Squueee and other noises of excitement! Lots of favourite things. Naturally I rushed to my wardrobe to find the most disgracefully low-cut dress I could possibly find. I spent all night having to mouth (in the style of Les Dawson's old lady character mouthing a rude word) Ma-ta-lan when people asked what boutique it came from. Typical high street quality, they'd scrimped a bit on the fabric on the top ha ha! Still, good enough for the Vintage Mafia, good enough for me. Vain though I am I omitted to take a self-portrait but I am sure the inappropriate cleavage levels are recorded somewhere out in the blogosphere!
Anyway onto the important part: PIMMS.
|Landgirl1980 dishing out The Pimms...|
The creation of the Pimms was a wonder to behold, with plenty of careful tasting and the addition of more Pimms, bit more Pimms, 'do you think it's weak?' - 'yeah add some more Pimms' etc', at various stages. Omm nommmnom. Charly of Landgirl1980 is a mulittaskin' heroine, she was also doing 40s hairstyling! Blimy. The closest I came to multitasking was eating her yummy carrot scones and drinking the Pimms at the same time.
The Pimms cups were all named, using historical terms for women. Mostly, let's face it, names for ladies-of-the-night. If only I had picked ladies-of-the-night, though... I got a couple of humdingers:
|'Old bag'. Even better! :/|
|Fellow bloggers with their comedy cups! :)|
It was great to put faces to the blogs I follow, including Vintage-A-Peel, Lady Cherry Loves, Make Do Style, and MyStyle. We all had a good rummage in the fantastic boutique of vintage loveliness, one particular Jean Varon maxi caught our eyes, amazingly it fitted me...! Yay, it has found a good home at chateaux Perdita, along with a corduroy paisley baker-boy cap. Rather less glam-60s fabulous but actually the only thing holding my hung over head together right now so a worthy investment.
|Oh, the hats, the bags!! COME TO MAMA!|
|Small room, big on sequins. A. Maze. Ing.|
Oh, and more Pimms. And then some more Pimms after that... erm, and then we went to the pub. We discussed literature (well, a 70s teenage girl magazine annual) socio-economics (what's that tramp doing to the lads...?) and natural history (Oh look, a three legged dog!). Then my sang along to Dolly Parton using candles as microphones. Hence, here I am now in my oversized man's flannet shirt, corduroy baker-boy hat on (sore) head feeling less fresh than a daisy. I blame His Lordship, personally, he views Supersize The 70s as a genuine lifestyle guide:
|The night is young. |
Sadly we are too old to be carrying on like this.
|A damning visual metaphor.|
I narrowly missed a 'Casualty opening sequence'
running downstairs in a maxi and heels.
If you are deeply envious of my Saturday night, and let's face it it was the cool party where the cool kids were, you can recreate some of the magic by mixing yourself a stiff drink, putting some classic cheesy music on the ipod and browsing Penny Dreadful on Etsy. Too many pretty things to buy... fashion drool...