Vintage Vixen

Other than a love of The Smiths, Vietnam war films and travel my brother and I don't have a great deal in common. He's 6' 4", shaven-headed and somewhat reserved with a love of sport and high-end clothing.

He's camera-shy, too. You'll have to make do with this picture of him and Mum in 1969.

When we were clearing Dad's house he wanted to chuck these curtains, which had hung in his bedroom since the 1960s, into the skip but I had other ideas.

Crazy fool! Those bewhiskered soldiers were just waiting to be transformed into a maxi waistcoat.

Feather pendant from the lovely Lucy @ Lucy's Lounge via darling Annie

I cut the pieces out almost a month ago and bought a length of emerald green sari fabric from the market for lining but with vintage fairs, gardening, house-clearing and life in general I hadn't had the time to finish it off until yesterday.

Waistcoat was made using a 1971 Butterick pattern (£1, Vicky's antique & collectors fair), vintage frog fastenings (courtesy of the gorgeous Tamera), lined with sari fabric (£4, Walsall market), sewn together with thread bought as part of a job lot from a car boot sale (approx. 10p) - Total cost £5.10

I'm glad I waited, sitting in the sunshine with Jon blasting out some tunes from Gilbert's in-car stereo, hand-sewing the hem with a pair of lazy cats at my feet made for a pretty much perfect afternoon.

Followed by Jon's home-made pizza and a few ice-cold beers I'm starting to love our mixed-up weekday weekends.

After a two day respite it's back to work this morning, starting with a trip to the Wednesday morning car boot sale and sorting Gilbert out in readiness for Glasto and then compiling a festival shopping list of cider, pretzels, cider and yet more cider.

See you soon!

I'm one spoilt vintage biatch this week with not one but two parcels of joy arriving with the postman.

Check out my newest silver ring on my little finger!

This amazing ruffled nylon and lurex embellished cocktail dress and matching waistcoat came all the way from Arizona, courtesy of the lovely Janice. The perfect ladylike piece for calling on my friend and jumble sale organiser, Joan, this morning.

Also in the parcel was a cute kitty card, a gorgeous vintage case for my reading glasses, a sterling silver ring and the very same 1960s Barbie case that my neighbours' older daughter owned (and I coveted). This isn't for creepy dolls though, it's my new favourite handbag and the perfect size for stashing a bottle of wine.

Maxi worn with vintage kids' tee shirt and far too much bastard jewellery

Dear Jo sent me this Miss Pat quilted maxi. Not only will it keep me warm (our house is always freezing once the sun sets) but it's got a duel purpose, it's the best sewing accessory ever. The padded fabric doubles up as a pincushion and the quilting makes it the perfect knee protector when I'm scrabbling around on the floor cutting out pattern pieces.

Did I mention second-hand? Of course I did. What blog post of mine doesn't?!

From Wednesday's car boot sale I came away with 15 vintage vinyl albums, a pair of Holkham Pottery "owl" mugs and matching cream jug, a 1970s split level table and two handmade 1960s cushions and still got change from a fiver.

An Eighties crushed velvet leotard (perfect as a warm layer under a maxi dress), a 1970s girl guide tee shirt (child's tee shirts are nice and tight, just the way I like 'em), a Welsh Tapestry suit (destined for the Kinky Melon Autumn stock) and a 1970s Indian cheesecloth caftan. All but the suit were 20p each.

Five pots of pansies for a quid.

Antique leather gloves, how gorgeous are the acorn embellished ones? (Shame I've got hands the size of a navvy). 1970s brocade platforms and a S Fox & Co. Paragon umbrella (the brand used by John Steed in 1960s cult TV series, The Avengers)

The reason I called on Joan earlier is because she'd had a wedding dress donated and hoped I'd be able to sell it. Now I'm as interested in weddings as I am nuclear physics but have to concede that this dress is beautiful (and a much sought after larger size, too). It was worn in 1964 at St Lawrence's in Darlaston and the couple are still happily married. Not bad going for something almost fifty years old.

When we were in the church hall we spotted this 1970s New Home 632 lurking up the corner. Jon used my sewing machine to take in some trousers last week and has moaned ever since about how crap it is, how the feed doesn't work, that the tension's gone to pot and the light's knackered so we made a donation to the church roof fund and he came away happy. The blind hem setting should finish my current project off a treat (that's if I can make head or tail of the instruction manual).

1970s two-piece worn with candy-coloured platforms (£5, local boutique), Ted Lapidus vintage sunnies (£1.95, Acorns) and my beaded peacock bag that's been missing for months

Gilbert & Jon are ready for Glasto but I'm not. I've got four days to get my shit together, finish my sewing projects and pack my bags (as well as squeeze Liz's birthday celebrations, an 18th party and a photo shoot into the mix).

Have a great weekend.

Have you met Vix's bitches?

The feisty pair called round to raid my wardrobe before dancing the night away at Studio 54.

The soundtrack to the afternoon.

Mutual preening.

Time to chill and catch up with the latest gossip in Smash Hits and The Record Mirror.

The reigning Black Country disco dancing champion with the medal to prove it.

Don't you just hate it when the biatches wear your clothes (and your Barry M lipstick) better than you do?

After a million outfit changes and a gallon of fizz the terrible twosome are finally dressed and ready to party, leaving a trail of feathers, glitter and empty bottles in their wake.

No, I haven't turned pimp. My girls are part of our vintage lovin' family and were over today for a promo shoot for a very cool Studio 54 night coming to Wolverhampton soon.

Vintage clothes, retro tunes and time spent with some of my gorgeous sisters-in-vintage. What a fabulous way to spend a rainy Sunday afternoon. Now I really must go pack for Glasto!

See you before I go.

Linking to Patti's Visible Monday.

Tickets - check, camera - check, my body weight in cider and cans of gin & tonic - check, fake fur coat - check, bikini - check, a bag crammed with insane & impractical clothing - check.

1960s floral catsuit (£10, eBay 2011), headband (25p, Peacocks sale, 2010), vintage Ted Lapidus sunglasses, 1960s vinyl vanity case (20p, jumble sale) and a shed load of bastard jewellery

The sun is shining and we're off to Worthy Farm in less than an hour. I should be an old hand at festival-going by now but I'm just as ridiculously excited as I was the first time.

Feck me, I'm finally going to see The Rolling Stones!!!!!

See you in a week (unless you've got tickets and I'll see you there).

xxx

What a week! The Glastonbury Festival is always amazing and, what with half decent weather and Rolling Stones headlining, this year was the best yet.

After a four hour drive down south, we set up camp, chatted to our new neighbours and decimated our rum & pretzel supply.

I knew my St Michael 1960s swimsuit would come in handy, headband made by me for Glastonbury 2010

After a lazy Wednesday in the sun we packed our bags with booze and headed off to the Stone Circle for singing and dancing & fireworks around the camp fire,

before witnessing the opening ceremony.

I was bastard freezing by midnight but far too excited to bother with a coat. My chazza shop feather boa got admired by a finalist from The Voice - aren't I special?

On Thursday I managed to parade around in my floral finery before the wind got up, the heavens opened and we scuttled back to Gilbert. I'm linking to Patti's Visible Monday as no-one could miss me!

Wearing a me-made bikini top and a '70s patchwork maxi from eBay, Ganesh pendant (handmade by Krista-licious)

We're hardy festival goers so it takes more than a bit of a downpour to curtail our fun. We waterproofed up and met some mates down at the Salon Carousel for boozing and chat.

Salon Carousel's in The Unfairground, a broken down psychedelic circus and go-go show featuring Happy Monday's Bez's Acid House. I'd bumped into Bez in the campervan camp site earlier but I was far too shy to ask for a picture.

On Friday Glasto kicked off proper and despite 12 hours of rain the mud was barely worth worrying about. It turned out to be the only day wellies were necessary.

We met up with our friend Jon to see Enter Shikari (disappointing), Billy Bragg and Don Letts.

Wearing Kiss Me Kitty leggings, Edie Pop designed Vix bag and a 1960s fun fur coat borrowed from the stockroom.

Freezing my arse off during Seasick Steve's performance. The excitement proved too much for Jon's trusty digital camera and it packed up just before the Arctic Monkeys set.

Thank goodness for mobile phones. Jon's captured a bit of the amazing The Bombay Royale on Saturday afternoon. We also saw Billy Bragg again (not intentionally, we were too lazy to move) and Laura Mvula.

Here's a taster of The Rolling Stones madness. We got to the Pyramid Stage 5 hours before they came on (that's how immense Glastonbury is). We rocked out to Elvis Costello and Primal Scream in the meantime. Apparently there were over 100,000 spectators in the arena. (If you watch any of the BBC footage we're standing next to the red flare during Sympathy For The Devil.)

Festival earrings from Queen Helga, 1960s pink crochet poncho (from a car boot sale) worn over a 1970s maxi dress.

What can I say? I've been going to gigs for 33 years and those two-and-a-half hours blew my mind.

I wasn't too emotional to continue partying till the early hours though, catching another set by The Bombay Royale in the Pussy Parlour club tent, swigging gin and eating chips at 3am.

Miraculously Jon found a tatty old camera abandoned by a bin on the way back to camp. We stuck in our memory card and the picture quality was passable. This is Sunday afternoon at the Spirit of '71 stage, the best place for psychedelia and trippy weirdness.

1970s child's psychedelic cotton maxi (Ebay, 2005), floral crown (the fabulous Desiree)

Not dressing in the standard festival uniform of designer wellies, cut-off Levis, a khaki parka and a plaited fringe tends to draw a lot of attention .... I love it!

The downside of having a camper van is that the camp site feels like miles away. At peak times it can take 2 hours to walk back but luckily our mates are campers so we can leave our coats and extra booze in their tents to save missing out on any action.

It was Lilly's first Glasto. Doesn't she look the part in her Roses tee?

During the day we saw John Otway and Space Ritual, had a picnic at the Farmer's Market and caught some of Sergio Mendes. We were too lazy to make it to Nick Cave or Evan Dando in time.

Mumford and Sons were headlining on Sunday night and we've seen them before and aren't that keen so went exploring alternative Glasto instead.

I've been pestering to go to the insect circus for years and finally got my way.

Block 9 (the post-apocalyptic city) with it's debauched gay bar were a sight to behold...

...and we nearly wet ourselves laughing playing with the old skool seaside style cut-outs.

After a dance in the post-apocalyptic disco we finished the evening around the camp fire. It was supposed to be an early-ish night but our intentions went to pot.

In true Glasto tradition we met up with the gang for a Ploughman's at the Riverside Inn in Cheddar. Four hours sleep and not a shower between us in 6 days, no wonder nobody wanted to sit next to us.

1970s Prova maxi (Misfit Sarah)

My other hip's knackered, I look like death and I can't get a comb through my hair and guess what? We'll be doing it all over again on Thursday at CamperJam. God help us.

Just as well I can't walk, I've a billion blog posts to catch up on.

See you soon!

Where's this week gone? Two days at home and we're off again, this time to Weston Park in Shropshire, taking Kinky Melons Retro Boutique on the road to the revellers at CamperJam.

We've been going to the festival since it first started and I've blogged about it HERE, HERE& HERE but this will be the first year we'll be trading.

Gilbert's rammed to his pop-top roof with stock and our groovy 1970s trailer tent will act as a pop-up shop. I've packed mirrored disco balls, me-made bunting and Jon's knocked up some fabulous hand-made chalk boards (thanks to Sam's tutorial) and enough stock to clothe every attendee and his best mate.

With four days worth of booze and food we've had to be extra strict with our packing, no changes for night-time or sneaky extras. The glorious heatwave we've got forecast better be true or I'm buggered, get this lot wet and I'll be serving customers in my knickers.

As with all festivals I pack by the outfit, the one I'm wearing plus a change for every day I'm there. Each garment gets rolled up with the coordinating accessories tucked inside to save messing around when I get there. The pink floral case holds 1950s fold-up coat hangers and it follows me around the world , it's one of my travel essentials.

A vintage negligee for flitting to the portaloo first thing, my swimsuit (so I can top up my tan while I work), rainbow over-the-knee socks for when it gets chilly after sunset and new knickers (I treated myself to some new M&S ones pre-Glasto, about from a disastrous 5 pack I bought pre-India, the last ones I bought were 7 years ago!). A bra? Not if I can help it!

My fabulous 1960s Barbie travel case (from the fabulous Janice) will serve as this weekend's bag, some neon pink gladiators (from a jumble sale) and the suede knee high sandals I'm wearing.

After last week's camera catastrophe I'm taking TWO!

My make-up kit - false lashes and glue, Barry M eye-liner, lipstick and nail paint (which I'll use once we've set up camp), eye shadow, cream blush so old that the pattern's worn off the container, bindis from Tamil Nadu in 2011, tweezers and a make-up mirror (from darling Krista).

A Sassy Vamps crown (courtesy of the divine Desiree), hair grips, flowers, headbands, bands...anything to detract from my windswept locks.

In Gilbert there's a sun hat, parasol, fingerless gloves, a fake fur coat, plastic mac and wellies, Batiste dry shampoo, a comb, wet wipes, sun screen, toothbrushes, paste & floss, deodorant, anti-bacterial hand gel, body lotion and moisturiser.

Sunflower culotte suit (last seen HERE), feather boa (£1.45, SENSE), 1960s psychedelic St Michael scarf (20p, jumble sale), suede sandal boots (Office sale, 2011)

Have a fabulous weekend and see you on the other side!

I'd love to have posted a heap of pictures of vintage Volkswagens, hedonistic festival goers and dogs in fancy dress from CamperJam but from the moment we parked up on Thursday until closing time yesterday we never got a minute.

The 1970s trailer tent has been unused for almost 2 years so we'd practised putting it up in the garden beforehand but it seemed a lot more complicated when observed by a crowd of seasoned pros with trendy pop-up gazebos.

Next we unloaded Gilbert, selecting stock suitable for a heatwave (omitting the heavier dresses, coats, knitwear and fake furs I'd packed pre-Glasto) and display it enticingly.

All stalls need bunting....

and a changing room.

The front view with retro car parts and vintage camping gear to the side.

Our living space was conveniently situated around the back (perfect for popping back for chilled beer, fresh fruit and pretzels).

Happy with the shop set up we locked it all away and set to work on our camp - easier said than done, like my right hip our awning got wrecked at Glasto, so we had to figure out how to erect the replacement. At 10pm Jon knocked up a chana massala, we cracked open the canned G&Ts and collapsed into bed just after midnight.

Psychedelic maxi from Krista-licious, vintage straw hat from a car boot sale

We were up bright and early to greet the first festival goers, trading until 10pm when it got too dark to see the merchandise.

We'd planned to catch some of the Friday night entertainment over in the main arena but ended up hitting the sack instead.

Maxi dress courtesy of the gorgeous Sarah Misfit, 1930s parasol from a car boot sale.

The public gates opened at 9am so it's just as well we'd had an early night, we were inundated all day.

Jon's dead stock 1960s Levis shorts, tooled belt & leather chappals from street markets in India, trilby nicked from the Kinky Melon stock room.

Somehow work is never too hard when you've an ice cold cider in your hand. I didn't wear shoes from the moment we arrived (and I'm still barefoot now).

A graffiti artist re-did Jon's home-made chalkboard sign .

On Saturday night we closed early enough to catch some live music, grab a bag of chips (a power failure meant that the Glastonbury wood-fired pizza we'd been dreaming about all day couldn't happen) and marvel at the crazy fancy dress outfits.

Dollyrockers silk maxi from eBay (cleverly spotted by Jennie)

Ready to resume trading at 8.30am on Sunday morning.

Deconstructed Diesel waistcoat (chazza shop) & crushed velvet cap (car boot sale)

It was so hot I ended up working in my swimsuit - it didn't seem to scare too many potential punters off, we had another amazing day!

1960s St Michael swimsuit from a jumble sale.

At 5pm we packed up, said our goodbyes and got back home for 8pm - fit for nothing more than a diet of leftovers and trashy TV.

What can I say? The best trading weekend ever (and a cracking suntan) but after a fortnight of portaloos, camp beds and eating on the hoof we're well and truly done for, my hip's officially knackered & I've lost a toe nail between here and Weston Park (I know, I'm such a turn-on). A few days of doing bugger all has never sounded so good.

See you soon!

Linking to Patti's gorgeous gang over at Visible Monday.

Its been ages since we last went to the Wednesday car boot sale so I was up at the crack of dawn, covered in factor 25 and raring to go. In my haste I failed to notice there was any sunshine so I was a bit on the chilly side wandering the fields in my strappy summer dress.

The great thing about a mid-week car boot is that it doesn't start stupidly early so at 9am most traders are only just unpacking.

Jon strides ahead in his excitement to find a bargain.

I have to be sneaky with photos, there's a lot of traders supplementing their benefits so the sight of a bastard massive camera arouses suspicion (not that anyone is going to be making their fortune at these prices).

Our previous two non-summers have lead to loads of car boot sales being cancelled so a dry morning brings the punters out in their hundreds.

It only takes an hour or so to cover the entire field - I can tell at a glance if a heap of clothes is worth a rummage and new stuff, mountains of kids clothes and toys get given a wide berth.

So what's in the bag? Retro car parts, which I won't bore you with, and....

A boxed set of snazzy 1970s wine glasses - which will look even more attractive filled with Rose in front of The Apprentice later. The lady selling them chased after me and insisted I take them as she thought I was the perfect person to appreciate 1970s style.

A groovy 1970s French kitsch-tastic cruet

A retro ice crusher - perfect for our rum and coke

An Aztec print cotton midi dress.

(The elderly lady selling it told me it was "brand new". Yeah, it is unworn but at over 40 years old I think describing it as "new" is a tad optimistic.)

These leather boots.

They looked such good quality I handed over my cash without giving them a second glance - when I got them home I noticed that they're Gucci (I suppose the distinctive stirrup should have given them away).

My dream pair of Victorian-style lace-up leather boots by United Colors Of Benetton.

I thought they would be too small for my hooves but they fit perfectly. There's a handy side zip, too - perfect for a cripple who relies on Jon to do her shoes up.

For Jon - a vintage silk scarf and a nice bit of tweed.

Like me, he couldn't give a toss for fancy labels but it's a pleasant surprise when you unexpectedly find one.

A 1960s starburst wall clock

We've already got a similar one but this onyx & teak beauty was only a quid so I'd have been mad to leave it behind, wouldn't I?

1970s Radley dress (£5, SCOPE charity shop), Greek folk dancing sandals (50p, car boot sale), Vintage tooled leather tote bag (£1, car boot sale), turquoise earrings (Colaba Causeway, Mumbai), Ted Lapidus sunglasses (£1.95, Acorns Hospice)

Spot the difference!

The legend that is the divine Miss Simmonds, Clare, must be a witch. These incredible 1970s red & white leather platforms & lime green silk bag were in a parcel awaiting my return this morning - they match my frock and Barry M nails a treat. (I'd love to show you a close-up of my feet but my missing big toe nail might put you off your dinner!)

The Louis Wain postcard looks just like my Polly Piglet and who's that girl?
There's another car boot sale tomorrow, can life get any more exciting?

See you soon.

I love this dress so much I bought two!

They were listed as a Buy-It-Now on eBay in 2005 and unable to choose between green and blue I bought both. It wasn't just the fabulously bright print, the smaller size or that they were 100% cotton that lured me; they were labelled Van Allen, a groovy British boutique chain Mum & I spent many a happy hour browsing in the 1970s.

Ever wondered about the story behind a vintage dress?

With these I didn't have to. They arrived with a letter from the seller recalling how she fell in love with them when working as a Saturday girl at Van Allen, painstakingly saving her wages to afford both as she couldn't decide which colour she preferred. She wore the blue version to the Isle of Wight Festival in 1970 where it shared the same air as Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison.

In the eight years I've owned them they've travelled to India at least a dozen times and accompanied me to festivals, wild nights out and lazy days in. I never get bored with wearing the same clothes, my taste hasn't changed in over 25 years.

Thursday's Frock: Van Allen maxi (£10, eBay) worn with a stack of cheap bangles and vintage glass beads courtesy of the fabulous Em

I was chased down the aisle of yesterday's car boot sale by a woman offering to swap everything on her ex-high street clothing stall in exchange for my dress. No way, lady. This frock's almost family now.

Talking of car boot sales here's some purchases from yesterday.

A bumper bag of vintage braid, more fabulous boots (these Bertie beauties originally retailed at £149 - they cost me £2) and some funky 1960s fabric.

A pair of 1950s plaster heads, a groovy gents' pattern, a handmade 1950s blouse, a souvenir tote bag, a V&A embroidery book from 1953 and a heap of 1960s evening bags.

Friday's Frock: Van Allen maxi (£10, eBay) worn with a stack of cheap bangles and a charity shop hair flower

I'm off to spend the afternoon in the garden and the evening outside the pub.

We could go jumbling or car booting or visit a vintage fair tomorrow or we might just do nothing, it seems a shame to miss a minute of this glorious sunshine.

Have a fabulous weekend!

Remember me saying that we were going to have a weekend of doing nothing? I was wrong!

Over the last four days the annual Big Gig has taken place throughout the UK, a free event run by volunteers aiming to bring communities together through music. This afternoon it was Walsall's turn to host and with the glorious weather and my old schoolmate Kate organising it would have been a crime not to pop along.

I bet you're surprised that an industrial town like ours has such a grand Victorian park.

Walsall Arboretum, or The Arbo, as we natives affectionately call it, was originally the southern boundary of the Cannock Forest, a great medieval royal hunting ground.

Just a five minutes walk from the town centre it covers an area of over 80 acres,

is home to over 200 species of tree and shrub,

has a bowling green and club house,

several acres of open playing fields,

a Victorian boat house and boating lake,

and bird life galore.

There's a new sculpture garden

Modelling the latest in Chamber Chic - I made my outfit from a 1970s St Michael bed cover. Bastard massive hair flower (courtesy of divine Misfit, Sarah), vintage silk bag (Atomic Mildred herself, Clare), Wooden parrot earrings (fabulous Tamera).

where we met the super-talented Glen

and marvelled over his papier mache sculptures.

The Arbo holds a special place in my heart - as a teenager it's where we snogged unsuitable boys on park benches and knocked back cheap booze bought from the off-licence by older looking mates.

... and the bench behind this Bundy clock (to mark the comings and goings of buses from Birmingham's terminus) saw most of the action.

Of course, now I'm a respectable 40-something those days are way behind me and now we only visit the park for cultural reasons (or as a short cut to Liz and Adrian who live behind it).

Today's event was held at the bandstand, originally built in 1899 and recently restored to it's former glory.

We spent a lovely couple of hours basking in the sunshine and listening to all manner of local music from the West Midlands Police brass band to Aziz, a former guitarist with the Stone Roses.

We even got free water, blessed by Jesus himself.

There's another event next Sunday, including a performance by Steel Pulse founder Basil Gabbidon it's almost a shame we've got a vintage fair booked, the weather looks like it's set to stay fantastic.

What a weekend, two boozy nights out, an amazing jumble sale and a parcel of joy! Tomorrow might have to be a day of rest.

Linking to Patti's Visible Monday.

There's something wonderfully subversive about popping out in a demure dress while the rest of the population bares all in booty shorts and boob tubes.

Not that there's anything wrong with letting it all hang out, the UK's in the grip of the most glorious heatwave in years and once I've transferred the fresh-from-the-market fruit & veg from my bag into the fridge I'll be stripping off and toasting my bod in the sunshine with the best of 'em.

1970s Edwardian-style maxi worn with a £1 hair flower (Scope charity shop), original 70s platforms and an Izzy Bird bag (made by Liz)

And now it's time for a rant....

Am I the only one fed up to the back teeth with this constant harping on about age on blogs? We've been ageing since the day we were born, we can't do anything about it and why would we want to? It's life, get over it. I don't want guidelines on how to dress or to endure this constant flag waving about how much richer our lives are just 'cos we've passed a magical number of birthdays. Some of us have fabulous lives, feel sexy and live life to the full and some don't - that's not age, it's a state of mind.

Some of my favourite bloggers - Tanaya, Ana, Clare, Shubhi, Roz& Amie (to name but a few) are young enough for me to have given birth to but never cease to captivate me with great writing, stylish clothes and unconventional lifestyles , proving that you don't need to be over a certain age to be interesting.

And.... breathe! Now that's off my chest let's get back to me.

I mentioned a parcel of joy arriving over the weekend - both my demure cotton maxi, Gitano* chic outfit along with the bastard massive hair flower were the contents.

* Thanks for the reference point, Dryad.

Although we've yet to meet Sarah Misfit knows my size perfectly. I couldn't chosen better fitting clothes if I'd tried them on in a shop.

You can't beat a big statement flower for detracting from an inch of root regrowth. The weather's far too good to waste it in the bathroom asphyxiating myself on cheap hair dye. Before you lecture me on parabens and all that 21st century schizoid stuff I've downed far too much booze over my lifetime to worry about slapping a few (cruelty-free) chemicals on my scalp once a month.

Michelle Boden two piece worn with an armful of plastic bracelets and second-hand rings and some 1970s painted wood platforms from eBay

Blimey, I'm in a feisty mood today!

Wish me luck, I'm seeing my orthopaedic surgeon tomorrow - the doctor actually wrote "right hip ruined at the Glastonbury Festival" on his referral letter, definitely not your average hip replacement candidate.

See you soon.

Bless her, she's in her element, isn't she? Said the 50p lady fanning herself under her massive straw hat at the boot sale this morning and I am. The mercury's hitting 33, it's been wall to wall sunshine for almost a fortnight and I couldn't be happier.

I'm wearing clothes that normally only see the light of day in India, barefoot more often than not and best of all, we're sleeping outside.

Jon couldn't resist snapping up this 1970s two berth tent from Saturday morning's jumble sale and it seemed only right to play in it straight away.

A home away from home (and also furnished entirely with second-hand stuff) and the coolest place to sleep.

Being shoeless means I can wear the Lamani gypsy anklets I usually save for India (I've hidden my nail-less toe for the sake of decency).

I've been busier than a busy thing today, scurrying around getting my stock ready for Sunday's fair - floaty maxis, crisp cotton dresses, gents' trousers in pastel shades, linen blazers and straw hats featuring heavily.

1970s patchwork maxi (eBay, £5.19), Shirred 1970s sun top by Caribbean Fun (20p, jumble sale), Lamani coin belt (Mysore market, India)

We've got some of the vintage family popping round in a bit for a tour of the house and a chilled out evening in the garden so due to doing some emergency housework I've missed a few hours valuable sunbathing time, hopefully I can catch up tomorrow.

See you soon.

PS Thanks for the concern! The X-ray shows there's another couple of years left in my hip, the pain is from inflammation caused by doing too much. I'm on the waiting list for some steroid injections which should help me dodge the knife for a couple more years...definitely cause to celebrate!

It's not just a whirl of drinking till the small hours, sleeping in the garden and swanning around the fleshpots of the Black Country, y'know, occasionally we have to go forth and work.

Today's venue was the rather grand Victorian Masonic Lodge in the centre of Wolverhampton and, for the first time in ages, we didn't have to erect our own pitch.

Set up, unpacked and raring to go by 9am meant plenty of time to demolish Jon's cheese sandwiches and hang out with our vintage family before the doors opened to the public at 10.

Here's my talented & beautiful friend, Kerry (who blogs HERE) with her Mum.

Having the lovely Yvonne's stall opposite us kept Jon very happy.

Dawn, the boss, did a splendid job in organising.

How amazing is Anna's dress? I want it!

I couldn't resist a snaffling 1960s maxi from Jules and Jules from the stall opposite us.

Our pal Nadine and her daughter.

I met Emma today, talented and gorgeous!

Artist Yvette's stall looked like she'd broken into my house and stolen the contents.

Mick, a fellow Goa-goer and friend we made car booting years ago popped in.

As did Liz (in a Kinky Melon dress) and Adrian.

My latest creation - I made yesterday from a 1970s pattern from Liz and a vintage pair of curtains from Annie.

We're home, unpacked, the wine's open and we're waiting for a home delivery from the curry house then it's all stations go in preparation for next weekend's Indietracks where we'll be camping, trading and (hopefully) partying.

Hope you've had a fantastic weekend! I'll be over to catch up with all that's good in Blogland first thing in the morning.

Linking to Patti's Visible Monday.

I had to pop into town to stock up on some festival essentials for the weekend ahead (wet wipes, anti-bac hand gel and once-a-day sun cream to the uninitiated) and naturally took a detour round the chazzas.

The hospice shop had a huge stash of uncut patterns and being a bit short of halter neck maxis (that's my story and I'm sticking to it) I couldn't resist snapping up this 1971 dress by Style.

Just like the envelope said, it was a snip. I'd cut it out and sewn it up in a couple of hours.

Tamera sent me this amazing 1960s Hawaiian fabric last year and I'd been scared to use it for fear of buggering it up - a 3 piece pattern was ideal.

Although, true to form, Jon pointed out a trailing thread I'd neglected to snip off in my rush to blog.

I've had so many kind words about my recycled creations I thought I'd knock up another, pop it on my stall and test the water so , using a 1980s Aztec printed duvet cover salvaged from my parents' airing cupboard and some vintage braid scored at the car boot sale, I did just that ....trouble is, now it's finished, I think like it too much to part with it!

Still, there's sod all on the telly till Luther (unless you're interested in royalty & babies which I most definitely ain't) so I may as well make another.

See you soon!

I'm brilliant at distracting myself with silly side projects when there's serious work to be done. Take this week for example, I've made three dresses, gone charity shopping and visited a car boot sale when I should have been organising my Kinky Melon stock ready for trading at Indietracks festival this weekend.

This one's made from a vintage apron, a jumble sale 1960s curtain and some car booted braid.

Which meant that I was running around the house like a nutter before bed last night trying to get everything in order.

The floor at silly o'clock this morning.

Poor Gilbert's groaning at the seams and we haven't even packed any food, booze or our clothes yet.

Thank goodness we've got a trailer.

In fact, I haven't a bastard clue what clothes I'm taking and we're meeting the gang in the pub in less than a hour. Oh well, I'm sure it will all come together in the end (although last time we visited Indie-tracks we left our holdall on the bedroom floor and had to live in our travelling clothes for four days)

What do you think of my show girl waistcoat courtesy of the fabulous Skye? I love this 1970s maxi dress but the jersey bodice is backless and completely transparent (which I didn't realise until after Jon had taken a photo of me out in it last year) so it's ideal for sparing my blushes - not that I'm overly bothered about flashing my boobs but there's a time and a place for everything and Asda at 9am on a Thursday morning ain't it.

Skye's adorable son drew this picture in my honour as he loved my soldier curtain waistcoat so much. It's now pride of place on the fridge, the home of all great art work.

1970s gingham maxi (99p, Cancer UK), Madeira souvenir basket (£1.95, Acorns Hospice), Ganesh pendant (Krista-licious)

Right, better get a jog on, pack my bag and look presentable before I incur the wrath of Jon.

Have a fabulous weekend and see you very soon!

Canal boats, VW meets and now music festivals. This weekend Kinky Melons Retro Boutique hit the road and set up shop at Indie Tracks, an annual celebration of all things Indie Pop.

Indietracks is an intimate, non-corporate music festival featuring acts from across the globe. Now in the 7th year & located at the Midland Railway Centre part of the proceeds help fund the museum's conservation.

Possibly the only festival in the world where you can ride a steam train whilst being serenaded by live music.

There's even an old British Rail carriage converted into a real ale bar.

Located in the beautiful Derbyshire countryside with lots of perfectly preserved artefacts from the golden age of steam.

Indie kids are a well behaved bunch. These vintage cases wouldn't stay put for long at your average music festival.

Doesn't that sky look ominous?

Here we are, up and ready for business in the merch* tent.

(*Hipster speak for merchandise, I'm down with the kids now.)

That orange psychedelic 1960s dress was sold within 10 minutes of opening.

Although we're old hands at festival-going being crew is a totally different experience. Ten hour shifts made it pretty much impossible to see any of the music (although we had a prime spot for the live acoustic sets in the marquee) but we did manage to catch Camera Obscura after some particularly vicious lightning forced us to abandon the marquee on Saturday night.

We were on site before the gates opened every day, a festival without revellers is a pretty weird experience.

Best veg pakoras ever!

A fellow crew member - one of the drug dogs

The Chapel Stage

Indietracks is such a quirky festival - there's even an opportunity to pet owls.

A tad dishevelled after a day's work.

So, how did it go? It fecking rocked! Kinky Melon now has the seal of approval from both festival goers & band members alike and Gilbert returned a whole lot lighter. We spent time with some fantastic people and met a few blog readers, too!

It's that shirt again! Jon's shorts started life as old man trousers from a jumble sale & he altered them.

Next time you catch an Indie Pop act in the States, Malaysia, Japan, Sweden, Germany, Spain or the UK there's a good chance they'll be wearing a piece of Kinky Melon vintage.

1960s go-go top (£6.50, Second To None, Walsall), vintage patchwork maxi (£6.19, eBay) and a load of junk, vintage and Indian jewellery

We're knackered, dazed and confused right now. We've just under two weeks before Kinky Melon hits the road again (catch us HERE) so there's a furious fortnight of hunting down stock to replace the heap we've sold but that starts tomorrow. Right now it's a delivery curry, rum and coke in a proper glass, a hot bath and an early night.

See you soon!

Linking to Patti's Visible Monday and Judith's Hat Attack

Maxi may have been my trademark length for the past 20 years but when it's raining there's nothing worse than a sodden skirt flapping around your ankles. On Saturday I left the camp site in glorious sunshine resplendent in a floor grazing outfit only for the heavens to open hours later ending in an undignified dash back with a Tesco carrier bag on my head, my chappals oozing with mud and a wringing wet skirt tucked in my knickers - classy. A couple of people stopped me to say that only I could carry off a look like that and still look cool but I wasn't entirely convinced.

The last couple of days I haven't taken any chances, it's mini length and boots all the way. I made this psychedelic playsuit for Glasto but never photographed myself wearing it. The vintage fabric was a present from sexalicious Helga and the 1967 pattern came from the super-talented Pao.

After two days of chazzing for England Kinky Melon's stock levels are well and truly boosted - the washing machine's on the third load and the ironing pile is truly terrifying.

Needless to say I couldn't resist snapping up a few bits for myself. Here's what I'm keeping:

It was 5 books for £1 at Forces Support. I think my literary twin must have donated the contents of their bookshelf as I'd already read 75% of the stock.

A 1960s Janice Wainwright for Simon Massey maxi (£12), a 1970s lurex unsigned midi dress in need of some new elastic in the cuff seams (£3.45), a felt hat stuffed with an Express newspaper from 1975 (£1.50) and a gorgeous 1960s vinyl bag with a very Indian looking lurex trim (£1).

At 3 for £1 it would have been madness not to snaffle some vintage vinyl.

Although Steve Hillage isn't everyone's cup of tea.

More freaky kids for the Wall Of Misery, a snip at 50p each.

Not too much for me - I'm saving my pennies for Jon's birthday next week and an exciting day out with some dear friends at the weekend.

Me-made playsuit & vinyl bag worn with 1960s suede jerkin (£1, car boot sale), stack heeled River Island boots (£2, Salvation Army) and a stack of silver jewellery (mostly from India)

If the BBC weatherman is telling the truth it looks like the sun makes a welcome return tomorrow, car boot sale and halter neck maxis at dawn (I hope)!

See you soon.

PS Updated to link to Spy Girl's 70s Flashback - even though I'm wearing 1960s gear my heart belongs to the 70s!

Designer labels, pah! Who frickin' cares what's written inside your clothes? If someone only likes you for the labels you wear they're not worth knowing in the first place.

I know, I've said it often enough but today I'm going to have to eat my words.

Long before I got into period clothing (as vintage was known as back in the 1970s & 1980s) this David Hockney print of Mr And Mrs Clark And Percy hung on my bedroom wall. As a 12 year old I hadn't any concept of either Ossie Clark or Celia Birtwell, I just liked the cat, the fact they had the same rotary dial phone as we did and that the floor length shuttered windows reminded me of those at my Grandparents' home.

As I got older I discovered the genius of Ossie but never imagined I'd ever own anything myself. I've read of people finding Ossie Clark at car boot sales and jumble sales but that was in fashionable parts of London, not working class towns in the industrial Midlands.

That's until today when I picked up this beauty for an amazing £12 in a local chazza.

I've got to be honest with you, it's not just down to luck and great charity shopping skills.

The lady who'd owned my Ossie and Tuesday's Janice Wainwright from new had me in mind when she donated her beloved maxis, she and I know each other from chatting in charity shops and she'd asked the manager to keep them aside for me to have first refusal. Striking up a conversation with almost everyone I meet certainly has it's advantages!

Even if it hadn't got the Ossie Clark label I'd have bought it - it's one of the most gorgeous dresses I've ever had to privilege to try on.

I bought this dress from the same chazza five years ago (for a fiver) and often wondered if it's also an Ossie. The maker's name has been removed but comparing it to my latest buy the moss crepe care label is identical.

Ossie Clark for Radley moss crepe maxi worn with Mongolian lamb boa (20p, jumble sale), LAMB bangle (free with a perfume promotion years ago), candy coloured platforms (£5, local boutique), massive hair flower (£1, Scope)

If that's not enough excitement I'm catching the train and meeting some fabulous bloggers in another country (Wales!) tomorrow. I'd better go and dust off my passport!

Have a fab weekend and see you soon!

Yesterday, Kinky Melon was closed for business. Instead I set the alarm for 6am, caught the cross-country train to Cardiff and met up with three of the most fabulous babes in Blogland - Dee, Em and Tania. As Em's originally from Wales she was tour guide for the day.

Classy Cutter, retro sweets, Barry M and face mask from Dee, & vintage fabric, a 1970s coin pendant, big sparkly leopard print bangle (which I'm wearing) and lime nail polish from Em

After squealing with joy, hugging each other to death and exchanging gifts in the train station bar we set off to explore the charity shops of the Welsh capital. Em scored a vintage coffee pot while I was left taunted by a groovy 1970s tote in the window of a shop frustratingly closed for the day.

We were serenaded beautifully by a Welsh choir singing their support for Bradley Manning.

Who can resist a market?

The Cardiff indoor market was a fabulously bustling and eclectic.

We passed on the chips and headed to a fabulous little vintage stall where Tania snapped up a gorgeous maxi.

The outdoor market in St Mary Street was packed with vintage and handmade delights.

The stall with £5 & £10 bargain rail got a serious old battering.

Check out Em's new yellow Hasbeens, aren't they lush? (See, speaking Welsh like a native now)

Here's a sneak peek of my finds - I'll reveal them in full later this week!

Dee pounced on this amazing emerald green bag before the rest of us could blink.

The arcades leading off the main street are equally fabulous, packed with independent cafes and vintage emporiums. Tell Tania she was mental not to buy this dress, will you?

The very imposing Cardiff Castle.

The coolest tattoo joint ever.

Phew! After all that shopping we headed to the very grand Cardiff Wetherspoons where we cackled like witches and toasted our absent blogger friends over dirt cheap Mojitos.

Thanks to the lovely (and well behaved) pensioner who kindly offered to take a group photo. After another hour of exploring we waved goodbye at the station.

What a fab day we had, blogging meet-ups are the best. I can't wait till the next one.

Don't be shy, come and join us next time, you know you want to!

Linking to Patti's Visible Monday

I'd have loved for my twenty-year-old self to have met the woman I've become.

This was 20 year old Vix, living in bedsit-land, catering student by day and Walsall's most infamous barmaid by night.

Resplendent in a jumble sale smoking jacket and spiral perm,

I was penniless and didn't particularly like the way I looked but I was never short of boyfriends and had a social life to kill for.

In a boy's bedroom - what a floozy!

Living a hand-to-mouth existence, young Vix would have been impressed by my being mortgage & debt-free and delighted that I'd bought my Grandparents' former home. She'd have been surprised to find me living with the former primary school classmate whose band regularly featured on the telly and even more so by my managing to remain unmarried and childless (she grew up believing that it was inevitable even though it was something she'd never wanted).

Despite my manic grin my trip to Faliraki on a girls' 18-30 holiday was hell on earth. She'll have been impressed that I became a backpacker and never went on another package holiday.

She wouldn't have batted an eyelid about me being vegetarian, buying all my clothes second-hand or using cruelty-free products, that had never changed. Even her taste in music remains pretty much the same.

I'm still wearing the same shade of Barry M lip paint almost 27 years later.

She'd have been amazed to see how black hair suited her more than her natural blonde and by the older me's piercings and tattoos (her earlobes remained intact well into her twenties). She'd have been pleased to discover that the pain and annoying limp that had plagued her since childhood were not "growing pains" and could be eradicated with a total hip replacement.

She'd have been stunned by how much pink I wear (her blonde hair pretty much guaranteed attention and her clothes were almost always black) and would be thrilled by what a wild social life I still have (she often worried that getting older meant not going out and taking the world by storm).

She would be happy to see that I still share my home with cats and that I continue to liberate stuff from skips - the Royal Mail box holding my records in the photo above and the dressing table stool below.

The thing that would totally have knocked her for six though would be that older Vix makes her own clothes. As a young woman she believed sewing was the epitome of uncool and she'd have curled up in embarrassment knowing her older self got so much pleasure from dressmaking.

I made this go-go top in the garden last week using the remains of a vintage St Michael curtain, the trim from a lampshade and some bias binding and eyelets that came in a box of tat from a boot sale.

Go-Go top worn with St Michael paisley pants (part of a groovy set from darling Curtise), 1960s granny beads (20p, car boot sale, last week)

Getting older is brilliant, I liked my younger years but I love my life now.

How have you changed?

More Curtain Couture

Parcels Of Joy And Secondhand Delight

Walsall Hoedown

Glaston - Ready!

Festival Madness - Glasto 2013

Bags Packed & Ready to Roll

Carry On Camping

Booty Call - The Return Of The Mid-week Car Boot Sale

Double Trouble

Park Life

The Virgin, The Gypsy & A Mini Rant

In Tents Heat!

Let's Work

So Good I Made It Twice

Busy Doing Nothing

Kinky Goes Pop!

The Long And The Short Of It

Charity Shop Gold - My Ossie Clark Bargain

What's Occurring? A Day Trip To Wales

Looking Back - The One Where I Get Reflective