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Tag Archives: enamel

Ooh yes, a bit of formica…

I would love to be able to reveal our transformed kitchen but sadly it is still in flux, the last few bits seem to be just taking forevs. But here’s a couple of swatches of what we are trying to do…

This book case was a nifty £7 from a pretty massive charity shop, although most of you will never see it as it is in a sad, tiny, faraway place called Harwich where we visited one disastrous day to pick up our vintage-esqu fridge. Really, that charity shop saved the day.

This collection of copper tins is from the good old Sallies, the enamel dishes and teapot from that time we drove 12 hours in France to go to a carboot sale and the cute little cream maker was £4 from the Red Cross shop in Forest Hill. Although we have tried several times we can’t make cream with it, anyone have any tips?

And this lovely little hand coffee grinder was one of those gobsmackingly silly moments where we had been traipsing round charity shops having a wildly successful day when Tim said “All I need now is a lovely little wooden hand coffee grinder”. Next shop? A lovely little hand coffee grinder for £2. Beaut.

Here is a brand new old table, something we have been searching for for a while. We really wanted a formica table with drop leaf sides, with a lovely colour. Formica tables can be a bit on the small side so despite our searching we hadn’t found anything quite right.

Then Mum and Dad went to Whitstable.

Whitstable is a flipping brilliant place. It is just a short dash away from London on the train and is full of charity shops and antique shops, has a beach to wander along/ swim in (which I did that legendary hot October weekend) and fish and chips to munch.

So, my parents visited last week. They are great, my parents. My mum is a charity shop fiend, more committed than even me I think, and my dad use to have a hard time as once he had looked at the books he was a bit stuck. So in the name of romantical married excursions my dad invested in a record player. Now he can wile away HOURS scoping out old EP’s and classics and the four of us have taken those “Oh but the Fara in Shepherds Bush is a 9/10 for trinkets” conversations to a whole new level.

So here it is our formica table, withsome of our beautiful Jessie Tate Spanish Garden Midwinter crockery placed lovingly upon it. It was £55 which we were happy to pay for a 1950’s table in perfick nick.

Right, must get my skates on. Guess where we are going today? I hope to report next Monday with a whole lot more Whitstable goodness.

Today I am once again linking up with Miss Lizzie B’s spectacular Magpie Monday – if you like all things vintage and charityage you must scope it out.

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That time we drove 12 hours to go to a car boot sale

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We went to France ten days ago and, I swear, we didn’t have a clue where we were going or what to do there except that I had seen a snippet online; “the Vendee’s biggest flea market“, and being so beloved of the humble car boot,we thought that was as good a starting place as any.  And French old stuff is definitely cooler looking than English old stuff. Our lovely friends (Jenny is newly identifiable in blogville over at Talking up the good) lent us their wheels and we zipped off. We left on Friday and needed to be there for the Sunday- and after 2 days in the car we were wondering why France is so gosh darn big and whether we should have looked to see if there were any flea markets closer to Calais…

But we made it. And we had a mission, to try and find storage for all our previous cupboard incumbents, that now will sit on an open shelf in the kitchen.  We have been looking for something for ages but second hand storage is hard to find, and we try mightily to steer away from Ikea and buying anything new. There really isn’t a need as there is already way too many plastic containers on this earth. But sometimes this calling leads you to inevitably rainy and muddy corners  of Europe.

We got this load of enamel and glass, all ranging between 2 and 5 Euros, they will look perfect in our kitchen, though we may have to get rid of a little rust. And that wee kettle was idealio for our camping stove. (Also in the pic our newly revealed brick and boards as part our our kitchen overhaul woo!)On our way home, after swimming and chateaux visiting in the Loire valley we stopped in on the Paris flea markets at Porte de Montreuil and picked up another enamel thing (!), some clothes for Ramona (France do the best kids clothes no pink in sight but lots of cord and bloomers!) and an ancient cute hair clip.  All between 1 and 2 Euros.I read a thing in the Guardian yesterday about Hauling– teens doing youtube vids of the bargains they bought and I realise this isn’t much better. I am shamefaced, but I turn to you with imploring eyes and ask  “Is it not more of an achievement if I had to sift through rancid, boggle eyed stuffed otters and vintage Girly mags (old porn is still porn French people!!!!) to uncover this stuff?”

Besides, I am only doing this to INSPIRE and ENCOURAGE the world to spurn it’s new, plastic, matching set ways and discover the treasures to be found in the furriest, greasiest crevices of Jumble World. In France it is called Brocante, which sounds very much like the noise a chicken makes if you squawk it. This got us through some of our darker moments stuck in traffic on a peage (a PEAGE! I KNOW!! Ripped. Off.) Actually in hindsight every word sounds like a chicken noise if you squawk it…

We spent our last wonderful day lolling in the gardens at Versailles. Then the car, um, broke down. But  that’s a story for another day…