Category Archives: shopping

Jul 14 1 comments
fashion, shopping, vintage

and though you want them to last forever

You know when a dress literally has your name on it? Like, if you were shopping with friends (not that I ever do this, it’s against my laws) they would say Oh, it’s so you! Well, since my eyes have made a bit of a recovery (they’ve been rather inhuman of late) I stumped up the courage to wander up to my favourite vintage shop (you all remember Retro Rehab, don’t you?). I knew they’d have new stock in and I’ve not been in for ages and I don’t like to miss out.

New stock they did indeed have, my dress being amongst it. Love at first sight. It’s hanging on the outside of the wardrobe (where all things must hang until I’m over my crush – only then can they move into the darkness of the other side) and I’m rather chuffed that it’s mine. Perhaps you’ll be wonder what all the fuss is about, but trust me, it couldn’t be more me if it tried.

newdressretrorehab

Mar 24 0 comments
shopping

he’s the warmest chord i ever heard

Two things.

A man (I’m being so polite/politically correct) on Market Street tried to hand me some sort of holy flyer earlier today. I know that it was holy not only because of his appearance (am I allowed to say that?) but also because of what he said: “Jesus?” Literally, read: Jesus. Question. Mark. Maybe I’m being presumptuous and he’s got a friend who goes by that name; even so, I’d be offended if I was that friend for he didn’t seem quite sure on the name. It was as if he was thinking Jesus? I’m sure that was his name. Or was it Jarvis? Whatever. Maybe you can read this to find out. If I’m going to be persuaded to take a flyer off this man, I at least want to get the impression that he himself has some sort of conviction. Jesus? Meh. Jesus who? It’s a knock-knock joke waiting to happen.

Second (far more exciting) thing. I found the most perfect vintage breton today (maybe there is a Jesus!). Unfortunately, it was in Urban Outfitters, which means it was triple the price of what a new one would be, but still it was faded/soft/cream&navyheaven/long-enough-in-body-and-sleeve perfection nonetheless. When I tried it on I basically became Audrey Tatou straight away (I know there can’t be a Jesus, for this could never be true). This breton may or may not be hanging in my wardrobe right now (go figure). I may or may not have accidentally bought it instead of dinner (go figure again). I know, I’m so Carrie like that.

Obviously I could pull off the white shorts in this brilliant snap too (Jesus, I’m so deluded today!). Excuse me while I go and raid the cupboards in search of nourishment.

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Mar 10 0 comments
doodlings, shopping

here’s to ‘Cisco an’ Sonny an’ Leadbelly too, an’ to all the good people that travelled with you

I’m sitting here with a glass of red at half past 4 in the afternoon. I could feel guilty, but I don’t. That’s what holidays are for, no? My boy is cooking up a Greek storm in the kitchen. He’s ever-such-a-goodun. The most productive thing I have done today is empty the wardrobe, clean it, and put everything back into it in ever-such an orderly fashion. My wardrobe now looks like a completed maths puzzle. My best thing.

But! But now. I have realised it. The crucial thing. I have nothing to wear! I have no clothes of any substance. I looked at so many of my things and thought “if I saw this in a shop today I would not buy it, so why am I still wearing it?” I have been brutal. The bin is full. And it’s all clean and tidy and smelling of polish and there are empty hangers. It’s a very inviting place for new garments, if any should wish to find their way into it. The boy’s side is looking a little sparse too (I was brutal with his side too, but it’s fine, he won’t even notice) so what better time to go shopping? Run for your life, debit card.

So anyway, apart from the life-altering clothes crisis (let’s face it, that happens all the time, but since we are on the brink of a new season I’m allowed to attach more importance to it this time) today is a good day. We’ve been listening to Bob Dylan’s self-titled album on the turntable. That makes me happy. I’m pretty sure the spinach and feta pie and Greek salad will do a very good job at making me happy too.

Here’s the Bob cover. I really love it. It’s promises nothing and yet gives it all.

BobDylanLP

Mar 08 0 comments
fashion, shopping, vintage

my love is bigger than a Cadillac

Please do excuse my absence over the last few days, I’ve had a pretty hefty few days at work to make up for the fact that I’m now OFF FOR A WEEK. Eeeeeeep! The joys. I plan to do lots of cultured things. I also plan to keep talking about the fact that the sun is firmly out (even if seven layers are still commonplace) and I saw my first daffodils last week. Spring is springing, don’tcha know.

I’m desperate to tell you about something that happened last week, but I thought I would hold off until I had photographic evidence. But I’ve decided that I can’t wait to tell you, so I’m going to. Hopefully this will heighten your anticipation for the photos (I know, I’m deluded). So, here’s the thing. You know Retro Rehab, vintage shop extraordinaire? They had a sale last week. Not just any old sale, but a sale of clawing insanity. Basically, the idea was that you could buy a bag (just their ordinary plastic carrier bags) for a tenner and then fill it up as much you wanted (or as much as you could, as most interpretations went). They had filled the shop up to the brim with all their back-stock and devised this idea to get rid of it and make some cash.

Well, it worked. I had expected maybe a few other faithfuls when the shop opened at 11. Instead, there was a queue down the street. (Yes, I queued.) Vintage shopping makes us girls competitive, doesn’t it? Feral, even. I didn’t get to go in the shop in the first batch. Gutted. I had to watch through the window as girls greedily grabbed whatever fabric they liked and rolled it up tight and stuffed it into their bags. Some girls even had their boyfriends with them, for the purpose of holding the bags, of course.

They let the first batch of girls basically empty the shop in about half an hour. All of us stood out on the street were traumatised by the fact that there was nothing of any value left and wondered if there was any point waiting. But then! When the shop emptied they came out and announced that they were going to spend 10 minutes filling the shop back up! Yes! When they had done this, they let the next batch of eager girls in (me included). I couldn’t get close enough to the rails to look properly, so I decided upon the cunning technique of running my hand along and searching out any item that was not made of a static-shock-inducing material. I pulled out the item and if I saw any potential, kept it under my arm. I worked this process all around the shop. Then I bought a bag for a tenner and shoved them in, in order of importance.

In the end, I came out with 8 dresses. I have to say, I’m mightily impressed with my choices. I can’t show you them yet, because I need to do a major job with the fabric scissors and some bondaweb (all the dresses are much too long). If I had been truly cunning, I would’ve taken the fabric scissors with me and cut the excess material off there and then, thereby freeing up space in the bag for perhaps a couple more dresses. Alas, I am not made of such cunning. But I reckon 8 dresses for a tenner is a bit of a billy. I will take great pleasure, when anyone asks where the dresses are from (which I’m sure they will, they are that nice!), in telling them, “It was £1.25 from Retro Rehab!”

So, I need to get busy with the scissors. What better time to give my wardrobe a spring-clean too? In the meantime, here’s one of my favourite Parkinson photos. Would you believe me if I told you the girls in this picture are talking about the Retro Rehab sale?

NormanParkinson

Feb 11 0 comments
fashion, shopping, vintage

second verse, same as the first

My favourite vintage shop in Manchester is, without question, Retro Rehab on Oldham Street. If you live in Manchester and haven’t found it yet, then more fool you. If you don’t live in Manchester, it’s worth the trip just to visit this shop. If the land of Care Bears was a shop, this would be it. They carefully hand-pick, hand-wash, hand-mend (but without tackily ‘reworking’ them like so many places do these days) every item. They do all this with love, it’s easy to see.

I once bought a jumper in Retro Rehab and noticed a little pull on the back when I was at the till – woooosh! Out came the needle and thread and it was corrected in a flash! Now, that’s what I call service. It smells like sweeties in Retro Rehab. It’s painted candy green outside. It’s easy to understand why every beautiful item has been chosen. There’s plenty to choose from, but not too much so you don’t feel like you’re rummaging. I’ve never seen a dress in there for more than £26 – it’s cheap as chipshopchips. I always head straight to Retro Rehab when I want a guaranteed treat. You can pay on your card (handy!) and the girls in there are lovely. They have a wonderful sale rail all the time where I have bagged many a £1 piece that has gone on to dazzle.

I could probably say more about this wonderful shop, but suffice it to say it’s the perfect vintage shopping experience and you should all definitely go. It’s one of those shops that you try to keep secret at first; you want as few people to know about it as possible to ensure it doesn’t lose its sparkle. But, in an effort to be a better person, I’ve decided to spread the word today. Take the word and make use of it, I bid you.

So yeah, I popped in today. They’ve got bundles (the bundles aren’t bundled in any way, but arranged in perfectly neat rows according to style and colour and era (in that order)) of new stuff in for Spring. Eeeeeep! My knees literally went weak and I immediately feared for the safety of my bank card. There were lots of whites and creams and pastels and things perfect for summer weddings. I might have accidentally bought a dress which would do fabulously for said summer wedding, so if any of my friends fancy sorting one out pronto or if anyone who has already got one sorted fancies inviting me along, that’d be great, ta. It’s really beautiful, this dress, and was completely capable of transforming my mood. What a difference a dress makes, eh?

Also, can you feel it getting lighter? Can you feel it?? It’s past 5 o’clock and it’s still properly daylight. Daylight + perfect new dress = the start of something very, very good. Something tells me I’m into something good. I’ve got Herman’s Hermits on the go – can you tell? How lovely and playful and apt. I just can’t wait for the boy to come home from work so I can show him the dress and bounce up and down with glee.

retrorehab1

Feb 05 1 comments
fashion, shopping

i could tell he was a bum by the muddy boot he wore

I can’t decide if I want/need/love these brogues from Urban Outfitters or not. Instinctively, I love them. But on second thoughts, I worry that they might me look like a golfer or (worse still) a darts player. Or even a cowgirl? But I really, really, really want them. The birds-eye view is my favourite and since that’s where I’ll be seeing them from the most that must be a good thing, right? So, tell me I’m won’t look like a darts girl (remember, I’ve already got the mullet!) and I’ll get them.

Clipboard

Aaah, I just looked at them again, they’re so beautiful! I’m think I’m just going to get them, darts or no darts!

Today, I’m getting my country fix on the turntable with Country Greats Volume Two. Amazing. I think you should do the same. Also, I just forgot about my coffee, so when I took my first sip it was already on the turn to cold. Nothin’ worse than a sip of cold coffee, so I had to down it in one. Ok, bye! I’m going to get the shoes!

Dec 11 0 comments
fashion, music, shopping

bop bop soo-be-do-wah

It’s cold, it’s dry, everywhere is shrouded in winter sun…and I’ve got a crush. A velvet one. Ventured into Topshop yesterday and there was velvet everywhere. I quickly relapsed into my five-year-old-self (this happens all too often) and had to touch everything. I ooh’ed and I aah’ed (I didn’t really, but I wanted to). I have decided velvet is my only option for Christmas day, though I haven’t decided exactly in what form yet, because I couldn’t find anything that resembled closely enough the dress I had when I was a little girl – the black velvet one from Next (well posh) that had some sort of doily arrangement around the neck and cuffs (good choice, Mum).Then there was my purple velvet shirt (Marks and Spencers, probably) which incited an equal number of I-feel-like-a-million-dollars squeals. Literally haven’t worn velvet since those; I think it’s time we reacquainted ourselves.

Oh and also, while we’re at it, The Velvelettes! Love them too. They sang two of my utter 60s/girl favourites: Needle In a Haystack and He Was Really Sayin’ Somethin’. These songs must be in your life. That’s a categorical imperative, alright?

VelvelettesNeedle