Vintage at Goodwood

So, I'm sure lots has happened since I last blogged (as always!) but here's one of my recent highlights:

Vintage at Goodwood

Well, there's been really mixed reviews of this. All I know is, I fucking hate rain and I fucking hate not having anything nice to wear to vintage-esque things. I wore a horrible dress from Next which was about the only relatively 40s - 50s thing I had gone but it was too fucking short and I laddered my cheating fake seamed stocking tights before I even left the house, so I was destined for failure. Really, I think I should just give up, because when you're a size 24, vintage don't work in your favour, unless you're doing Mama Cass or something (actually, I think I'd be a bloody good Mama Cass....)


I digress (although, I think I might totally go as her next year...) It was quite good, but I did feel like a total lemon and wished I'd had enough money to buy a swing dress (albeit, not a Vivien of Holloway one because I'm too fat and too poor). But I guess, this is all my own hang ups. Everyone looked the part, you could tell who was a proper vintager and who was a, pissing about with an afro wig and paisley kinda person. It was nice actually to see lots of different eras and styles represented, I think that was probably the big plus for me. So what if that means I'm not a 'purist'!

There was a lot to do, in terms of dances and bands and acts and stuff. We were lucky enough to be front of the queue for the Chap fashion show which was quite fun.



But then, that meant we kinda missed out on the Jive lesson (plus, it looked bloody packed up there) and likewise, it was rammed for the Tea Dance because by that point, the heaven's had well and truly opened!

I had my hair done, which was fun, but I'm still pretty crap at Victory Rolls (the more I type, the more I think I might give up and defect to the 70s, I can do a pretty mean beehive and I at least have TWO original 70s dresses at home!).

Then I went and had the biggest ever Peep Show moment with some people at the Chap Olympics, I literally wished the ground had opened up and swallowed me, literally, so embarrassing, plus my sister embarrassed me in front of some people which was nice of her, then I kinda didn't say anything so they just started having their own conversation and I was like, umm okay. Then went to talk to Fleur de Guerre, and probably looked like a right old stalker, because all I could think of to say was that I'd seen some photos of her on a mutual friends' Flickr photostream. Nice one Amy, you fucking stalker! Apologies to all and sundry who had to be involved in my excruciating shyness!

And it rained. And it didn't let up. And Fortnum and Mason wanted £4 for a tea. And there just wasn't anywhere to go to get away from the rain. Tried to take shelter in the 60s stage, whatever it was called, but it was rammed full of people watching Baby Loves Disco (I have a 2 year old, lets not forget, and that was the only point of the day I wished she was with me so I could at least get in to the bloody place and get dry under the pretences of being eligible to join in with my 2 year old!)

But in the bleak dampness there were a few bright sparks. The guys playing their bongos in a camper van,
The guys from the Mighty Booth (witness the fitness...)

and the lovely ladies (and cute tattooed lad) from the Marvellous Tea Dance Company for serving the best tea (I don't even drink tea, I do now thanks to them!) and cake,



I mean, I didn't buy any clothes, I hate rummaging and at this size, there's no point, they'll either charge a premium or it just won't exist. What I did buy was an Edwardian parasol in red, to replace my broken black one, a pop up 50s sun hat, and a hair clippy thing that I'm useless and getting to stay in my hair nice and tight.

Will I go again? Probably yes, but probably only as a hopeful helper when my sister hopefully has a stall there for Rockabetty Studios and if I go for the weekend, I will take the advice of my fussy side and stay in a B&B (or try to stay with my aunt in Boxgrove...) I think if you ignored the commercialism of it (which, yes, was hard, with it stabbing you in the eyes in the main high street) it wasn't a bad way to spend a day, I just wish I'd gotten to see some bands and the tea dance and stuff.

Anyway, you can see the photos from the day on my Flickr photostream (along with a set of Fleur de Guerre in her Able Grable Dream Girl, I'm really not a stalker, I promise, I was asked to take them...)