merino wool jumper!

Friday was eBay listing day so I spent most of it outside with my camera. It was another cold day with intermittent snow showers but fortunately, the pesky white stuff didn't stick. Under my Dilli Grey dress (from eBay) I wore a 1970s Wolsey ribbed wool & Lurex bodysuit I bought from the clearance chazza for £1 back in the summer, Mum's Biba boots, a me-made hat and my Mascob for Liberty "Badin" jacket.

We had a visitor! I've seen this lovely boy wandering around the avenue for a while but he's always run off when we've approached him. Last Saturday he called round and ate Stephen's leftovers on the doorstep and on Friday he spotted me at the PC and sat beneath the window watching. He didn't let either of us touch him but he demolished three sachets of cat food and enjoyed some Whiskas Temptations while Jon stood a couple of feet away.

He returned on Saturday morning and demolished a bowlful of biscuits and a sachet of cat food.

How do you feel about having a brother, Mr Squirrel?

The forecast for Saturday was bang-on, with heavy rain replacing the icy temperatures and snow showers of previous days. The morning was spent repairing stuff, hand-washing and cleaning and when the rain finally stopped we took ourselves off for a long walk around the block. The Naked Generation dress (via eBay) is my go-to garment recently, usually worn with a cable knit cardi and wool socks but yesterday, it was accompanied by my 1960s sheepskin boots from the charity shop and my trusty vintage suede coat.

I made a start on my third book of 2022, another Shardlake mystery. CJ Sansom's books are mighty beasts but his writing is so good that I often power through them in a matter of days.

We had a visitor for breakfast on Sunday morning. After two sachets of food and a handful of biscuits, he sat calmly on the patio, having a wash in the sunshine.

As usual, we'd filled a bag of donations during the week and drove down to the clearance charity shop to drop them off ..and to have a rummage.

We came back with a Chaps by Ralph Lauren shirt, a 1980s midi dress, a 1980s Hawaiian shirt, an Anokhi shirt, a 1980s St Michael velvet bolero with fancy diamonte buttons, a 1970s Crimplene blazer made in Finland, a 1980s Indian cotton floral jacket, a Per Una midi dress, a wool "Hemingway" waistcoat and some leather ankle boots by Moshulu.

Amazon donates a lot of their unsold and returned stock to Cancer UK and, at £2, thought I'd give these Nooril balls a try. Made from 100% New Zealand wool, you stick them in the tumble drier and they significantly reduce the drying time. We only use our tumble drier during the winter for the bedding, everything else gets hung up on the ceiling airer in the utility room and in the Summer everything gets pegged on the washing line. I used to have some spiky plastic balls which did the same job (but made a right old racket), at least these will be quiet - and I can always juggle with them if they don't work!

If it's worth doing, it's worth overdoing! My new dress got another outing. This time, I wore it with my fake snake boots and I'm in good company, Beate's wearing hers today, too (HERE). My fake fur gilet was a secondhand find last week. The vintage Gujarati amulet & Banjara earrings were bought in India.

If you're wondering about the other new dress I've bought, it'll be having an outing tomorrow, it's our first Spoons All-Dayer of 2022.

See you soon.