Of all the things I own too many of, coats are number one. They just sort of accidentally accumulate over the years until you have to invest in an industrial coat rack or two. And start storing them in the bathroom. And get told “For every new coat you buy, you have to get rid of an old one.”
I did recently get rid of an old coat and it was unpleasant experience all round, so unlikely to happen again soon. I actually did a real life shiver this morning which meant one lucky autumn coat got to accompany me to work. Autumn coats are my favourite. I’ve accidentally added five to my collection in the last 6 months or so but it’s absolutely fine because they cost LESS THAN £20. FOR ALL FIVE.
The above was £4 and brand new. Welcome to the charity shops of Fulham. It’s not my favourite coat ever but I absolutely love fur collars and for £4 with a tag on, it would have been criminal not to.
I appreciate that this is a)mental and b)VERY red but worse things have happened. It’s seen me happily through two festivals where anything goes and I have come to love it very much. I have no idea how much it cost because it came from The Vintage Vintage Sale, which happens every few months in East London but probably about £3. My dad did ask me if I had recently fallen into the 80s when he saw this.
Also The Vintage Kilo Sale. Very ‘boyfriend’ jacket, very light, very cheap. (about a fiver)
The above is maybe my favourite possession. Velvet. Floral. Bit weird. It’s also my best bargain ever and will probably never ever be topped. IT COST £1. A very eccentric old man at a carboot sale was selling it along with a seriously impressive collection of vintage cutlery. Cutlery and velvet bomber jackets. What a babe.
The coat in the picture above is my favourite ever Ebay purchase. It looks weird on a hanger for some reason so no hanger photo. I went through a ‘must own camel boyfriend coat’ frenzy and got this for £6. We then went on a lovely romantic break to Paris together as demonstrated above. We’re still together. It’s going really well.
Seeing as all these were so wonderfully cheap I think it’s okay to justify potentially spending £80 on a brand new coat from an actual proper shop. I haven’t done it yet but it’s probably highly likely I will soon be blinding commuters on the district line and looking like citrus fruit in this bad boy:
Seeing as today is one of those days where summer is clinging on for one last hurrah, it seemed only fitting to think about skirts. I recently realised, while sitting at my desk at work wearing a skirt with happy zebras on, that I should maybe consider buying some new, almost sensible ones. Naturally I have been on Ebay and watched three: pineapple patterned, mini yellow and one that looks like a weather forecast. Professionalism may have to wait a teeny while longer.
I did of course visit my favourite charity shop neighbours on my way out this morning. I saw one perky staff member ballroom dancing with air in the tiny little back garden yesterday while another tried on hats, so it’s obviously been a good weekend. There was a rack crammed full of amazing looking skirts and I did almost part with £3 for one red skater skirt with foxes on, but I’m not a size 6. I will never be a size 6. I can’t even breathe in and pretend it doesn’t hurt to be a 6. I will however send my tiny housemate in tomorrow, because those foxes are crying out for our love.
Despite skirt disappointment today, I do own two beautiful midi skirts that I have real life feelings for and I feel need appreciation. They only collectively cost £4.50 but I would have paid way more for either.
I have just decided, while pausing to eat dinner, that I am 100% putting up a fight for the pineapple skirt on Ebay. Skirts need company, it’s only fair. I also decided, after taking the two beauties above out of my wardrobe and then struggling to put them back, that I am going to list some stuff on Ebay myself. After all winter is coming and I will need to buy at least ten jumpers from next door in the coming month, for survival of course.
I live next door to a charity shop. The staff are absolutely insane and borderline scary, there is always a trumpet for sale and every so often they stock up on brightly chairs carved into zoo animal shapes. My favourite item for sale currently is a small wicker farm, complete with wicker farmer.
About a year ago I started frequenting the inside of this little shop with my little housemate. Since then one of my wardrobes has quite literally started to buckle, two drawers have broken and my boyfriend is unimpressed. It turns out owning clothes that someone might have died in (I mean, fairly unlikely I hope) and that come with a free layer of dust is addictive. It’s very addictive.
It also doesn’t help that we pretty much share a building and our flat recently did a little leaking into the shop storeroom. “Can you just come in and have a look and then tell your landlord?” Quick look at leak, quick purchase of three more XXL floral shirts probably once owned by 70s secretaries. We also regularly have to go in to retrieve post (once an ASOS parcel with a bite out of the box), or to like check if there is any post, and buy a bag with parrots on.
I was meant to be culling my mass collection of giant mens clothing, but then I got it all out and realised I’M KEEPING IT ALL. Then remembered this empty wordpress account. Then this happened:
(This is just the tip of the iceberg. My skirt collection is probably bigger than the army of some small European countries.)
This is amazing because a)look at it b)it has a cake recipe in the label and c) i realised when I got it home it’s from Topshop and cost me £1.50
This is from a mental flea market in Paris, not my mental neighbours. Took it Thailand and it was basically high fashion.
One of my housemates recently woke up on a Saturday from a lucid dream about some bejewelled slippers displayed in the window that had been keeping us entertained. We do actually have lives, we’re just in way over our heads with this charity universe.