New years for me has never been about having a wild night out. This year I spent it with my good friend’s family, drinking wine, eating baba ganoush and dancing to absolute 80’s on the radio. We both wore our mum’s vintage dresses, paired with slippers and a nice glass of wine.
My dream as a four (and twenty four) year old was to be a ballerina. Gracefulness, however, has never come naturally to me and ever since my one disappointing lesson as a child I have preferred to watch.
I found this beautiful book of Russian prima ballerina Violetta Elvin.
A girl can dream…
“Miss Elvin….a quiet beauty with the soft romantic quality that eludes so many dancers…bringing a magic which moves even the most hardened ballet-goers.”
Seventy-five pounds got you an awful lot in the 60’s, for my mum it was a cruise around Europe. According to her, if you ignored the sea-sickness; smelly, windowless dorm rooms and giant cockroaches; it was actually an enjoyable experience.
Here is the scrapbook made of the two week trip cruising from Venice to Gibraltar…
My thirteen year old mum wrote of how “it is not much fun shopping in Syracuse for the boys pester you.”
The “huipil”. The most beautiful embroidered tunic worn by the ladies of Central America since before the 15th century. The creation of one is passed down from mother to daughter and designs identify which community the wearer is from. The patterns include flowers, animals, birds, and Mayan mythology.
Whilst wandering around the town of Antigua Guatemala, we stumbled across a sale of old, second hand huipils. Layers and layers of hand embroidered history. Heaven….
Each one is individual and personal to the owner. When I bought my lovely huipil, I was fortunate enough to meet the lady’s elderly mother and teacher of this beautiful craft. She told me that her young granddaughters were learning too.
My mother has the biggest collection of books. Luckily for me, she has kept all of her books from when she was little and I was able to enjoy them too. These sweet drawings are by Anne Bullen, a very popular illustrator at the time, and a favourite of my mother’s.
They are from the true story of ‘Gladeye’ the war horse, published in 1939.
I spend so many hours looking through old family photos, and every time I find myself feeling jealous of my Grandmother’s beautiful clothes. To me, she was the most elegant woman in the world. The Marilyn Monroe of Warwickshire.
Today my Mum told me of how my Grandmother had made a very bad first impression on her future Mother-in-Law; she was wearing red lipstick and red nail varnish! Outrageous….
This little blog is a way for me to share with you not only all the lovely things, places and people that I stumble across throughout my life, but also the stories that come with them.
My passion for things that have a ‘past life’ has always been with me, since before the time at 10 years old, when I convinced my parents to decorate my bedroom ‘Victorian’. The walls were painted the perfect shade of sage green (!), I swapped all my toys with my Mum’s old dolls from the attic, and whilst on a trip to New York we searched all over for the perfect nightdress to compliment my new, or I should say, old little lifestyle.
To me, knowing that a vintage piece of jewellery has been loved before I knew that it existed, or an old tatty teddy has been cherished for years before I had found it, makes it so much more exciting.
Every object has a history and every person has a story, and I want to know them….