Sparkle and shine

As much as I enjoyed my days away from the rat race, a small part of me is breathing a sigh of relief that the silly season is over and we can all go back to normal.

January has made the quietest of starts but, as the holidays provided plenty of opportunities for taking outfit and other photos, I'll be blogging about the last week of December for a while yet.

So, let's start with the Saturday before Christmas which was, technically speaking, the first day of my holidays. Twelve days of freedom: sheer bliss!  I'm sure you can see how happy I was!

We didn't go far to take these photos. Walking down our street and passing the late 19th Century house which is home to the local history society, we thought its green front door would make the perfect backdrop, and a change from our garage's peeling white brick wall.

Behind the house is a recently established organic garden, which sadly is only open to the public once a year. 

That didn't stop us from making use of its decorative, rusty gate, which complemented my outfit rather nicely. I am partly obscuring the word TUIN, which is Flemish for garden.

The cream, pale blue and brown plaid winter coat, which I charity shopped many years ago, still remains a firm favourite. My other outerwear consisted of a blue crushed velvet scarf and a green beret.

On my feet, my recent, serendipitous charity shop find: a pair of wedge-heeled green booties. Essentials were carried in my good old mock croc bag.

As I was determined to wear some sparkle, I picked this purple and lilac patterned dress, which is shot through with lurex thread. I know it's hardly noticeable in the pictures, so you'll just have to take my word for it. It was a sales bargain from Think Twice back in December 2017, up-cycled by me by changing its buttons. A brooch with a green stone was pinned to its lapel and I chose a green beaded necklace.

My charity shopped hot pink cardigan is edged in lurex too, and I added a sparkly blackbird brooch for good measure. Lilac tights (the package says Lavender) and one of my favourite belts, a 1980s lilac beauty, completed my outfit.

A little word of explanation about the green beret, which I picked up after a visit to my hairdresser the week before the holidays. If you are thinking I already owned a green beret, then you are right, but unfortunately I lost it. I could have hit myself, especially as it took me a while to find this exact shade of green. Needless to say, I was overjoyed to find a new one in a vintage-per-kilo shop near my hairdresser's salon. It's not exactly the same shade, but it will do. The turquoise beret came from the same shop, while the red vinyl handbag came from the Oxfam shop a couple of doors down.

But back to Saturday. Browsing our most local charity shop, I found this striped wicker basket. Even though the round bamboo handles are giving it a certain vintage appeal, it is quite new, as its (hot pink!) lining has a pocket for a phone. It's in perfect condition, and for just € 2, it is now mine.

The clothing rails, which at this particular time of year are full of party frocks and winter woollens, were a disappointment at first, until I happened upon not one but two plaid skirts.

Upon closer inspection, this one, in a black and white plaid and with a single pleat, both at the front and at the back, turned out to be made in England, and I was happy to see the Gor-Ray label.

The Gor-Ray company was established in the 1920s as a manufacturer of top-quality skirts and trousers, specializing in pleated, classically tailored skirts. Originally named C. Stillitz & Co., after its founder, its name was changed to Gor-Ray Ltd. in the early 1930s following the success of its leading product, a gored, sun-ray-pleated skirt.

Historically, pleats had been styled by folding and pressing the material, meaning that pleats inevitably lost their form and had to be periodically re-pressed in order to hold their shape.

Gor-Ray introduced new methods of permanently pleating material, whereby pleats would last as long as the garments themselves, technologies which are still relied upon in skirt manufacturing today. 

By the time we returned home and had parked our car, we were greeted by a fierce looking sky with a gathering of ominous rain clouds.

They were a prelude to Sunday's miserable weather, which I spent organizing my brooch collection. But I've already told you about this in a previous post.

Thankfully, it had stopped raining by Monday. If one looked carefully, there might even have been some patches of blue sky. But as it was Christmas Eve, we wisely avoided the crowds of last-minute shoppers by staying within Dove Cottage's confines and limiting our activities to some lazy pottering and reading. 

The dress I was wearing has always reminded me of Christmas, with its print of festive greenery and what looks like holly berries. The white flowers could even be Hellebores (Helleborus niger), commonly known as Christmas rose. 

I know I should get over these Yuletide connotations and wear it at other times too.

I added moss green tights, a red and white beaded necklace and my red beret, not that it was cold, but simply to hide the fact that my hair needed washing.  

Adding to the festive feel, I wore a frilly red knitted scarf, with its pink, green and blue stripes, as a stole.

Watching the sun go down from our sitting room's window, I quickly snapped this photo of the bands of pinkish clouds floating through the pale blue winter sky.

And then Christmas Day arrived and the sun was out in full force.

Aw, look at lazy Phoebe soaking up the sun's rays!  If the fabric covering the footstool looks familiar, it is the 1950s tablecloth I brought home from my parents' house the other day.

Sadly, it turned out to be too narrow for our dining table, so I had the brainwave to use it as a plaid.

When I was looking through an album of old photographs a couple of days later, I came across this one with the tablecloth in a starring role. The birthday girl cutting the cake is me, aged 5. Next to me is my paternal grandfather, who was also my godfather. 

But I'm digressing! Although we usually lounge around in our pyjamas all day on Christmas Day, the sun streaming in through our windows made us reconsider, so that after lunch we got dressed and went for a walk.

Dressed in a sparkly shift dress, with a crazy yellow, orange and acid green print on sky blue, I must have made quite a contrast to the other, fleece clad, dull-coloured walkers.

The only concession I'd made to this walking lark was a pair of worn-down old boots.

You've already seen the photos of our walk, but I wanted to take you through what I was wearing.

The dress was a lucky find in a vintage-per-kilo shop in Antwerp, its pristine label confirming that it must have been deadstock. It's from the Swedish Aspens brand, and the fabric contents shown as Asplene, which I presume is a relative of Crimplene, and Sildorex, its name suggesting that it might be responsible for the gold specks in the material.  

Although it is ever so slightly too big, there was no way I was going to leave so much fabulousness behind. Accessorized with a stretchy blue belt, a fluffy fake fur vest with a starburst brooch pinned to it and a statement necklace found at a flea market, I felt on top of the world that day.

I will be back with more holiday outfits in my next post.

Linking my sparkly purple, lilac and pink outfit to Nancy's Fancy Friday!

The hunter of dreams

Time hurries swiftly on,

Each fleeting year seems shorter than the last,
And many hopes which cheered its opening dawn,
Are buried with the past.
~Mary Ann H. Dodd Shutts, Passing Time

Once upon a time, I thought I had time. So much time that I never gave it much thought. So much time that I just used it as if there were an endless supply. So much time that I let it carelessly slip through my fingers.

I was young and didn't know better than that there would always be time and that everything would remain the way it was. How was I to know that I would grow up and grow older, and that time is like shifting sand. That the passing of time would wreak havoc on the world as I knew it. That houses would be built on what was once my playground.

And even if I should know better by now, I am still getting away from the present moment. There, it has gone. And another one. And another.

The past is wrapped in cotton wool. Put at the back of a bottom drawer and forgotten. Until one day you happen upon it, slightly warped and yellowed with age.

All it takes is a snippet of a half-forgotten song, a whiff of my mother's perfume, a photograph stuck between the pages of a book.

The time machine, its rusty cogs creaky with age, is put into motion and suddenly I'm back in 1974, with the radio playing in the background and me singing along in broken English.

Or 1969, standing on tiptoe in  front of the bathroom mirror, trying out my Mum's chalky lipstick and dabbing my wrists with her perfume. The one in the fancy bottle that she bought from the Avon Lady the other week.

Oh, and that photograph, it takes me right back to my grandparents' garden. It's the early 1960s, and I'm dressed in a pink corduroy frock, my curls all tangled from doing clumsy forward rolls on the lawn.

On Christmas Day, we walked back into Jos's past. Where his childhood house once stood, there's now a windswept tangle of shrubs and trees. Our booted feet keep slipping and sliding on the sticky clay which once provided the area's livelihood.

The passing of time has wreaked havoc here too, forgivingly blanketed in wilderness.

Now another year has passed. The  hands of the clock have ticked away the minutes, then the hours, until they turned into days. Days which have been strung together into strands of weeks, then woven into a pattern of months.

Twelve months. 52 weeks. 365 days. One year. And another one. And another.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day

~William Shakespeare, from Macbeth

Still, I have always been and always will be a dreamer, a hunter of dreams, so I am raising my glass to you, my fellow dreamers, and to past, present and future dreams.

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”

~Eleanor Roosevelt

Linking to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style one more time this year!

Baubles and brooches

It's pretty scary how time is racing by! One minute I'm in my parents' attic, staring in disbelief at my Mum's green coat, and before you know it we're more than one week later, with this year's Christmas a thing of the past. How did that happen?

I've been meaning to tell you about the flea market we went to on the Sunday before last, but I've been procrastinating again. No, that's not strictly true. As I've finally got some time off, I have been enjoying these rare leisurely days, living life at a slower and more spontaneous pace than the manic hamster wheel madness that so determines my working life.

But let's get back to that flea market, which was our last one this year. As I'd already hinted in my last post, I just had to wear my Mum's green coat. 

There, you see, a perfect fit! 

I wonder, was its colour dictated by fashion? Was it my Mum's first choice or did the seamstress lead her gently into its direction? I'll never know. Come to think of it, I don't even remember which was my Mum's favourite colour, but I'm pretty certain that it wasn't green. 

For its first wear by me, I chose mustard and purple as its companions. They seemed to get along rather well. How peculiar that my handbag is in the exact same shade of green. 

And look at those buttons!

I also love its furry collar, which can even be put up and fastened with a hook and eye closure, making it perfect for those colder, windswept days.

Here's a look at the pristine green lining, edged with decorative, braided binding.

Underneath the coat, I was wearing a 1980s shift dress with a mad green, pink, purple and turquoise print, accessorized with a green beaded necklace. The brooch I pinned to my sage green cardigan looks like a little wreath of pearls. A Christmas wreath, perhaps? I do wear it at any time of year, though.

There was quite a turnout of stalls at the flea market, but strangely enough it wasn't very busy. We were told there had been more visitors on Saturday but, with most of the city centre shops being open in the run-up to Christmas this particular Sunday, I guess that would have been where most people preferred to spend their hard-earned money hunting for presents.

Such a shame, as there was certainly something to cater for all tastes and budgets here ...

We were both feeling a bit tired and were quite overwhelmed by all the choice! Consequently, I only bought one brooch. Not a vintage one this time, but I simply couldn't resist this gorgeous large cat brooch.

There was a lady selling boxes full of vintage buttons at very economical prices, which I spend some time poring over. These are the ones I've added to my collection.

Jos pounced on this 1950s robot game, which he'd coveted, but never got, as a child. The game includes a small robot figure holding a pointer. It is placed in the centre of a circular pattern of questions. The robot is rotated to a particular question and then lifted from the question area and placed in the centre of the answer area where it automatically rotates to the correct answer.

We'd only reached the end of the first aisle when we made our biggest purchase: a small, antique chest of wooden, glass-fronted drawers, the kind which was used to display sewing threads in haberdashery shops. This particular one is from a Belgian company called Filature & Filteries Reunies, which were based in the town of Aalst, or Alost in French. They were in business from 1886 until about 1970.

I'd been looking for something similar, but the only ones I'd come across so far were eye-wateringly expensive. As its top is cracked, this one was affordable, and what's more, the seller even gave us a reduction.

What was I going to use it for? I think those of you who have been reading my blog for a while will be able to make an educated guess!

There was still another week of work to get through before my 12-day Christmas holiday and as usual it was hectic as hell. Plus, my commute home got worse every day as hordes of tired shoppers needed to take the tram at the same time as I did.

There was a highlight when one day a luxury bar of soap arrived all the way from Tina in Germany. 

I'd actually won it, and I can tell you it smells absolutely heavenly, a fact which was confirmed by Phoebe, who went a bit crazy with the tissue paper it was wrapped in!

And then, finally, the weekend and ensuing holiday arrived. 

Christmas is a quiet affair here at Dove Cottage, but we do like putting up some decorations. Our faithful old fake Christmas tree comes out of the basement, to be decked with our retro and vintage ornaments, some of which are family heirlooms. The blue 1950s style cloth wrapped around the tree's base is a family heirloom too. It's one of the tablecloths I recently brought home from my parents' house!

Uncharacteristically, Phoebe managed to break one bauble, but fortunately it wasn't a vintage one!

We never used to have a nativity scene, until a few years ago, when Jos came across the very same manger they used to have when he was a boy. We've improved it with a battery operated string of LED lights. 

It rained all day that Sunday and it was dark and dreary outside. We even had to resort to taking outfit photos indoors, but I couldn't very well not show you my outfit. I was wearing a wide teal new-to-me skirt (with pockets!) combined with a black vintage blouse with a teal, beige and brown flower print, which I think came from Think Twice. Both the gold belt and light blue beads were charity shopped.

These dark days actually do suit Dove Cottage, its rooms dotted with a collection of small vintage lamps providing cozy pools of light.

But I didn't have time to sit around all day. In fact, I had a date with a certain chest of drawers!

As I'm sure you might of have guessed, I am using them to store brooches, replacing two charity shopped sets of plastic drawers I'd been using as a temporary measure. 

Needless to say, I had fun sorting through all my treasures, reorganizing them at the same time.

Below are the contents of four of the cabinet's five drawers.

Apart from this set of drawers, I'm also using some shallow polished wooden drawer boxes, a gift from one of Jos's friends. I took the opportunity to reorganize these as well.

These are just four of the six drawers. I had no idea I had so many different butterfly brooches!

Finally, there's this hinged black lacquered box with ten deep compartments. They were a gift from the same friend, but I hadn't used it until now. They are holding some of my most delicate and precious brooches, which are only worn very occasionally.

The last thing I did was try to count the number of brooches I've currently got, but unfortunately my mind went numb and I lost count at some point. However, I can safely say there are more than four hundred ...

* I'll break another bauble if you don't put me down this instant!

I'm leaving you now with a photo taken in our garden on Christmas Eve. I grabbed Phoebe who was about to dash past me. Not sure she enjoyed it very much. As a matter of fact, I know exactly what she is thinking.*

I hope you all had an enjoyable Christmas, whatever you've been up to!

* Sorry, Sheila, I just had to do this!

The city sun sets over me

When eventually it stopped raining, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. As we were in the run-up to Winter, this could of course only mean one thing: we were in for a - minor - cold snap. But that's OK, I can live with that as long as blue skies and a bit of sunshine are part of the bargain.

The downside was that all this happened during the week before last, when I was cooped up in the office. Oh well, at least I got to enjoy some spectacular sunsets from my perch on the 5th floor.

I took these photos with my phone and they were not enhanced in any way. The sky really was this amazing fiery mix of tangerines and pinks, with a pinch of darkest indigo thrown in.

The city does look rather lovely, doesn't she? Well, she does, as long as you keep your eyes focused on the skyscape and don't let them wander down to street level, where hordes of frenzied shoppers are hunting for presents beneath the merrily twinkling Christmas lights.

Not for me, no thank you! Working in the city centre at this time of year really is the Nightmare before Christmas!

There, rant over! 

One day, when the weather was really exceptional, I even braved the crowds and walked.

I was almost swept up in a tide of shoppers when I took these photographs of Electra. Standing on top of a building which houses a well-known department store, she seemed to be casting a spell on us, mere mortals. She was being wooed by Anthony Van Dyck, who was making eyes at her from his plinth below. Clearly not impressed, she promptly turned him to stone!

Grey clouds reigned again on Friday. As public transport was seriously disrupted by a general strike, I was obliged to take the day off. Not that I minded very much!

It must have been no later than 2.30 pm and daylight was fading already. However, we made the most of what was remaining by going for a long overdue walk in the park.

Wearing my fake fur coat, which I'd unearthed from its out of season hiding place that morning, I was well prepared for the cold.

Beneath my coat, I wore a crazily patterned, reddish brown handmade vintage dress, its tie secured by a tapestry brooch.The brooch was found at a flea market many months ago. As its fastening was broken, it had been patiently waiting its turn with the other waifs and strays in brooch hospital, for Dr. Jos to mend it.

The sleeveless Welsh wool jacket I've added on top was a present from my lovely friend Vix.

I didn't want my legs to be turned into icy pillars, so I wore a pair of nude tights underneath my burnt orange opaques. My green booties from Middelburg were cozy and comfortable.

I'd quickly grabbed this scarf in my haste to leave the house, but it wasn't nearly warm enough. Same goes for the green knitted hat with its chunky pompom. It does look deceptively warm, but it's a rather loose knit, plus it kept escaping from my ears, leaving them exposed to the icy elements.

The mustard leather gloves did do the trick, even though I had to keep removing them in order to make photographs. Should have worn my fingerless gloves!

In the fading light, the trees are blackish-green silhouettes.

I wonder, are they sleeping, their roots buried deeply in the cold, cold ground? And if they do, are they dreaming of Spring? 

Some of the ponds were covered with a flimsy layer of opalescent frost, while others were flat as squeaky clean mirrors, silently reflecting a motley crew of skeleton trees.

In Flanders parks the poppies blow ...

The bare branches of this lonely little tree were hung with bright red laminated poppies, clearly the result of a primary school project, their messages proclaiming that "war has to stop and peace must come". 

Saturday was another dry, yet bitterly cold day. I briefly braved the cold to show you what I was wearing that morning. This is yet another one of my dresses with a self-tie but, although I like the colour and print, I'm on the fence about it, as I just can't seem to style it right.

It's mainly the unwieldy tie which is the culprit! In a bid to make it behave, I added a floral scarf clip. I also wore moss green opaques, a lilac cardigan and a purple beret.

I only wore the dress in the morning, changing into jeans and a polo neck after lunch. Yes, you've read that right and no, I don't have pictures! 

The reason I was wearing such an uncharacteristic outfit is that for the last month or so, we have been dedicating part of our weekends to clearing my parental home.

We'd made a start two years ago, just after my Dad passed away, but stopped when my brother temporarily moved into the house. This temporary situation turned into two years, but now that he's moved out, we can finally finish what we started.

Oh, the stuff my parents kept!  They hardly threw anything away. Consequently, we filled bin bag after bin bag of rubbish, while many carloads of stuff have gone to the charity shops and the recycling centre.

It was unavoidable that some things ended up at Dove Cottage too, ranging from practical items to those of sentimental value.

My Dad's nearly new food processor and retro style portable radio both found a home in Dove Cottage's kitchen. 

Bags of household linen, some of it yellowed with age, were given the charity, but I just couldn't bear to part with the tablecloths on the top right and bottom left. 

The framed document above, dating from 1930, was presented to my paternal granddad after he finished his military service. I'm sure we will find a bit of wall to hang it up!

Sorting out my Mum's sewing box and the vintage tin, both full of sewing materials, provided hours of fun on a rainy afternoon. 

I suspect that the 1950s fruit bowl and Space Age thermometer were both given to my parents as wedding presents. As long as I can remember, they lived side by side on top of our living room sideboard.

Both were covered with a layer of dust by now, but were given a good clean and a new lease of life at Dove Cottage, where they are getting the love these heirlooms deserve.

Last but not least! While clearing out the attic, we stumbled upon a rickety wardrobe, its contents a big question mark as its key had been lost.

When Jos finally managed to open it, there it was, my Mum's coat!

Not only had I forgotten all about it, I never even suspected that it was still around. Clearly it was waiting for me. I mean, look at that colour! And what's more, it's a perfect fit!

My Mum must have had it custom made back in the 1960s and now that I set eyes on it again, I actually remember her wearing it. 

I did choke up a bit when I first tried it on, and there might have been a few tiny tears ...

I simply had to wear it to the flea market on Sunday. But that'll be for a next post!

Meanwhile, I'm joining the other girls at Nancy's Fancy Friday. I'm also joining Patti and the gang as usual at Patti's Visible Monday!