This weekend, several rather exciting things have happened.
On Friday, I saw some lovely chums who I haven’t seen since I left my job, and had the most amazing ribs (if you’re near to Hitchin, I’d definitely recommend them, and the restaurant they come from, Hermitage Road).
As I left, one of the waitresses told me how she’d just finished performing in West Side Story, and can’t help feeling under-dressed without a petticoat.
Welcome to the club, my friend.
Then, yesterday, I headed off to London to meet up with some rather lovely ladies: fabulous fellow bloggers Nicole, aka Coco Von Vintage, Sarah of Lipstick and Dresses and Catherine, Vintage Frills, (side note: I read their blogs regularly and get excited when they reply to my tweets. You have no idea how hard it was not to go all weird and giggly, as you would if you met up with, say, Emma Watson or Meryl Streep. I think I managed it. Mostly), the delightful Holly, former Miss Vintage UK, talented writer and generally lovely person, and the amazing Rhina, a botanist who speaks six languages fluently.
We also bumped into the lovely Florence, who runs a street style blog, and who you might remember from my post on Collectif’s 100 dresses event, and she asked to take my photo, and I got to tell her where my outfit was from. Possibly one of the most exciting fashion-based moments of my life.
First up, we headed to the Classic Car Boot Sale and I had a brilliant time! And – this is the first and last time you will ever hear me say this – I now feel a bit sorry for the Kardashians. The six of us apparently made a bit of an impression, and were stopped approximately every five minutes by someone asking to take our photo. Which was lovely and a very nice feeling. What wasn’t quite so wonderful was the people who just pushed their cameras into our faces and took our photo without permission. Let’s all be on the lookout for some flattering photos of me with my mouth half open and my mouth half closed…
I picked up a bargain vintage dress, found a frankly, one of the coolest bars I’ve ever seen (it’s in a BUS), and all manner of vintage and quirky stuff, all mixed in with beautiful classic cars. My stepdad would have been so proud – not because I recognised any makes whatsoever, but because I at least stopped to take some photos and appreciated their awesomeness.
To stop me rambling on, here are a few photos of the day. The weather was shocking (it’s APRIL, for goodness’ sake – what’s with the Arctic wind! Still I shouldn’t complain, as it meant I got to wear my favourite winter wardrobe staple, my Collectif Pearl coat), but I had a whale of a time, chatting to stallholders, looking for hidden gems and getting to know other fabulous 40s and 50s fans. Prices aren’t typical car boot sale prices (which I was prepared for, but I should probably mention, in case you’re not), but there’s a bit of something for everyone, whether you like hunting for a bargain, looking at classic cars or just squealing at some rare vintage finds; thanks to the lovely Holly, who has gotten stuck with educating me on these things – I have no idea, having mostly stuck to repro before now – I now know that Jonathan Logan is a very nice dressmaker indeed.
There was even a mobile vintage cinema, but unfortunately we didn’t have time to pop in, because next stop on the list was Cahoots, a bar in an abandoned Tube station, and somewhere I’ve wanted to go for months and months! I am so pleased I finally got to go and I already want to go back.
Hidden away a stone’s throw from Oxford Circus (assuming you could throw a stone pretty far. It’s not two feet from the station, which is probably all I could manage), it’s fantastic, and such a fun night out. Everyone working there gets into character (I had a lovely chat with the nice chap who took our coats about it being 1946), and everything was spot on with the decor. Even the toilets are designed with the era in mind, with black and white photos adorning the stalls, and hilarious-yet-slightly-creepy posters warning of the risks of syphilis and VD (look at the photo and see if you can guess we chap we decided wasn’t to be trusted).
There was a bit of a mix up with the booking, but it was sorted quickly and with a smile, and we settled down to some of the most elaborate cocktails I’ve ever seen. I sampled a few different ones (it would have been rude not to), and as soon as I stood up, I remembered the old saying (partly because Catherine took that moment to remind me of it) – ‘You really shouldn’t mix your drinks’. The nice people of Cahoots have obviously thought of this, and make sure you’re stocked up with water and popcorn on an almost constant basis. I also decided to soak up the various spirits with a toasted fish finger sandwich (well, it would have been rude not to). Who knew that toasting the bread turns what is already a taste sensation into something truly spectacular?
The drinks were all delightful, but I think The Gypsy’s Kiss wins for presentation (it’s a FOIL PINEAPPLE people!), and the Gracie Fields for taste and ‘making me feel like an elegant old Hollywood movie star’, what with the rose petals and prosecco foam.
As some of you know, I don’t really drink, so although by the time I got home, I felt absolutely fine (and up to bickering with The Boy about some renovations to the spare room), this morning I woke up feeling vaguely hungover. I blame the prosecco foam. Or maybe it was the yoghurt powder in the Katherine Hepburn…still, I’ve just made (and eaten a large slice of) a very chocolatey chocolate cake, which seems to have helped the fuzziness. As they’d say in Cahoots – huzzah!
And finally, it wouldn’t be a post if I didn’t ask you to vote for me for this year’s Miss Vintage UK competition if you haven’t already. If you could click on this link and like the photo, I’d be so grateful – thank you! https://www.facebook.com/twinwoodevents/photos/a.10153363505802657.1073741846.30797112656/10153363506167657/?type=3&theater