Vintage Love

It's no secret that I love vintage.

Vintage cutlery.

Vintage vases.

Vintage furniture.

But most of all I love vintage clothing.

My love of vintage began at the age of 16 at a big old barn of a shop in Christchurch city, Tasman Traders.

It was there I bought my first velvet blazer and a brown and white paisley shirt.

Years later I discovered Tete A Tete and spent many hours looking and trying on.  I still have a couple of the cutest 60's tops ever and a fabulous skirt that I like to pop on every now and then.  And I still dream about the one that got away.  A gorgeous orange long evening dress.  That almost fitted me.  Almost.  Damn my bodacious bust.  Sigh.

In Wellington I lived down the road from a very cool vintage shop, which eventually closed down, but I love the black ladies handbag I bought from there.

When I moved to Auckland I discovered Trade Me and it's been there that most of my recent vintage finds have come from.  (I've only recently been brave enough to venture up to K Road, which isn't scary at all, don't know why I thought it was)  Anyway,  the purchase below is my absolute favourite.  It makes me feel like a lady (especially when teamed with my vintage lady bag)

The Bloom of Happiness

I received a bunch of flowers unexpectedly today.
They were given with no rhyme.
With no reason.
They were given 'just because'.
I think this is the best way to give flowers.
I am happy.

xo

Let's discuss 'discuss'

I don't know when it happened.  Or how it happened.  It just happened.
At some point the great 'they' decided to follow up a comment with the word 'discuss'.

Will the world end in 2012?  Discuss.

What are the economic ramifications of cows farting?  Discuss.

Should those that wear white after Labour Day be flogged in public?  Discuss.

(For the record I don't get the don't wear white after Labour Day thing.  I googled it and apparently it's to do with only wearing summer fashions in summer months.  Here in New Zealand summer falls after Labour Day so I think it's perfect acceptable to wear white then.  Oh god, did I just 'discuss' something?  Nah, I commented on it, phew.)

What grates me about 'discuss'?

I suspect it's because it feels like everyone has to jump in and be the first to say something.  It's like a race.  And I hate races.  I'm slow.  I'm not athletic.  And I hate to lose.

Ready?  Set .... DISCUSS!!!

Sneaky little Sock Fairies

It was a little chillier than usual last night but not chilly enough to have to wear a full pj kit.  So I stuck to my usual Spring nighnigh outfit and added a pair of socks to keep my tootsies warm should the 4am chill strike.

Well, I woke up this morning and padded half asleep to the shower and on my return I happened to turn back my sheets (no idea why, clearly still half asleep) to find the sock fairies had paid me a visit during the darkest hours of the night and daintily removed my socks from my feet so as not to wake me and left them for me to find in the morning so I could put them in the wash.  How kind.

If only the sock fairies would talk to their chocolate fairy friends as I'd much rather wake up to a bar of chocolate than a pair of sweaty socks.

Whitebait? Why not!

Growing up on the east coast of the South Island I remember spending hours at the mouths of rivers as various family members and friends of the family would go whitebaiting.  When it was sunny it was quite fun, when it was overcast and cold, not so much.

Last year I was fondly recalling these times when I decided that I was going to buy whitebait once a year in order to recapture a hint of my youth.

Last year I made do with whatever whitebait I could find and it was all good.

But this year I sought out South Island whitebait.  And I found it.  Lord knows what part of the South Island it was from, but it tasted fantastic.  Probably no different from the North Island stuff.  But to me it tastes of hours spent playing on rocks, moaning to go home, then eventually tucking into a soft fluffy piece of white bread topped with a fresh whitebait pattie with a squeeze of lemon on top.

Kind of like this ...

The recipe?  Simply:

250 grams whitebait
2 free range eggs
Salt
Pepper

Whisk.
Fry in butter.
Serve.

Yum.

Baby that hurts!

Today I was struck down with a sore stomach.

Not a sore stomach where you suffer waves of 'uh-oh where's the loo' moments.

But a tummy ache which felt like a nest of vipers had erupted in my upper abdomen and decided to have a competition to see who could squirm the most.

I used to get these stomach pains in times of stress and decadence but they've eluded me for years, I blame laziness and the recession.

But today I revisited the excruciating pain.  And then my colleague (a former nurse) informed me what I was suffering what Adult Colic.

Blow me over with a feather and pop a dummy in my mouth.

Adult Colic.

What's next?  I'll lose all my teeth (again) and start teething (again).  And then I'll enjoy growing pains (agai.....)  Oh wait, hold on.  I'm 5'2.  I never felt growing pains.

You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

I once heard a comedian question the saying 'you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.'  Their feeling being why would you want to catch flies anyway?  I'm with them, I don't want to catch flies.  I prefer for the automatic fly spray thingy to kill them for me.

But this isn't the point of this post.  Nope.  The point of this post is ETA's new 'extreme' Salt N Vinegar chips.  Let me tell you, when I saw the word 'extreme' I got excited.  

Back in the day Bluebird did an 'extreme' version of S&V chips and they were so awesome they took a layer of skin off my tongue and singed my nostril hair.  Divine.

So it was with these memories that I bought ETA's version, ripped open the bag, inhaled and felt ... nothing.  Then I ate the chips.  There was salt.  There was vinegar.  But there was no 'extreme'.  

The only sour thing about them?  The look on my face.