I took last week off work in order to move, go to a couple of gigs and most importantly turn 31!
As it was my birthday week I booked in the kinds of activities that I always promise myself I will do and then never get round to, one of which was the Vogue exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery.
I have been to a couple of exhibitions recently which were disappointing and at £17.00 per ticket I wondered if Vogue's offerings would hold up...of course it did, it's Vogue.
As a teenager I was an avid fan of Vogue, my aunt would give me her used copies and I would pour over it all, but mainly the handbags which have always been a bit of a problem for me. I recounted to my friend how I used to cut out the images of the Chanel bags and stick them to the border of my bedroom at 13. I remember distinctly thinking that I would know when I was a real lady, because I would own a Chanel bag. In case you are wondering, no, I don't own one!
The exhibition was well thought out and we were given a map upon entering to navigate it, we were greeted by a selection of Vogue covers ranging from the magazine's inception to present day which, to a geek like me, was fascinating. The art work of the 20's and 30's covers was just beautiful and I was struck by how familiar I was with some of the images, despite not being that much of a Vogue historian. They must seep into the subconscious somehow!
Further into the exhibition there was an enormous corridor containing photographs of designers and an impressive portrait of Kate Moss which was a screen print on foil, but I was distracted by the floor to ceiling image of the late Alexander McQueen smoking a cigarette with his skull companion. It's an iconic portrait of McQueen that seems macabre now that he has passed. His eyes seemed to be observing over the entire corridor like the gatekeeper of fashion, perhaps that was the aim. It was certainly effective. It made me more than a little sad having watched a documentary about his life recently.
The rooms off of the main space were grouped by century the 20's, 30's 40's and so on. Each room was given it's own era appropriate style and my personal favourite was the lavender 1920's room with it's art deco details, the more modern rooms of the 90's and 00's were painted white and the large and striking images were the decor themselves.
It was thought provoking to read how fashion has responded to key points in history (the "New Look" response to the end of WW2, the power dressing women's fashion of the 80's) upon observing the past the clothes on our backs really do mirror the political and economical climates, especially in times of unrest.
Of course I took an avid interest in the 40's and 50's rooms but one of the most interesting parts of the exhibition for me was the planning room which showed how images were selected by the editor and made it into the issues of Vogue.
Without the use of modern technology the images had to be projected onto the wall in the darkness and flicked between, back and fourth, to study the images and make selections. It was headache inducing and to my eyes I could see how people could argue that the images were all the same. But the longer I looked the more I could see the distinct difference between two photographs. To anyone who says that fashion is just "clothes" I would encourage you to spend 10 minutes in that room and consider the skill that went into creating these magazines, without getting a migraine.
The last part of the exhibition we visited was the long and narrow display of Vogue magazines from each year of it's reign as the fashion bible. Some showed the cover art whilst others were open, displaying a range of subject material from photoshoots to articles about art, design and of course the odd celebrity.
All in all we spent two hours pouring over Vogue's history and were certainly not disappointed.
The last stop was the gift shop which, as you can imagine, had an array of items on offer, from vogue lip balms in vintage style compacts to original 1940's copies of the magazine itself. It was the only part of the whole exhibition that I felt could have done with some thought (possibly my inner 13 year old without any pocket money was coming through)
Most of the products were somewhat expensive and whilst I accept that this is all part of the money spin of an exhibition it would have been nice to see more individual postcards on sale rather than having to buy a box set at just shy of £15.00. Having said that the book that accompanies the exhibition was on offer at a special price and very reasonable at £35.00.
It was whilst musing the prices of the gift shop that my friend and I concluded that we are very lucky in England, and in London in particular, that we are able to take advantage of museums for free, it's a privilege that I certainly don't undertake enough but have vowed to do more and if those exhibiitons that need to be paid for support and promote heritage and culture then it's money well spent in my book.
All in all this exhibition was very much worth seeing, sadly but understandably, there were no photographs allowed so if you have time before the 22 May 2016 it's one that I would highly recommend.
With Love
RB
Wednesday 30 March 2016
Friday 11 March 2016
Lady Sings The Blues
I wish I had known what I was getting into when I decided to tackle the hoard.
This week I have been procrastinating over moving house, I have looked at the piles of things I have sorted out for Ebay, I have sat with the bundles of bank statements that are years old and of no use to me, the payslips going back approximately the 156 months of my working life. It’s so much worse than I thought.
Aside from sorting out the clothes I mentioned in my earlier post I’ve found stuff that belonged to my exes, things that I was making for people that never got finished, photos I have kept even though I don’t recognise the people in them. It’s like I have an allergy to throwing things away. I know I’m not the only person in the vintage world afflicted with this so I thought I’d do a post about it.
I am moving into what is effectively a box room and am finding it so hard to know exactly where to start with this huge pile of crap, and it’s making me more than a little depressed. I was so excited to move but to all positive things there is a negative I guess.
If you have ever seen the TV show hoarders, where some poor sod who started a china doll collection in 1995 has found themselves facing eviction because adult protective services are threatening to take them away then you’ll get the idea. It’s only a matter of time until they come for me.
My living space at the moment is just split into piles, piles of clothes, piles of books, piles of craft making stuff from every business I was ever going to start up and never did. As much as they are depressing me to look at and as delicate as I am currently feeling I am unwilling to do anything about them, they are mine after all and they are both figuratively and literally building me a fortress in which I can bunker down and wait for this feeling to pass.
My sister who has effectively been acting as an outsourced carer service has been in despair, why haven’t I put anything on Ebay, why am I not further along the organisational road, why am I just plain useless at sorting myself out (my words not hers).
Now don’t get me wrong, I am great at doing this for other people, I can give a “pick yourself and dust yourself off” speech with the best of them, but when it comes to myself I fall flat. I am very grateful to my sister for her help in geeing me up but I just want to ignore all of it.
I have always been the same, ever since school and the notion of homework was introduced, I procrastinate until racing to a deadline becomes necessary and, of course, stressful. After the stress has passed I give myself a hearty pat on the back for doing such a good job under these circumstances. Circumstances that are of my own making.
Moving should only going to be a good thing for me, I will be living much closer to work and will no longer have to commute, which currently has a massive impact on my life, I will have my independence once again and will be able to do so many of the things I have wanted to do in London (Swing dance lessons, joining the WI etc.) so I don’t know what’s got me feeling so sad.
It’s time to channel my inner landgirl and just dig deep I suppose. I have never lived far from my hometown in my life, even the properties I rented in my twenties were no more than half an hour from the house I was raised in and town that stretches around it in a deeply unglamorous part of Essex.
I’m going to miss it, I’ll miss my family, I’ll even miss our horrible little dog who, in his old age, demands to be let out for a piss every half hour. Maybe that’s what’s got me in such a funk this week, as I crawl closer to the finish line of moving day.
Also as deeply needy as this sounds I have only ever really lived with a man, and in single times I always went home. I will have housemates until June in this interim property before I try to find a suitable studio close to work. I hate the idea of living alone, everyone tells me I will love it but I seriously have my doubts. It’s something you have to try once apparently so maybe now is my time.
So this 31 year old wimp is going to pull herself together and get on with it, after all what else can I do, live at home with my mother like some co dependant Miss Havisham? Well yes actually that sounds rather tempting…where did I put that wedding veil…..
Until next time
Love
RB
XX
This week I have been procrastinating over moving house, I have looked at the piles of things I have sorted out for Ebay, I have sat with the bundles of bank statements that are years old and of no use to me, the payslips going back approximately the 156 months of my working life. It’s so much worse than I thought.
Aside from sorting out the clothes I mentioned in my earlier post I’ve found stuff that belonged to my exes, things that I was making for people that never got finished, photos I have kept even though I don’t recognise the people in them. It’s like I have an allergy to throwing things away. I know I’m not the only person in the vintage world afflicted with this so I thought I’d do a post about it.
I am moving into what is effectively a box room and am finding it so hard to know exactly where to start with this huge pile of crap, and it’s making me more than a little depressed. I was so excited to move but to all positive things there is a negative I guess.
If you have ever seen the TV show hoarders, where some poor sod who started a china doll collection in 1995 has found themselves facing eviction because adult protective services are threatening to take them away then you’ll get the idea. It’s only a matter of time until they come for me.
My living space at the moment is just split into piles, piles of clothes, piles of books, piles of craft making stuff from every business I was ever going to start up and never did. As much as they are depressing me to look at and as delicate as I am currently feeling I am unwilling to do anything about them, they are mine after all and they are both figuratively and literally building me a fortress in which I can bunker down and wait for this feeling to pass.
My sister who has effectively been acting as an outsourced carer service has been in despair, why haven’t I put anything on Ebay, why am I not further along the organisational road, why am I just plain useless at sorting myself out (my words not hers).
Now don’t get me wrong, I am great at doing this for other people, I can give a “pick yourself and dust yourself off” speech with the best of them, but when it comes to myself I fall flat. I am very grateful to my sister for her help in geeing me up but I just want to ignore all of it.
I have always been the same, ever since school and the notion of homework was introduced, I procrastinate until racing to a deadline becomes necessary and, of course, stressful. After the stress has passed I give myself a hearty pat on the back for doing such a good job under these circumstances. Circumstances that are of my own making.
Moving should only going to be a good thing for me, I will be living much closer to work and will no longer have to commute, which currently has a massive impact on my life, I will have my independence once again and will be able to do so many of the things I have wanted to do in London (Swing dance lessons, joining the WI etc.) so I don’t know what’s got me feeling so sad.
It’s time to channel my inner landgirl and just dig deep I suppose. I have never lived far from my hometown in my life, even the properties I rented in my twenties were no more than half an hour from the house I was raised in and town that stretches around it in a deeply unglamorous part of Essex.
I’m going to miss it, I’ll miss my family, I’ll even miss our horrible little dog who, in his old age, demands to be let out for a piss every half hour. Maybe that’s what’s got me in such a funk this week, as I crawl closer to the finish line of moving day.
Also as deeply needy as this sounds I have only ever really lived with a man, and in single times I always went home. I will have housemates until June in this interim property before I try to find a suitable studio close to work. I hate the idea of living alone, everyone tells me I will love it but I seriously have my doubts. It’s something you have to try once apparently so maybe now is my time.
So this 31 year old wimp is going to pull herself together and get on with it, after all what else can I do, live at home with my mother like some co dependant Miss Havisham? Well yes actually that sounds rather tempting…where did I put that wedding veil…..
Until next time
Love
RB
XX
Wednesday 2 March 2016
Fudge it and Scarper...Vintage Carrot Fudge Recipe
In a bid to mix things up and not only write about hair makeup and clothes, I decided to get my pinny on and make an attempt at a recipe from days gone by.
These recipe blog posts will be somewhat experimental and I will give you honest opinions even if things aren't quite as delicious as the Ministry of Food would have liked us to think!
I give you....
This recipe is very easy to make and uses only three ingredients.
You will need:
2 large carrots
Orange Essence
Gelatine leaf (I used a vegan version for non pork eaters!)
Fine grater
Flat bottom dish
Saucepan
Heatproof stirrer
1. Wash and cut the tops off your carrots, then use the fine end of the grater and grate the carrots into a bowl. It is easiest to do this from the large end of the carrot where you have cut the top off and work to the smaller end.
2. Add the carrots to the saucepan and add in boiling water (just enough to cover the carrots) stir in a tablespoon to a tablespoon and a half of orange extract and allow to cook for 10 mins, stirring occasionally. Yep it should look a bit like sick at this point, but it should smell nice and orangey.
3. After 10 minutes add the prepared gelatine leaf and stir for 2-3 minutes continuously. You will need to read the instructions of the gelatine brand you are using to prepare it. I used a vegan gelatine powder which could be sprinkled in straight from the packet.
4. Remove from the heat and place the mixture in the flat bottom dish and leave in a cool place, once the mixture has cooled you can place it in the fridge or a larder overnight. It will not go hard like fudge so don't wait for that to happen!
5. Cut into cubes to serve
To call this fudge is slightly misleading as it has a texture somewhere between jelly and turkish delight.
The taste was odd, nothing came through particularly strongly at first, of course it tasted of carrot and had a little citrus zing. It's not overly sweet which is unsurprising considering it contains no sugar. The aftertaste is stronger than the actual chewing of it, but it is in no way offensive.
I used my colleagues as the tasters for this recipe and the reviews were certainly mixed...
One described it as "A wobbly melt on the tongue...tantalising" whilst others said it was a funny texture, the name fudge was misleading and that is was just plain "Carroty"
Some said they could see why children would like it, and another described it as challenging...challenging to see why someone would try to make carrots into fudge in the first place perhaps!
Overall if you were a child of the era who had been without any kind of sweets in some time I have no doubt this would have seemed like a treat.
Ideas: It would make an excellent healthier alternative to halloween jelly, it would look great set into moulds and the orange colour would be on theme for the holiday.
It would also be interesting to spice it up a bit with some nutmeg or cinnamon to add to the flavour without being frivolous with sugar, after all the WI's jam needs come first!
With Love
RB
XX
Sources:
http://www.carrotmuseum.co.uk/history4.html
Recipe sourced from Colleen Moulding's "Frugal Recipes from Wartime Britain"
These recipe blog posts will be somewhat experimental and I will give you honest opinions even if things aren't quite as delicious as the Ministry of Food would have liked us to think!
I give you....
Carrot Fudge
This recipe is very easy to make and uses only three ingredients.
You will need:
2 large carrots
Orange Essence
Gelatine leaf (I used a vegan version for non pork eaters!)
Fine grater
Flat bottom dish
Saucepan
Heatproof stirrer
1. Wash and cut the tops off your carrots, then use the fine end of the grater and grate the carrots into a bowl. It is easiest to do this from the large end of the carrot where you have cut the top off and work to the smaller end.
2. Add the carrots to the saucepan and add in boiling water (just enough to cover the carrots) stir in a tablespoon to a tablespoon and a half of orange extract and allow to cook for 10 mins, stirring occasionally. Yep it should look a bit like sick at this point, but it should smell nice and orangey.
3. After 10 minutes add the prepared gelatine leaf and stir for 2-3 minutes continuously. You will need to read the instructions of the gelatine brand you are using to prepare it. I used a vegan gelatine powder which could be sprinkled in straight from the packet.
5. Cut into cubes to serve
The results
To call this fudge is slightly misleading as it has a texture somewhere between jelly and turkish delight.
The taste was odd, nothing came through particularly strongly at first, of course it tasted of carrot and had a little citrus zing. It's not overly sweet which is unsurprising considering it contains no sugar. The aftertaste is stronger than the actual chewing of it, but it is in no way offensive.
I used my colleagues as the tasters for this recipe and the reviews were certainly mixed...
One described it as "A wobbly melt on the tongue...tantalising" whilst others said it was a funny texture, the name fudge was misleading and that is was just plain "Carroty"
Some said they could see why children would like it, and another described it as challenging...challenging to see why someone would try to make carrots into fudge in the first place perhaps!
Overall if you were a child of the era who had been without any kind of sweets in some time I have no doubt this would have seemed like a treat.
Ideas: It would make an excellent healthier alternative to halloween jelly, it would look great set into moulds and the orange colour would be on theme for the holiday.
It would also be interesting to spice it up a bit with some nutmeg or cinnamon to add to the flavour without being frivolous with sugar, after all the WI's jam needs come first!
With Love
RB
XX
Sources:
http://www.carrotmuseum.co.uk/history4.html
Recipe sourced from Colleen Moulding's "Frugal Recipes from Wartime Britain"
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