Back from the Big Smoke

Without much ado, I abandoned Carol to the vagaries of February in France and headed north towards more snow - just under a week in London and it feels like I have been away for months; in fact, almost as if I have returned from an alternative universe. The reason for the visit was a last minute wedding invitation (too complicated to explain) which happily coincided with the Hammersmith Vintage Clothing Fair. I have been meaning to pop over for this event - which normally takes place on the last Sunday of most months - for a long time now and, boy, do I wish I had made the effort earlier.

It is truly amazing and a must for all those interested in textiles. Not cheap by anyone's standards, but so full of wonderful clothes (mostly from the fifties and early sixties but from earlier as well) and fabrics that it is enough to make any reasonable girl cash in her pension and spend it all on one or two waist-cinching floral frocks that even Jane Mansfield might have considered OTT past the age of eighteen. Still, what do I care, living in the country surrounded by corn fields and cows.
And, of course, it isn't just the clothes that are irresistible (though you have to look a little harder and dig a little deeper); there are also oodles of hats and gloves and handbags and shoes and knitwear and much, much more to tempt the unsuspecting frau. Fortunately I arrived without my cheque book (no-one takes credit cards) and not too much in the way of cash, so I had to use a certain amount of discretion choosing between the myriad options to buy...

...and I did make two or three rounds before deciding on which purchases to make. It was during the third lap that I came across my "prize": an absolutely gorgeous 1930s hand-quilted cotton bed cover, which one of you lucky visitors might just find sitting on your bed when you arrive.