You're a Fake, Baby!

Yes, it's van Jenga time again.

And this gap by the side door is to squeeze in the coolbox, our clothes and the booze. We've got this packing malarky down to an artform. 

We've got over 1,000 items squeezed in the van, this is just a tiny snippet of some of the latest stock that'll be gracing our rails at End of the Road. I've failed miserably at snapping our customers wearing their Kinky Melon purchases this festival season, I shall try and get my act together and take photographs for this, our grand finale!

In the meantime, here's some of the outfits I've been wearing this week.

These photos look tiny on my screen, click on the image to enlarge them

I made this skirt from a length of vintage fabric snaffled for £2 from one of the clearance chazzas back in June. I've taken it to every festival we've been to this summer and but hadn't worn it so out it came for a shopping trip on Friday.

I'm wearing it with a 1970s Ayesha Davar shirred cheesecloth blouse (eBay, 2020) , a pair of cowboy boots, one of my many vintage tooled leather belts and these rather lovely mustard tasselled earrings still on their original Zara card, £2 from the Midlands Air Ambulance charity shop or - as we refer to it in Walsall - the ambo.

There's some folk out there who say that if you haven't worn anything for six months then you need to get rid of it. Sod that for a game of soldiers, the last time I wore this Mexicana dress was 2018 and it ain't going anywhere! I love my clothes like some people love their children.

Created by couturier & sack dress innovator, John Cavanagh and celebrated fashion illustrator, Alfredo Bouret (the handsome devil in this photograph below by Norman Parkinson), Mexicana was said to have been home to some of the most fabulous dresses of the late 1960s and early 1970s.

Born in Mexico in 1926, Alfredo Bouret's love of fashion and illustration won him a scholarship to Paris during the golden age of couture. His illustrations were in high demand and he attracted the attention of the greatest designers of the day, creating work for such luminaries as Balanciaga, Valentino, Chanel, Dior and Pierre Balmain. Bouret was widely admired for his illustrations of native Mexican costumes and, during the 1968 Summer Olympics, held in Mexico City, many people become interested in having the country's textiles referenced in their clothing. 

During this time Alfredo was working for British Vogue and was approached by John Cavanagh, who asked him to assist opening the Mexicana boutique on Lower Sloane Street which went on to delight the London set for many years.

Here's Dollyrockers model Patti Boyd wearing a Mexicana dress

Mexicana dresses are rare and commend prices in the £££s and even ££££s. Mine was £5 from a charity stall at a car boot sale in London. It was in a terrible state, covered in questionable stains with a broken zip and shredded side seams but it didn't take me long to restore it to its former glory.

I'm wearing something else that hasn't seen the light of day in years, this 1970s silver apple atomiser filled with solid Charlie perfume - still smelling exactly the same as the scent I loved as a teenager. After looking back through the blog archives I discovered that I'd bought it from a car boot sale in 2011 for 25p. Why the long absence? No idea but, when you buy stuff that's over 40 years old, there's no rush to wear it all the time, it's hardly going to go out of fashion. 

This maxi dress is neither vintage or couture but as a collector of Kuchi tribal jewellery the print couldn't have been more perfect plus it was £2....yes, two quid!!!

I had to laugh when I looked at the print with my specs on .... its fake Hermes! I've come across the scarves a gazillion times but it's the first time I've found a dress. (These vintage brass cabochon bangles were my Mum's, if you're wondering.)

The print is quite well matched-up (a real bugbear with modern clothes) and the fabric, a mix of 60% cotton, 32% polyester and 8% spandex isn't too bad at all but the white plastic buttons, which Jon described as off some granny's nursing home dress, were hideous so I replaced them with some classier looking brass buttons from my stash. We've got a £1 charity shop nearby, I often buy tatty vintage clothing just to remove the buttons and zips, it's cheaper than buying them new.

I love this dress and it got so many compliments when I was out on Sunday, even the scary hard-faced lady, who rarely cracks a smile as we browse the charity shop rails together shouted That dress is f*cking amazing!

As you can see, I'm in my Lottas. My foot is back to normal - although I'm doing some strengthening exercises (thanks, Amanda & Vicki) and wearing my foot support for my daily workouts. To keep up the designer vibe I'm wearing Gucci sunglasses (from a Greek supermarket) and my vintage Medusa belt buckle for some pseudo Versace vibes!

New-to-me additions to my wardrobe include another Marion Donaldson piece (with the 1970s-era purple and gold label), a gloriously off-the-shoulder, feather trimmed seersucker maxi dress in a superb shade of zesty orange. It needs taking up a few inches which I'll tackle once we're back from End of the Road. 

This handmade psychedelic 1960s maxi dress with frog fasteners and a side split fits like a glove and makes me feel like a slinky Bond villain or something from a Trechikoff print. I've packed it ready to wear at the weekend.  

Although its modern, this leather bag, made in Italy by Sofia Cardoni, has got that 1970s slouchy look I love. Google tells me that it originally retailed at  €317 - I paid £3. 

I'm off to pack my sequins & horned headdress for the final time this Summer. 

See you in September!