Today we took my MiL to an antique and collectibles fair in the Quaint Historic Market Town where we used to live. I love antique fairs, but we haven’t been to one for yonks. I love oo-ing and ahh-ing at all the gorgeous junk that these places thrust into my line of vision.
There can be something quite magical about wandering around immersing yourself in the history of other folk. Once upon a time a child played with that doll, and a woman powdered her nose whilst sitting on a train with that compact, and some elderly chap lovingly wound up that grandfather clock … and oooh, nana had that tea set and look how much they’re selling it for!
There are two items that I particularly look for whilst poking around stalls, shying away from talkative stall-holders [who tend to be late middle-aged women with a passion for not letting you get away] and getting narked when the talkative stall-holders are talking to other folk and ignoring me. Firstly I look for perfume/scent bottles that are reasonably priced, and secondly I’m always on the lookout for children’s books.
Today there were no children’s books. But! There were four perfume/scent bottles that were not ridiculously priced.
So I bought them. And now my collection stands at around the fifty mark. Not bad.
Of course, having spent not very much money on four perfume/scent bottles it was only fair that we bought something that cost copious amounts of cash [well, £150, which is copious amounts if you’re not used to spending that much in one go], something that we had no intention of buying, and didn’t really need. And ok, so it’s something that’s not in tippity-toppity condition, but that just adds character. And it’s cute. And yummy.
And being a Victorian pine chest of drawers [with central mother of pearl decoration on the handles, just so you know] it will go beautifully with all our modern [mainly-] IKEA furniture. Huzzah!
I know I’m getting old because it excites me muchly. Even the thought of getting my new carpet washer thingy excites me muchly. If The Blokey hadn’t agreed to buy me one [because my carpets really do need a bloody good shampoo] when I kept whinging at him to do so, I think I may very well have asked for one for Christmas. And that’s a sure sign that I’m getting old.
Now I feel the need to go and do something young and exciting in order to balance myself out a bit. I think I might start by opening a bottle of wine …
please God bless the [probably dead] woman who previously owned that delightful 1920s scent bottle, made to look like a lipstick, which is very yummy and nice xxx Elsabeth