The Olympiad: Soggy Chaps & Flat Caps

I don't like rain. My hair doesn't like it, my feet don't like it and my make-up most certainly doesn't like it.

But I like dressing up and drinking gin in fields (either as seperate activities, or both together). So last Saturday - in a temporary break from my normal levels of sanity - His Lordship and I braved the continuous, heavy and chilly deluge for some sporting fun. And I wore sunglasses. Just to be stubborn, like.

The clouds broke as we waited for the train...

It was his birthday and everything.
Cheer up, M'Lud!

I kept suggesting they might provide gazebos or table umbrellas, but we both knew it was not to be. We just had to suck it up and take the rain like good 'uns. The Chap Olympiad itself, a sporting event including such classically inspired events as ironing board surfing and the pipeathalon, was held as ever in Bedford Square. Which is a lovely place when not slowly filling with water.

We met up with fellow brave hearts Landgirl1980, Retrochick and Penny Dreadful, we decided on a cunning plan. Hide under the trees on a bench. The rain would never think to look there. It was that kind of Blackadderesque cunning plan that later turns out to have some small, but essential flaws in it. Such as what happens when the wind gently ruffles the thousands of tiny sodden leaves above us... However we were too busy to notice at that point as my headscarf had just blown into the small inland waterway which was encroaching on our pick-nick spot. I am clumsy: rain was just hitting me when I was down.

Super umbrella action there!

His Lordship attempted tea, but we soon decided that (for purely medicinal purposes) a sturdier beverage was required.

No need for soda, I have a ready source of fresh water.



Retrochick came prepared. Very sensible indeed.



Margaret of Penny Dreadful has the right idea.

Furthermore, I realised that a 60s princess style headscarf simply wasn't up to the job (my hair had uncurled itself and become frizzy in a manner unique to my own follicles). So I popped over to the Laird London stand and purchased a Harris Tweed cap. Which was not frugal. Not by a country mile. But one of which I have always craved, especially as I am now Northern-by-marriage...

Ee by gum where's t'whippet etc'.

And then, at the appointed hour (2pm or so, for sages and ancient wisdom had told of it 'clearing up a bit in the afternoon), the clouds parted- about an inch- and the rain stopped. Huzzah! Time to watch silly games, eat cake and admire pretty frockage.


Penny Dreadful & Landgirl1980

"Pipe talk"

Naomi and Lisa of the Vintage Mafia

Vintage Film Crew. There was also a modern one, from France.
They interviewed us and I stood there saying nothing like a plum la prune stupide.

Amazing hat! I offered to credit her by name but she
said 'oh, I don't even know what a blog is...snap away...'

This group come every year and are utterly chaptastic.
I did not notice the suspect, fake-tache wearing photobomber at the time...

I also had the pleasure of meeting many other bloggers and fellow tweeters (ReeRee of Rockalily Lipstick and Shona of Heyday Clothing to name a couple) and it was great to put faces to names! Eventually, after our wild and watery adventures, we decamped to a nearby ale house to warm ourselves after our chilly (but fun) day. A wonderful day out for any fan of vintage, chappish behaviour and frolics... just bring a brolly or (as the super-organised chaps near our bench did) a small gazebo from the local garden centre. Genius. Mind you, you can pretty much guarantee that if I lug such a contraption down to central London, the sun will blaze all day...