Autumn Ready

We're into the second week in October; a time traditionally associated with misty mornings and chilly nights.  So what happened?  We're in the middle of what used to be known as an Indian Summer - something of a rarity - but is now quite obviously the frightening reality that is climate change.

In spite of the unseasonably mild weather, the trees and woodland floor seem to be on message.  Leaves are turning and fungi are popping up everywhere (just as they should) suggesting that, at least for now, they will infuse the soil with nutrients for the trees, their beneficiaries.  This puff ball fungus, on reaching maturity and upon impact, dramatically releases a cloud of dust like spores into the surrounding area.  Isn't it magical?

The grey squirrels are also preparing; collecting and squirrelling away acorns and nuts to store in their hastily dug (and often forgotten) larders.

We're all suspended in this strange between-seasons no man's land.

For once though, I'm prepared for Autumn.  I've already moved a number of items that I didn't feel I would wear enough during the colder months to justify their space on my clothes rail.  I've carefully shopped - slow fashion - acquiring a few more winter staples (inexplicably being low on versatile knits for example).  I've added to the reserve of books piling up on my bed side table and was calmly preparing to welcome the dark nights with open arms; relishing fruit crumbles, long walks and back to back rainy weekend film marathons and we find ourselves basking in 20 degree sunshine.  

So what's new?  Well very little here is new.  Most of these garments have doubtless had more than one owner in its life, but now it's my turn.  So in reverse order.  Feel free to hum the Top of the Pops chart rundown music as you read.

10.  Navy blue polo neck jumper by former High Street store BHS.  One can never have too many of these beauties.  I wear them, alone or layered, when the temperature plummets.  Here, in this grainy, evening phone pic, I'm wearing it with an old vintage Indian cotton maxi skirt to keep out the chill.

At 9, a 1990s Adidas top.  This was a high risk purchase for me (£2.95).  I'm not usually drawn to sportswear, but this fleecy gillet spoke to me and is very warm and cosy.  Great for woodland walks, with a knitted hat and gloves.

8.  Himalayan Hemp Nepalese Rucksack - Perfect for carrying extra lenses around on our walks.

7.  Winter whites.  It might sound counter intuitive and I have little research to back this up, but I feel that white warms up my sun starved skin in winter.  I've scored a River Island top in thick cotton with puffed sleeves (see 4 below) and a versatile M&S knit.

Just in at 6, this Zara jumper.  I do find myself increasingly seeking out colour as I age.  This pastel pale lemon will remind me that spring is around the corner when I'm shivering in January.

Dropping to number 5, an Indian cotton dress.  This one's a bit of an anomaly in an Autumn wardrobe, but it could still work for now, layered over that navy blue polo neck, leggings and knee high boots.  

A new entry at number 4!   I kept picking this next item up and hanging it back on the charity shop rail.  I initially assumed it was a skirt, but actually it's a pair of ginormous wide leg trousers.  They're synthetic and a bit "fashion" but give a great silhouette and are lined.  The label (Ghost Harlem - Japanese?) was new to me and ultimately the quirky avant-garde print and vibrant colours won me over.   Sometimes love just can't be explained, but that's what this is!

I'm wearing them here with the aforementioned "winter white" River Island top, but stripes work too, as would a slouchy, chunky knit.

3.  Black and white striped polo neck.  I like the way the Breton stripes echo the Adidas signature stripes of my sporty gillet.  It will also work beautifully layered under a sleeveless tank top and teamed with my next find......climbing towards the top spot...

2.  Pleated midi skirt, made in the UK by now defunct heritage label, Windsmoor.

I've yet to wear this vibrant, winter bright skirt, picked up for around a fiver.  I spotted it on the charity shop rails during the heatwave, but just adored the colours and knew I already had a few items that would work with it.  I think I might pack it for our city break next week.

And straight in at number 1.  My one new purchase - a Kharibu vintage kantha waistcoat.  I spotted these earlier in the year and although I knew I had to have one, I bided my time until the £70.00 price tag became £40.00.  It's definitely going to be a wardrobe staple for me.  Here is is teamed with baggy jeans and a Breton t-shirt.  

So if all of this talk of Autumn hasn't given you that Ready brek inner glow, this little anecdote just might.  

Twitter is sadly these days associated with a narcissistic billionaire and toxicity.  But last week, after taking to the platform to try (in vain) to get some resolution from Virgin Media regarding our locked email account, I asked if anyone else was having similar issues and sharing my frustration in not being able to speak to an actual human being.  Within a couple of minutes, I received an affirmative comment from one London based Sarah Ziegel.  

While we vented at our mutual frustration online, Gareth finally managed to unlock our email account (with zero assistance from Virgin Media).  We decided that we should message Sarah and offer to talk her through the steps Gareth had taken in the hope that they would work for her.  

So Sarah and I followed each other on Twitter and Sarah messaged me her phone number.  Gareth promptly made the call and hey presto!  Twenty minutes later, Sarah was reunited with her inbox.  

Sarah was so grateful that she insisted Gareth supply her with our address.  An author, blogger and mother to four autistic children, Sarah has written an award winning book, Marching to a Different Beat (winner of The Selfies Book Awards 2023 Memoir Category).  I was so excited to receive a signed copy in the post the following morning with a lovely handwritten postcard.  

Twitter can be a force for good and I can't wait to read it.  Judging by the intro, I know I'm in for an emotional and engaging read!

Bye for now!

Belfast, Birds, Booty Calls and Bargains

I finally got around to seeing a matinee performance of Belfast last weekend, the Kenneth Branagh directed film based on his childhood during the troubles in Northern Ireland.  

I can't include enough superlatives to describe this film.  It was, in my opinion, a perfect piece of cinema; big, brooding skies over Belfast cityscapes, stunning cinematography, great performances (notably from Ciaran Hinds and Jude Hill), innovative and impactful use of colour in a black and white film steeped in nostalgia and whilst the subject matter was rooted in a dark period in our history, it was treated sensitively and somehow remained largely uplifting.  

My only quibble would be the soundtrack, from Belfast's most famous son, Van Morrison.  Whilst I love many of the man's songs (having been introduced to him by my A Level English teacher, who drip fed me cassette tape compilations of his music), his reputation has been somewhat tarnished for me, given his stance during the pandemic and ill timed anti-restriction protest songs.  Still, you have to separate the art from the artist as they say.

Monday marked Valentine's Day.  We don't do enforced celebrations, so usually just exchange mildly abusive cards.  Plus, our Valentine's Day celebrations are forever reserved for the more momentous occasion of our son's birthday.  The timely arrival of a provisional driving licence through the post on Valentine's morning, could not have been better, especially as we had only applied for it a few days earlier.  

These little crocus bulbs were placed in their vases 10 weeks ago, where they remained, hidden in a darkened outside drawer, devoid of light and regularly topped up with water.  Late last week I brought them inside and into the light and the first blooms appeared on Valentine's Day.  Call it serendipity.  Two miracles of nature!

Outside, after yet another leaf raking session, I noticed that the woodland bulbs we planted are beginning to poke through.  Hopefully this will ensure we have some colour for a little longer.

As is to be expected for this time of year, the garden is displaying remnants of winter's assail and positive signs of new life.  

I always leave the lace cap hydrangea flowers alone as I think they are just as beautiful in their wintry paper form as they are in full bloom.  

The wood pigeons are a permanent fixture in the oak tree and...

...I heard them before I saw them; a group of long tailed tits visited in Wednesday morning's all too brief sunshine.  They are noisy, gregarious little birds.  I just managed to capture this one awaiting its turn on the fat ball.

In other news, Valentine's Day was not lost on this pair of frogs.  

The grapes are doing incredibly well for February!

Following last week's blog post, the Red House Glass Cone shared the post and left a lovely comment on my Twitter feed.  It's nice to feel appreciated, but I genuinely feel that our corner of the Midlands is somewhat under-appreciated.  Inspired by my visit and Lulu's comment, we dug out our inherited collection of Chance handkerchief vases, cleaned them up and here they are, altogether on top of the chest in the front room.

I've scattered them around now, finding complimentary settings for each, including this one, which works very well with the bookshelf Penguin Classics Sherlock Holmes series as a backdrop.

With a seemingly endless succession of storms and low pressure headlines and with work (and a stomach bug for me) taking over this week, we've not travelled far.  

I received a reminder from the producers of Grayson Perry's Art Club of the themes and deadlines for the forthcoming series, having entered last year.  Cue much head scratching and a decision to enter something for the category 'Inside My Head.'  That should scare the living daylights out of them!  Here's a sneaky peak of the work in progress.  I have an idea "inside my head" to transform it into something moving and tangible, but am currently struggling with how best to execute it.  I have a few weeks to figure it all out/completely change course.

I've also indulged in one or two shopping sessions recently and this might be a good week to share a few of my finds.

First up this Dents Baker Boy hat, which usually costs around £30.00.  I paid less than five.

This silky (Polyester) pale pink top by a brand I hadn't heard of (Danish brand Mos Mosh) caught my eye and cost me £4.50, which is a steal when you check out the prices on their website.     

Another lovely cotton top; this time from Parisienne brand Suncoo (£3.50).

A handmade Turkish mug, made in the traditional Ottoman style - £2.99.

Gareth picked up this cheerful vase from a local charity shop.  We love a splash of red and this little West German piece is just perfect atop the fireplace in "nature corner."

We have also added to our meagre vinyl collection.  I love Billie Holiday and after Lulu told me how amazing she sounds on vinyl (she's not wrong), we bagged a couple of albums, together with Led Zeppelin II and an old Stones album.

So, all second hand finds, the most thrilling kind.  

Mercifully, we appear to have dodged the worst of Storm Eunice and the sun has finally broken through, although I'm not sure she's here to stay.  How have you fared? 

The Red Shoes

Following on from last week's Balls to Black Friday blog, I thought I would share an outfit photo.  We've had a great deal of inclement weather in the last 7 days, so I've been reorganising my wardrobe in my spare time.  This one is almost entirely second hand: vintage Mina of Carnaby Street dress, Kriss cardigan (made in Sweden - a charity shop purchase, gorgeous quality and just works with this dress), Fat Face twisted leather belt (this week's charity shop find), new Beach Bum Snag tights (vegan, plastic free) and second hand cowboy boots.

Continuing my sort out in the kitchen I found a small jar at the back of a cupboard, containing shells I had collected from Luskentyre Beach on the Isle of Harris.  I decided that the shells and an Aladdin Sane card that had been languishing in a drawer for too long, needed to be framed in the two frames I had picked up at a charity shop a couple of months ago for £2.00 each.  Not a bad return on my investment.

Last Sunday we were very relieved to receive our booster jabs.  The queues were long but fast moving and the mood was upbeat.  There was a real community spirit and the view wasn't bad either with the community centre's walls adorned with local archive photos and artwork celebrating Wordsley's renowned glass heritage and historic canal network.

Apart from a very sore arm (a first for me), I felt fine, although Gareth did feel a little out of sorts for a couple of days.  

Post vaccine, we decided to take a walk and give my red Crocs - the perfect antidote to these blue days - a first outing.  They had arrived in the post the previous day, causing much celebration on my part and cries of "Noddy" from Gareth.  Storm Arwen ensured that the ground was muddy enough as we headed to Kinver Edge just as the sun started to dip in the sky.  I teamed them with Zara jeans (ebay purchase), vintage knit, vintage sheepskin coat, woolly hat and Turtle Dove recycled cashmere wrist warmers.

Gareth gave chapter and verse to a group of tourists on all of the local places of interest visible from the Edge's vantage point, so by the time we continued towards the trees, the light was fading fast and it had started to snow.  

Without a tripod (which I admit I rarely make the effort to carry), low light necessitates widening the aperture and/or increasing the camera's ISO.  Whilst I prefer natural light photography, I decided now was the time to try something new and experiment with my Nikon's on camera flash; both rear and full versions.  Sadly my bright cherry red wellies were not enough to light the way.

The verdict?  A mixed bag.  Perhaps a wooded area at dusk and in near blizzard conditions was not the best place to trial flash photography.  However, I did like picking out details to train the camera's focus on and how the flash followed suit.  This worked best when capturing the ghostly bark of the silver birch trees, fern fronds and the mysterious orbs amongst the conifer trees.

Boosted and with masks now mandatory in shops, I did visit a couple of local charity shops this week and came back with a few finds - When God was a Rabbit, by Sarah Winman, purchased on a whim and based on a recommendation by the shop assistant, the aforementioned twisted leather belt, a William Morris 2022 calendar (the only new item)... 

...and a pair of floral red clogs by Troentorp of Sweden, founded in 1907. 

I was pleased to note that Troentorp has always emphasized the importance of anatomically correctly constructed footwear, with a base that provides support for feet and back (yay!) The base of every Troentorp clog is made of extra thick planks of wood and constructed using specially developed equipment giving the soles their characteristic footbeds with raised heels and arch support.  The wood used is Alderwood, a type of wood that is well-known for its moisture-absorbing properties, and that keep feet dry and healthy during long days.  I was also happy to discover that the clogs have no signs of wear on the bottoms and that they retail at upwards of £90.00.  I realised when I put them safely away for summer, that they are now the second pair of red clogs I own.  Is this the start of something?

I did start wondering why I am attracted to red shoes...and I am.  I have two pairs of red Swedish clogs, my trusty cherry red DMs and now the red Crocs.  I have also worn and worn out more than one pair of red ballet flats in my time.  There is just  something about red shoes.  When you're downcast, a pair of red shoes cannot fail to lift the spirits.  This moment of reflection sent me hurtling down a rabbit hole, discovering a huge coincidence at the bottom.

Like most people, the first pair of red shoes that caught my attention would have been Dorothy's in The Wizard of Oz.  Those ruby red slippers featured on many a childhood wish list.  Curiously, whilst holed up inside against Storm Arwen at the weekend, I had a little play and created these Wizard of Oz inspired images.  

I am also a lifelong fan of Kate Bush.  Yes, she can appear deranged in some of her early music videos and I get why some people think she sounds like a cat on heat, but I love her.  There's something quintessentially English about her - in a good way.  Amongst the Kate Bush albums I bought and absorbed through my Walkman earphones, I remember listening to this album on repeat.  Title?  You guessed it.  The Red Shoes.  

I remember loving one song, Moments of Pleasure, particularly the poetry and imagery of her lyrics.    

"I think about us diving, diving off a rock into another moment."  

"The buildings of New York look just like mountains through the snow."  Lovely!

Anyway, I digress.  This album's title is taken from the 1948 film The Red Shoes, starring Moira Shearer as a young ballerina torn between her art and her romance with a young composer, and so I have Kate to thank for that introduction.  The film itself is based on the Hans Christian Anderson story.  If you haven't seen it, it is a masterpiece - visually stunning and the dancing sequences (even if you're no fan of ballet) are breathtaking.  Gareth and I watched it last Christmas and were rendered speechless at times.  The film was restored in 2009 and in 2017 a poll of 150 actors, directors, writers, producers and critics for Time Out magazine saw it ranked the 5th best British film ever.

Film still/poster artwork from The Red Shoes

Like many young girls, I took ballet lessons, which I enjoyed for a time (ahem, I may even have passed my Grade I with honours), before deciding my heart wasn't in it.  Quit while your ahead must have been my mantra!  My teacher was one Vilma Henwood, principle of The Henwood School of Dance and Dramatic Art in Stourbridge.  She was an imposing presence in the studio with her jet black hair - worn in wringlets (her sister Thelma, had a similar hairstyle but was blonde).  I recall her telling us to "Move with grace, like fairies - not a heard of elephants!"

Why am I sharing this you might ask?  Well earlier this year, I happened to read a local press feature on Vilma, who I was delighted to discover is still very much alive and now a spritely 90 year old.  But here's the fascinating fact, coincidence, whatever you want to call it.  Vilma featured in The Red Shoes.

https://www.stourbridgenews.co.uk/news/19184892.stourbridge-dance-teacher-90-hopes-return-classes/redited as appearing in the Red Shoes.  Maybe that's where my obsession started.  

I have no recollection of her mentioning this claim to fame, although it's possible that she did.  Either way, I'm still reeling from the knowledge that I was taught by such a formidable talent; it's just unfortunate that her stardust failed to land on me!  But, I do love red shoes.