Red Dress

I'm so sorry for being a rubbish blogger. If it were not for summer you'd be inundated with boring posts about my Grandmother's youth and dusty trinkets found in damp attics. I'm kind of an outdoors person. Not in the sense that I participate in insane pursuits like rock climbing and rafting, but I love to feel the grass between my toes and the breeze on my cheeks. The winter is endless so I'm making the best of the unpredictable British summer while I can.




Recent rainy afternoons have forced me inside where I've attempted to seek solace in the world of Etsy. My wishlist now has more entries than all volumes of Encyclopaedia Britannica. One item I have actually purchased however is the above adorable red Pierre Cardin dress. I love the colour and the sleeve ruffles. It will have to be hemmed up a little, but otherwise I cannot wait to wear it. It looks like a great date dress. If only someone knew of a cute single guy in a band they could send my way...

Tiny sewing kit

I'm not much of a seamstress. I couldn't even sew on a button. This little sewing kit was found in the aforementioned box of treasure and I'm ashamed to say it took me a while to work out what it was. The black cotton is almost entirely missing but everything else is perfect. I feel slightly inspired to sew something now but fear disaster.

Handle with Care

It's been a long time since I featured video on my blog (weekly video when I was over at Wordpress) but I was so excited when I saw this clip of the beautiful Jenny Lewis at Battery Park on 4th July. It features three of my favourite musicians - Jenny, Conor Oberst and my current crush, Nik Freitas (as well as Johnathan Rice). I love Jenny's outfit with the wee denim shorts.

From Grandma, with love

A few weeks ago my uncle arrived at our house laden with plastic bags filled to the brim with what he called “junk”, found during a late spring clean he’d been having at his house. He wanted to throw these things away but was reluctant to do so without consulting my mother first. These posessions had belonged to my Grandmother who died in 1995 and had been collecting dust in various parts of the house (he lives in the ancestral home) ever since. I had a fleeting look and dismissed it as indeed junk. When my mother and I found time to investigate the bags properly we found ornaments I remembered from childhood, the special occasion trifle bowl that was the centre piece of every Christmas table, photograph albums and something rather special.

At the bottom of one of the bags we found a small handmade box made from picture postcards, sewn together with cotton and finished with a lone blue button. My mother immediately recognised it as belonging to her Aunt Clarissa, who died in the early seventies. It was full of jewellery. Below are the highlights of a box that was filled with more treasure than I could ever include on here, and my absolute favourites.







This was my Grandmother’s best necklace. It’s good as new and so beautiful. I love the flower clasp.


A gift from the English seaside.

I have an extensive collection of inherited brooches and this is my new favourite. I'll be pinning it on my blazer as soon as the cooler weather comes along.


Ladybirds!



One man’s junk really is another man's treasure!

Anne Boleyn

They don’t teach much English history in British schools. Historical education here is all about the war-mongering bogey men of twentieth century Europe and greed inspired conflicts in Eastern sand-pits. I’m ashamed to say everything I know about the Britain of the past two thousand years I learnt from watching Time Team. That is however, excluding the Royal house of Tudor, which was taught to me in primary school by a scary elderley lady with wrinkles in her tights. I guess old Henry and his scandalous six wives are perfect for enchanting the enquiring mind of an eight year old. They certainly made an impression on me. Of Henry’s six wives staring back at me from a crumpled text book page it was always Anne Boleyn who excited me the most. It could have been because she seemed the most glamorous of an exceptionally unglamorous bunch, or that my Mother has always maintained she named me after Anne’s daughter, the first Queen Elizabeth, or maybe it was just the circumstances of her untimely demise… Anne just seemed interesting. As a grown up I stumbled across season two of The Tudors and my love of Anne was re-newed. Natalie Dormer’s Anne was, while not entirely historically accurate, the most mesmerising creature. It inspired me to begin reading about her life and background, even inspiring a fruitless treasure hunt around London’s National Portrait Gallery, in search of her most famous portrait. I could write all evening about the colourful life of the daughter of the Earl of Wiltshire and eventual Queen consort, but instead I’ll leave you with some pictures from The Tudors and the answer I received upon taking the Which wife of Henry VIII would you have been? quiz on Facebook. I think it sums her up well.




You use your wit and wiles to raise yourself from commoner to queen. When you have set your sights on a goal there is no turning back. You are wickedly smart and seductive and you are not going to let a little thing like the Holy Roman Empire sway you from your desires. You will live in infamy for wrapping a King around your finger and changing the course of history in England. Henry practically had to declare himself God to have you as wife. Unfortunately, the people of England despise you for replacing their beloved queen and the dangerous business of manipulating a man with a god-complex backfires. He has you convicted of witchcraft, adultery, incest and treason and you are beheaded after only 3 years of marriage. Well, you deal in high stakes. Perhaps it is some consolation that your daughter by Henry inherits your willful determination and becomes one of England's greatest Monarchs..