tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22164563587574639942024-03-19T05:53:44.728-07:00The Vintage TwinsMusings of redheaded twin sisters, as they tour Great Britain's hidden gems, and stately homes, searching for a good cup of tea and a history fix.Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-40333446861470616712015-10-21T13:52:00.001-07:002015-10-22T06:22:01.456-07:00Suffragette: Movies and Militants<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I was
terrified, sitting in that cinema, as the adverts rolled. The film had been
promised to us for so long, and now, here I was, Votes for Women badge glinted
on my lapel, waiting for Suffragette to begin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> Why was I so terrified? Because I didn’t know
how they were going to get it right. This was the portrayal of a formidable,
inspiring group of women, whose cause was just and true yet whose actions are
those of controversy and dispute. The
film focuses on the militancy of the suffragettes, and I just didn’t know how
they would make it work. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> I never questioned the actions of my heroes,
but something that happened to me on the first night of fresher’s week, five
years ago, made me sit down and had a long, hard think. I was 18; young,
painfully shy, and dressed in odd, charity shop garments. The first night out-
a bar crawl organised by our halls of residence, was themed Heroes and
Villains. Now reader, I could write a whole other blog post on the utter discomfort
I felt at dressing up as Cat Woman or Wonder Woman; but I won’t. I decided to
be myself- to start as I meant to carry on. Dressed in my sturdy lace up boots
and a high necked blouse with a cameo brooch on the collar, I flung my sash
around me with pride, and marched down the streets of Bristol drinking WKDs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> I cannot remember which fellow first year
said it to me- their face is lost in a sea of new names and nights out- but I
remember the words clearly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><i>
‘Are you supposed to be a hero or a villain?’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><i>I blinked. ‘A hero, obviously.’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><i>‘But the suffragettes were bad,
weren’t they? They hurt people and smashed stuff. They were terrorists.’ <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It was the
first time I ever thought about it- and after watching Suffragette, the
question came before me again. I didn’t want to sit through a film that
portrayed these women as terrorists, vandals, and nuisances. Indeed, a national
newspaper reported of the film that the women in it were terrorists and, to
paraphrase: ‘Should have listened to the good men around them’, accusing the
women in the film of ruining their lives over the need to cause chaos.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> Thankfully, <i>Suffragette</i> does not encourage this idea of the suffragette
movement. The militancy of the suffragettes, who did indeed employ arson and
vandalism, is shown with a brutal honesty. It doesn’t glorify these actions,
but it does demonstrate the desperation and the lengths that the WSPU went to
in order to get their voices heard. The acts were not mindless. Though extreme,
they were the actions of people who were not free. I think the reason people
condone the militant acts of the suffragettes is because the face of the
movement- Emmeline Pankhurst- is perceived as an upper middle class
conservative who already had already made an impact on the government and on
the country. I think it is easy to wonder why she encouraged her devoted
followers to employ this sort of behaviour, when she had already made herself
and the cause heard everywhere. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> However, it is important to remember that not
all suffragettes were Emmeline, Sylvia, or Christabel Pankhurst- those names we
hear repeatedly when we think of the term ‘suffragette’. The film teaches us an
important lesson in this- those women lower down in the class system did not
have a voice- essentially, they were not free. The film is a moving portrayal
of the working class women who joined the fight- though the protagonist, Maud
Watts, is fictional, she represented the hoards of women who came out to fight
for their equality and for their vote, and were not remembered in the same way
that the famous Pankhurst women were. These were the women who sacrificed
everything for the cause. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The
collection of Suffragette material at the People’s History Museum is another
reminder of this. The suffragette Hannah Mitchell, whose kitchen is replicated
in our galleries, is a true example of how working class women gave up their
entire lives for the struggle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">Hannah, who
eventually became a Councillor in Manchester, did not have the same social
freedom as the higher class suffragettes. In her autobiography, she describes
her arrest in 1906, and her subsequent release. She wrote: ‘I was not pleased
to find my husband outside. He knew we did not wish for our fines to be
paid...’ Though many men supported the campaign, the place of the working class
woman was in the home- cooking, cleaning, and caring for the children- they
refused to allow their wives to fight for their cause in jail, for they were
lost without them at home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> These militant acts portrayed in the film and
in the museum demonstrate the true struggle these women faced- not merely the
right to have a go, and to cross a piece of paper, but the right to own their
own lives, their own choices, and their own future. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> So- to the fresher so long ago who challenged
me. They are heroes. They always will be heroes. They were not mindless
militants but women chained to the fate of the men in their lives, women who
needed to escape. These women cleared the way for me to vote, to learn, and to
flourish. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> So thanks Meryl, Carey, Anne-Marie, and
Helena. Thank you Abi Morgan. You did the best job in celebrating this
movement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"> But most of all, thank you to all the women
who lived and died for this most worthy cause. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Shout, shout, up with your song!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Cry with the wind for the dawn is
breaking,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">March! March! Swing you along,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">Wide blows our banner and hope is
waking.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-30787891965947839772015-10-13T02:01:00.001-07:002015-10-13T02:02:27.213-07:00Across the Pennines: Chapter IIYet another train journey across to North Yorkshire, though this time there was no warming summer sunshine, no pretty fifties dresses, and no Bank holiday strolls.<br />
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Turns out, North Yorkshire is just as stunning in the Autumn. A watery sun painted itself across a crisp, blue sky, marked with hundreds of falling flame coloured leaves. </div>
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Our trip took us to Fountains Abbey, using our National Trust cards of course, and took us on a riveting exploration of the ruins of the monastery. It is the most beautiful, relaxing place. The staff were particularly lovely and the grounds offered a range of interesting things to see, from the folly to the many water features.</div>
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Helen particularly enjoyed Anne Boleyn''s seat- the perfect view of the Abbey- though Anne never visited the Abbey, the seat is named after a statue of her on the grounds. It truly brings to mind the Dissolution of the Monasteries by Henry VIII, his desire to marry Anne being one of the catalysts, and as you look over at the ruins, Anne's presence is a cold reminder of why it lies in ruins.<br />
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The perfect Autumn weekend.</div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-62651715716950523142015-09-24T14:21:00.000-07:002015-09-24T14:47:21.642-07:00An Ode to the WeasleysYou may have noticed that we are proud redheads. It is impossible not to notice that we are also identical twins. What you probably don't know is that we are the bothersome middle children, and born in the month of April. All of these are traits shared by Fred and George Weasley.<br />
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You can imagine how it felt reading that fateful chapter in <i>Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows</i>. (SPOILER) I STILL HAVEN'T FORGIVEN YOU, JO. WHY, FRED, WHY?!<br />
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Our house always felt a bit like The Burrow. My mother is the epitome of Mrs Weasley, forever trying to looking after everyone, not a woman to be trifled with. There's always something going on, always two or three extra guests hanging around, always, always cake. We might as well hang a banner across the front door saying '<b>Strangers, WELCOME</b>. (<i>You will be fed</i>.)' It was always wonderful to see this kind of family at the heart of the books. How warm, how caring, how kind they were, and how this made them<i> so</i> much better off than anyone else; the Weasley family contributed so much to the essence of the series.<br />
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We actually got to be the Weasleys last weekend. For our younger sister Jenny's (<i>very much the Ginny of the family</i>) 18th birthday, and to celebrate her heading off to university, the three of us, and our older sister (<i>the 'Bill' if you like...she'll hate me for this...stop me now</i>), took ourselves off to Watford, for the Harry Potter Studio Tour.<br />
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It was incredible. One of our favourite bits was getting to nosy inside The Burrow. And Helen and I, much to our sensible and lovely sisters' embarrassment, got to unleash our inner, geeky, Weasley twin selves. Flying car, Weasley Wizard Wheeze's, geeky purchases from the gift shop...check, check, check.<br />
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Thank you to our sisters for putting up with us, and for such a nice day.<br />
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And thank you J.K Rowling, who created characters two ginger troublesome twins could relate to, who made us laugh and made it okay to stand out like (two) sore thumb(s). It was okay to not be perfect, to be a bit mischievous. To make people laugh, but to also get told off, to be different. It was okay to be part of a big, mad family, because the Weasleys made it so. <br />
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Please enjoy some photos as a tribute to our favourite twins, and our favourite fictional family.<br />
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<br />Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-33901326534974467542015-09-09T08:33:00.000-07:002015-09-09T08:45:44.862-07:00September<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Blackberries are here.</div>
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<br />Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-56646766019885262242015-08-15T12:25:00.002-07:002015-08-15T12:25:34.306-07:00A Veritable Catch Up- Where Have We Been?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"> One of my favourite things to do is sitting
down and blogging, but alas, it’s been too long. The Vintage Twins have divided
and conquered recently, with travels to London, Devon, Cornwall, the Peaks, and
Yorkshire- rattling train journeys filled with books and music, and endless
gazing out of windows. The weeks have passed by just as quickly; how is it I find
myself just a few weeks off blackberry picking season? Can it be a year since
our last semi-disastrous jam making adventure? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"> Hm. Must be. So, this free, lazy Saturday afternoon,
I am curled cross-legged in my living room, and the sun is streaming in.
Stanley the tabby has convenient sat by my head and blocked the sunlight from
my screen. Silently, this is his way of telling me to get on with it and write.
There’s a large vase of lilies in front of the fireplace, that’s filling the
room with scent. It’s the perfect sitting to talk about the recent goings on in
our nostalgic lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Capturing Salford<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"> We went rambling around a local country park
in Salford last weekend. Salford isn’t associated with the country side- it’s industrial
and gritty, but in a completely lovable and wonderfully historical kind of way.
Salford shaped us- like us, it combines old with new, history with the future,
new stories and old stories. The blackberries we pick for jam making grow a
short walk away from the industrial park round the corner from us, and the
country park is full of power lines, but that doesn’t stop it from being
stunning- it adds something new to it. Everybody is fond of where they come
from- Salford is rich in history, culture, and nostalgia, it’s hard not to feel
immensely proud of it. These photos are just a taste of the other side of
Salford- the side filled with wild flowers, nature treks and beautiful sunsets!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Books and Flowers<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"> It’s an old love, a lost love. But recently,
on a trip to the hidden beaches of Cornwall, my love was rekindled. A reunion
with the glorious amalgamation of tumbling cliff sides and overgrown hedgerows,
roaring tides and soft sandy beaches, all surrounded by masses and masses of
wild flowers gave me a hit of nostalgia. Everywhere I looked, I saw scenes from
one of our favourite childhood reads- The<i>
Flower Fairy </i>books, by Mary Ciecly Barker. The strangest thing- when I
returned home, Catherine presented me with a present, completely out of the blue
and a strange coincidence- <i>A Flower
Fairies Treasury! </i>It was such a delightful coincidence. Barker was inspired
by the Pre-Raphaelites, and it’s so apparent in the rich colours and drawings- I
feel you can almost smell the flowers and hear the songs when flicking through
the pages. Some of my favourites are the Cornflower Fairy and the Bluebell
fairy, but the Queen of the Meadow is definitely right at the top.</span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">NW to SW <o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"> We both went to University down in the South
West of England- Helen to Bristol and Catherine to Exeter- so it holds a
special enchantment over us. We were both lucky to get down there on holidays
throughout July. Catherine’s adventures took her from roaming the National Art
Gallery in London (head to toe in Cath Kidston no less), to taking a very early
train down to our old haunt, Topsham. Catherine and Matthew stayed in the beautiful
Globe Inn, walked the Goat Walk in the mornings and took tea at our very own
Topsham Lock Cottage, where we spent some glorious summers waitressing, baking,
and running around like two Enid Blyton escapees. The photos say it all- Catherine’s
return was very much welcomed, especially with Mike the ferryman! The star
event of the holiday was Catherine’s adored friend’s wedding- a beautiful, fun
filled affair, with lots of joy. Catherine of course wore a wonderfully vintage
inspired dress. If you haven’t visited the Lindy Bop website, I implore you to
GO- Catherine looked smashing in this Hummingbird patterned fifties inspired
dress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"> Helen’s trip took her to the coast of
Cornwall near Looe, where her and her friends took on the roles of the Famous
Five and adventured all week! Swimming, skimboarding, and climbing through
caves and coves and down cliff sides- it was gloriously sunny week and fun,
laughter and backgammon. Yep, Helen is good at backgammon now. A perfect rainy
day past time. One of the many highlights of the trip was a trip into Looe, a
sweet seaside town. The Kitchenside Bakery was the most accommodating,
nostalgic, and loveliest café, where we sampled an incredible afternoon tea
surrounded by beautiful décor – the most amazing wall decorated by very real
looking wallpapered bookshelves! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><u><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">Perfect Peaks <o:p></o:p></span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;"> One of our bezzie mates Steph was back in the
glorious North this weekend, so we spent Saturday and Sunday in the peaceful
peaks of Broadbottom and Glossop. The highlights were not only some amazing
food at Chez Steph, but a great late night walk (repeated in the morning to
actually see the view), and a visit to the Lymefield Garden Centre and Farm
Shop, which was glorious- I had the best piece of Lemon Meringue Pie ever! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif;">So there you have it- a pretty great excuse as to why we've been so quiet, don't you think? We'll be back with some National Trust goodness and more nostalgic writings soon. </span></div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-41881423021353390702015-06-29T06:26:00.002-07:002015-06-29T06:26:13.198-07:00Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><i>“Strengthen the female mind by enlarging it, and there will be an end to blind obedience.” </i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Mary, Mary. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> She <i>was</i> quite contrary. To her contemporaries, her thoughts, her actions, her words were shocking, were vulgar, were distasteful. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"> Which obviously makes her another part of the<a href="http://theyworeyesterday.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/becoming-ellen-what-they-wore-yesterday.html"> Vintage Twins Heroine</a> Series. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Mary Wollstonecraft was born in 1729. She died aged 38, after the birth of her most famous child, the incredibly talented Mary Shelley. In her short life, Mary Wollstonecraft was dynamically controversial, unorthodox, dramatic, and sorrowful. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">But I don't think it's worth talking about her personal life, aside from this one statement: Mary Wollstonecraft was <i>unshaken</i>. She didn't care about what people said, what people wrote, or how horrific people may assume her ideas to be. Instead she <b>FOUGHT</b>. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><i> A Vindication on the Rights of Woman</i> is generally recognised as one of the first pieces of feminist philosophy, making Wollstonecraft fondly named as the first feminist. Wollstonecraft argued that women were not naturally unequal to men; that the difference in education allowed men to be raised above women. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Wollstonecraft hated the idea of women being raised to be whimsical, and to rely on their beauty to progress and achieve: </span><br />
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">“My own sex, I hope, will excuse me, if I treat them like rational creatures, instead of flattering their </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">fascinating</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"> graces, and viewing them as if they were in a state of perpetual childhood, unable to stand alone.” </span></i></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Personally, I love this- I think it's still a valuable lesson to learn today. That's what is so amazing about <i>A Vindication on the Rights of Woman. </i>I read it, realising how much of it I take for granted today- going to school. Identifying as a geek. Using knowledge. Being buried in books- in proper books. Mary Wollstonecraft kickstarted the route to getting us these things. We have a lot to thank Mary for- for teaching us to stand up and be a bonkers is the best thing to do. To love our education- to cherish it, to savour it. To not rely on men identifying the pretty, the not so pretty, and ranking us thus. <i><b>NOT OKAY.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><i><b> </b></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"> Working at the People's History Museum, I'm surrounded by ideas worth fighting for. But this portrait of Mary really stand out. She's still so relevant today- hence why the awesome graffiti artist Stewy (who also did a cracking design of the </span><a href="http://theyworeyesterday.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/reader-i-loved-them-trip-to-haworth.html" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">Bronte sisters</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">!) </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">recently immortalised her on the side of her old home at Newington Heath- AND at the People's History Museum. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portrait of Mary in the galleries of the People's History Museum, Manchester</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(c) Stewy<br /><div style="text-align: justify;">
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We recently supported the #GetMary campaign, which aims to get Mary Wollstonecraft sponsored by the general public to become a Radical Hero. All donations go to upkeep of the museum's collections and galleries.</div>
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It is more important than ever to keep the stories of people like Mary Wollstonecraft alive. I leave you with this: </div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><i>'Make them free, and they will quickly become wise and virtous, as men become more so; for the improvement must be mutual, or the injustice which one half of the human race are obliged to submit to, retorting on their oppressors, the virtue of men will be worm-eaten by the insect whom he keeps under his feet.'</i></span></div>
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<br />We at Vintage Twins HQ implore you to have a look at the #GetMary campaign. Full of passion, spirit and fight. Just like Mary. </div>
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<a href="http://www.crowdfunder.co.uk/getmary"> http://www.crowdfunder.co.uk/getmary</a></div>
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<a href="http://stewystencils.tumblr.com/">http://stewystencils.tumblr.com/</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.phm.org.uk/news/phm-launches-join-the-radicals-crowdfunding-campaign-getmary/">http://www.phm.org.uk/news/phm-launches-join-the-radicals-crowdfunding-campaign-getmary/</a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">We'll back soon with the start of the Vintage Twins Book Club! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">xx </span></div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-59625615404259423902015-06-24T14:19:00.001-07:002015-06-24T14:31:33.413-07:00Reader, I loved them: A trip to Haworth<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" height="332" src="https://www.bronte.org.uk/_assets/media/media/890_large.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Photo from the Bronte Parsonage Museum website</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell. Strange, dusty forenames combined with a rather simple surname, that wouldn't mean anything to us today. Which, well, is a testament to what the writers behind these names achieved. There are very literally three great women behind these names- Charlotte, Emily, and Anne Brontë. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I do not doubt that everybody knows exactly who these sisters are, and the great pieces of literature that they between them achieved. Amongst their many books, poems, essays and publications come the most famous pieces- Charlotte's <i>Jane Eyre</i>, Emily's <i>Wuthering Heights</i>, and Anne's <i>The Tenant of Wildfell Hall. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i>The sisters lived with their father in the Parsonage at Haworth, Yorkshire, up on the moors in a small town. It was far from idyllic. The death rate was abnormally high; the graveyard that the parsonage overlooked was overflowing with flat gravestones and the social class was low. It is easy to imagine them, wandering through the small corridors of the parsonage, looking out onto the gloomy moors, past the graves, and thinking up the stories that would one day end up on my bookshelves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i>The Reverend Patrick Brontë outlived all of his children. Emily and Branwell died within weeks of each other at the young ages of 30 and 31; Anne died the following May, and Charlotte, tragically, only a year into her marriage and pregnant, at the age of 38.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> In their short lives, these women created pieces of fiction that shocked and enthralled their contempories, with honest, violent, dark and passionate scenes; with women becoming heroines through their own acts of courage, and strength. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i> Jane Eyre</i> changed my life, <i>Wuthering Heights</i> changed my heart, and The <i>Tenant of Wildfell Hall </i>changed my head. I'm confident that there are many woman, and folk alike reading this who are strongly agreeing out loud, in between swigs of tea (Readers, I imagine you all drink tea whilst reading our blog). I mean...JANE EYRE. She's sassy, right? But she's resilient. She's stalwart. Nothing flutters about Jane Eyre- no pale hand flies to the forehead. She goes through agony but comes out, strong, alone. Like she says- oh, there are so many lines from this book I could quote, lines I have muttered to myself, brows furrowed when I need to believe it-</span><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.” </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Or,</span><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">“I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself.” </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i> Wuthering Heights </i>taught me another great lesson. From Jane, I knew that to be independent, to be strong, to be equal to another was important. Wuthering Heights taught me to love- love with passion, with strength, and without fear. Obviously, it didn't turn out great for Cathy and Heathcliff. But every turn of the page, the idea grew in my mind- to be loved like that. To love in such a way! How Emily put herself in the place of the two lovers, how she wrote their agony, their power, their hold over each makes me wonder. It is both terrible and great. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> <i>The Tenant of Wildfell Hall </i>was the most recent of the trio that I read, and I cannot advise people more to read it, to read it and to be amazed at how powerful the feminist messages are, how tragic the severe lack of women's rights were, and how brave Anne was to tackle them at a time when they were not to be tackled. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall avoids the wild darkness of Wuthering Heights and Jane Eyre. Anne, I would argue, is the most intellectual of the three- her pen seems steadier, more eloquent, and, in a way, bolder in what she addresses. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Ok- the reviews are over.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sorry! I get carried away when talking about the Brontës. Anyway, the whole point of the blog is...I went to their old home in Haworth! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLCfHIT5tjE8L9DPHeAt_STCjsamqn2xHLf2TIa9fOJX3DLwzXGSxvu3P_ke9eoGfpMHMJxqQ4GmM-CMjLyD9k4-t6awzKexTZr6OJAnRNGEeNraWMLuhsVpFZ82WLtgZWf-w1gLITo1E/s1600/Haworth2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLCfHIT5tjE8L9DPHeAt_STCjsamqn2xHLf2TIa9fOJX3DLwzXGSxvu3P_ke9eoGfpMHMJxqQ4GmM-CMjLyD9k4-t6awzKexTZr6OJAnRNGEeNraWMLuhsVpFZ82WLtgZWf-w1gLITo1E/s400/Haworth2.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> This was my view from the top of the main street. Catherine, the Vintage Twins resident photographing wizard, didn't accompany on this trip, so we didn't get many photos, and photography is banned within the Parsonage itself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> The<i> </i>first thing we did on arrival was head to the Parsonage Museum. I got attacked by a cat on the walk up there, as I lingered by the graveyard, taking in my first glimpse of the house. Inside, I got momentarily distracted by the lure of the shop, before heading inside. If you remember our blog on <a href="http://theyworeyesterday.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/gaskells-house-manchesters-hidden-gem.html">Elizabeth Gaskell's House</a>, you'll remember how we adored how they had recreated Gaskell's world, even down to the wallpaper that covered the walls. The Parsonage museum did exactly the same- there were moments when I was so engrossed with the house, the objects, the room in which all their books were written (a diagram from Emily's journal tells us this!) and the sofa on which Emily died, I half expected to turn a corner and seen a sister there, or to feel the brush of a petticoat as I swept past one on the stairs. My poor boyfriend had to put up with me constantly delighting over every object, reading every letter twice, and doubling back through displays to check I hadn't missed anything. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The museum assistants brought everything to life, and I learnt more about my heroines than I ever have before. From toy soldier battles, to little books, to language lessons, love lessons, paintings, poems, privileges, sermons, sewing, travels, teachings, handmade bonnets, perfectly preserved petticoats...Reader, I fell in love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> What I loved so much is that...well, it all happened in that house. They left, but they came back. They lived a little, but where they truly lived was in their own wild creativities, within their close companionship...and they created something lasting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Please visit <a href="https://www.bronte.org.uk/">https://www.bronte.org.uk/</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">to find out more about the Parsonage Museum...and the wonderful Bronte Society!</span><br />
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-68072302274413150332015-05-28T13:54:00.000-07:002015-05-28T13:54:01.076-07:00A Venture Across The Pennines<div class="MsoNormal">
The red rose. The white rose. Symbols of sparring houses,
and therefore counties for hundreds of years. I am, of course, talking about
Yorkshire and Lancashire, and the Houses of York and Lancaster. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Of course, this has no real relevance to this blog post.
Aside from the fact two Lancashire women (if you want to be fussy about the
Greater Manchester/Lancashire county debate, then please keep it to yourself,
for the sake of the post…) crossing the Pennines to the distant land of
Yorkshire. <o:p></o:p></div>
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However, if we want to get particularly historical and a
little bit know it all, then we could examine some of Elizabeth I’s portraits,
her focus on the pink Tudor rose, celebrating the union of the two houses, and
there you have it! A redheaded woman bringing together Lancashire and York. <o:p></o:p></div>
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With my slightly tenuous link to history, the Tudors,
awesome redheaded women in place, I’d like to move away from all that and
shamelessly brag about a beautiful weekend in Yorkshire.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I mean, come on…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sandwiched between the Yorkshire Dales and the Yorkshire
Moors, Northallerton really is the prettiest of places, and a dream for anyone
who enjoys pretty towns, pretty tearooms, and even prettier scenery. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Our first stop had to be the legendary Betty’s. Founded in
1919 by Swiss baker Frederick Belmont, with the original tearoom still standing in
Harrogate, Betty’s has to be one of those British treasures that will hopefully
be standing in another hundred years. It’s classic, not at all showy, offers excellent
food, wonderful service, with an atmosphere that you could only find in a
tradition English tearoom. I love the mystery behind the name to, we don’t know
to this day who Betty is – although there are several theories! <o:p></o:p></div>
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We had to have the traditional Fat Rascal – a delicacy I
have tried and failed to make myself, and have come to the conclusion that it
must be a Yorkshire thing. Well done, Yorkshire, be proud.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I had to bring my camera along, and for all those who love
the Great British scenery, get yourself to North Yorkshire, because it’s stunning.
From beautiful wisteria filled villages, cosy pubs, epic landscapes, and sunset
covered fields, it’s a photographer’s dream. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Our second day in this wonderful part of the world took us
to Harrogate, a gem of a town. Here we visited the breath-taking Harrogate
Turkish Baths. Now, I obviously couldn’t take my camera into the spa, so I have taken some photos from the website and posted the link below, because
this place is worth checking out. It makes a lovely day out.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<img alt="Plunge Pool" height="200" src="http://www.turkishbathsharrogate.co.uk/Gallery%20Images/TurkishBathsHarrogate-109.jpg" width="150" /> <img alt="Relaxation Lounge" height="200" src="http://www.turkishbathsharrogate.co.uk/Gallery%20Images/TurkishBathsHarrogate-082.jpg" width="150" /> <img alt="Relaxation Lounge" height="200" src="http://www.turkishbathsharrogate.co.uk/Gallery%20Images/TurkishBathsHarrogate-077.jpg" width="150" /></div>
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<a href="http://www.turkishbathsharrogate.co.uk/Pages/gallery.aspx">http://www.turkishbathsharrogate.co.uk/Pages/gallery.aspx</a></div>
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We took a dip in the plunge pool, visited the steam room,
and the relaxation chambers, but what is so special about this place is it’s
stunning architecture, it truly feels as though nothing has changed from it’s
opening in 1897. The Moorish interiors, mosaic floors, and painted ceilings
make it a wonderfully unique place. We spent two hours there and it felt like a
whole day, we tumbled out into a blustery Harrogate feeling relaxed, refreshed,
and totally rejuvenated! </div>
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Must be something in the water.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So get thee to Yorkshire. You won't regret it.</div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-59797664491906805622015-03-28T05:08:00.000-07:002015-03-28T05:08:12.522-07:00The Vintage Twins Abroad...Two years ago, we made a promise with our long-time best friend that we would take a birthday city break together. Over time, the trip evolved from visiting Devon, "taking the waters" (there is no other acceptable way to say it) in Bath, to a European adventure. We had all spent various parts of last summer travelling around Italy and Spain, so we decided that, in the month before our respective birthdays two years on, we would take our trip. It didn't take us long to settle on a city; Amsterdam seemed to have it all.<br />
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From walking along the canals, to eating waffles every morning, to visiting the Rijksmuseum, Anne Frank's House, the Van Gogh Museum, Old Church, New Church, the Stadhuis (Royal Palace), and the Church in the Attic in four days, you can imagine we jam packed our trip with history- something Amsterdam is really not short of.<br />
Here are just a few of our favourite shots from the adventure!<br />
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-71008898363217041962015-03-04T16:04:00.000-08:002015-03-04T16:04:13.276-08:00Lessons From Juliet<i><span style="font-size: large;">My Dearest Helen, </span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"> Thank you so much for sharing your story with me...</span></i><br />
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Readers - this will be a late-night ramble, be warned. The title probably suggests that this might be an emotional lesson in love, and in romance, but in truth, I don't know much about either of those. I don't know whether anybody knows much about those things. </div>
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What I do, humbly, know a thing or two about is history. I can reel off facts about the past that people may or may not want to hear- I can remember the dates of battles, coronations, when Kings died and Queens reigned. </div>
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But I don't pretend to know much about matters of the heart. </div>
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I know an awful lot about the Sweet Swan of Avon, where this all started. Between the two of us, Catherine and I could recite most of the plays and several sonnets by Master Shakespeare- in fact, Catherine is a Shakespearologist and is the North's answer to Stanley Wells. And I thought I knew enough about his most famous play, the tragic<i> Romeo and Juliet</i>, to know that it isn't really about love. It's a melancholy state of affairs, in which two blissfully naive teenagers are victims of political violence and die within three days of knowing each other. </div>
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Not going to lie. I never had much time for this play. But Juliet...well, Juliet was the saving grace. She was wised up to Romeo's bold declarations and pinned him down swiftly before he could run off to his next Rosaline, she was the one who sorted out- and carried through rather efficiently- their escape route- whilst Romeo ballsed it all up by killing her cousin and <i>not bloody listening</i>. </div>
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And then something changed. Last summer, in a whirlwind month doing a <a href="http://theyworeyesterday.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/la-dolce-vita.html">Grand Tour of Italy</a>, we came to Verona. Juliet's balcony. La Casa Di Giulietta. </div>
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You cannot possibly go to Verona and avoid this house. The exquisite little city is dotted with sign posts and memorabilia, hoards of tourists hustle you along their path, down the tiny cobbled side street and past scores of graffiti, names and hearts and declarations, before you reach the 14th Century house. </div>
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It was there that I sat down and wrote a letter to Juliet. The Club Di Giulietta, a group of local volunteers who reply to thousands of letters sent to Juliet every year, baffled me at the time. Call me cynical but I couldn't understand what it was about Juliet that was causing such a fuss. Why was I confiding my deepest emotional turmoil to a fourteen year old girl? Yes, Shakespeare gave her and Romeo some rather wonderful lines- they speak in sonnets- and yes, there never was story of more woe...but I didn't understand it. </div>
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Today, I finally think I understand. </div>
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Waiting for me when I got home was a letter. A handwritten, two page letter. From Juliet herself. </div>
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Sitting in floods of tears reading this powerful, eloquent letter, I realised something.<br />
I bloody underestimated Shakespeare.<br />
Juliet isn't just a fourteen year old girl. She's a fourteen year old girl that every single person who has experienced the ups and downs of love can relate to. She's the person who says: been there, done that. Here's what you've got to do. Here's how you handle it. It's okay, honestly. And the best part is- she isn't real. She doesn't exist. Everything you put in that letter is like screaming out in a deserted wood. You let everything out, nobody has to hear what you think is stupid, embarrassing, and heartbreaking.<br />
I sat and wrote that letter because, I realise, I desperately wanted somebody to write back and tell me what to do. I said I don't know much about love- I don't. I thought I was in love once. And Juliet's reply...well, let's just say it helped.<br />
Juliet isn't a heroine in Romeo and Juliet. But what she has inspired in the Casa Di Giulietta is rather spectacular. Romatical cynics, say what you like. y. They let no deserted scream go unnoticed.<br />
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Thank you, Shakespeare.<br />
And thank you to whoever was the Juliet behind my letter.<br />
It will be treasured.Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-17415410890080161122015-02-16T03:23:00.001-08:002015-02-16T03:24:33.859-08:00Heretic, Harlot, or Heroine? Me & Anne Boleyn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wolf Hall. If you haven't seen it, you will have heard about it. Here at The Vintage Twins HQ, our Wednesday night revolves around BBC2, 9pm, and the National Trust's Wolf Hall Bingo. <i>"Methinks I hear a lute! Bingo!"</i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(c) The National Trust 2015</td></tr>
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The deliciously rich, historically charged, exhilarating novel series by Hilary Mantel-<i> Wolf Hall, Bring Up The Bodies </i>and the third installment due out this year- revolve around the life of Thomas Cromwell, Henry VIII's chief minister from 1532 until his untimely execution in 1540. I could write at least ten more posts on how exquisitely Mantel captures the wiley, ambitious, intelligent Cromwell in such a realistic and potent manner, but I don't want to talk about Cromwell. Right now, with the BBC airing their equally brilliant adaptation of Wolf Hall (hats of to you, Mark Rylance), everybody is talking about Thomas Cromwell. </div>
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I want to talk about the woman who started it all, and my long, turbulent relationship with her.<br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">My relationship with Anne Boleyn started at, I would imagine, the age of seven.</span><i style="text-align: justify;"> Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded survived; </i><span style="text-align: justify;">we all learnt it, we all heard it, we were all gleefully presented with a gruesome idea that a big fat king had his wife's head chopped clean off. Then there was the constant re-reading of Terry Deary's </span><i style="text-align: justify;">Cruel Kings and Mean Queens,</i><span style="text-align: justify;"> lingering over the stories of her vomiting behind a sheet at a banquet due to her pregnancy, and laughing at the literal 'Greensleeves' joke that followed.</span></div>
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As a child, the Tudor world was a rich story that I obsessed over learning more about. By the age of ten, we both devoured every book we could get our hands on about the flame-haired royals, getting lost in a world of stays and damask dresses. The books and the stories that I read about or saw in museums were not much better at shining some light on Anne Boleyn. She was a witch. She had six fingers, swarthy skin, and an ugly face. She killed a bishop. She might have killed her former Queen.<br />
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To me, she wasn't real; she was the villain in a story that had resulted in her death, a death that, I was sure, she deserved. I hated Anne Boleyn. I hated the thought that Catherine of Aragon had died because of her. I hated her because she made Princess Mary work as a servant. In these many, many books I read about the Tudor dynasty, Anne was spiteful, ambitious, and terrifying. She was the enemy to the good, shining light of the Tudors. </div>
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I hate to say it, but Jane Seymour, dull as she was, was more of a hero in my eyes. <i>Jane Seymour.</i><br />
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A few years later, when I was about ten or eleven and hopelessly obsessed with anything remotely historical, I read the below book. It is now completely battered, with the pages curled, possibly from being thrown in bags or carted around on every half-term venture and summer holiday that we went on. Both me and Catherine were obsessed with this book, and I'm pretty sure that we nicked it from our older sister in the first place.<br />
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Margaret Simpson, I owe you one. Because my discovery of Elizabeth I, and my subsequent adoration of her, led me to a change of heart about her mother, Anne Boleyn. If Anne Boleyn had lost early on to Catherine, the good Catholic girl you'd take home to your parents, then Elizabeth would never have happened. England's history would have been entirely different, and my all time heroine would not have been the great, glorious woman that she was.<br />
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Elizabeth famously never spoke about Anne, but in her possessions kept the famous 'B' necklace that Anne wears in the portrait of her that hangs in Hever Castle. Elizabeth was Tudor, yes, but she was also Boleyn- and the legacy of her mother was something that I think shaped Elizabeth to be the Queen she was.<br />
Anne Boleyn was no witch. She was an intelligent, witty, ambitious woman who changed the game for women at a time when they were to be meek and submissive. The villain of the piece is the tyrant who saw wives and women as disposable. Anne wasn't held back by her gender in her quest to secure power and authority. She was not the 'goggled-eyed whore', the evil, dark woman who wickedly led a golden prince astray. Right up until the end, she maintained her innocence, she fought for her life, and she remained courageous in the face of her orchestrated downfall.<br />
Wolf Hall is the first piece of historical fiction that portrays Anne not as a saint, not as a sorceress, but as an immensely brave and clever woman.<br />
Anne Boleyn was a woman who all women should stop and think twice about.<br />
As you can see below,<br />
I certainly have.<br />
<i> Bow down to the Queen B.</i><br />
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Please see Hilary Mantel's great article about Anne from the Guardian here: <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/books/2012/may/11/hilary-mantel-on-anne-boleyn">http://www.theguardian.com/books/2012/may/11/hilary-mantel-on-anne-boleyn</a><br />
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-65098620462445664292015-02-07T11:01:00.003-08:002015-02-07T11:19:27.159-08:00Shakespeare & Charlecote: A Match Made in Heaven<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, Tahoma;">"There was a star danced, and under that was I born." - <i>Love's Labours Won</i></span></div>
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This post is about four months late. I’ve been meaning to write it day
after day, week after week, sorting through the photos, thinking of what I
could write. Then I completely forgot, and put it on to-do list that only ever
seems to lengthen. That was until I saw on my calendar, under 11<sup>th</sup>
February, ‘LOVE’S LABOUR’S LOST CINEMA’, scrawled in black marker pen, and I
thought to myself, today’s the day I write about Charlecote Park, Stratford-Upon-Avon,
and my love of Shakespeare.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;">You know all
about The Vintage Twins’ love for the National Trust, and when I found out last
year they had teamed up with the Royal Shakespeare Company for me it was a
match made in heaven. My love affair
with Shakespeare started years ago, when I was presented with Charles and Mary
Lamb’s ‘Tales From Shakespeare’. I was hooked. One English Literature degree, a dissertation on Shakespeare's history plays, and an RSC Key Card later, I'm here to tell you about two wonderful plays.</span><br />
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Back in October
(where did those four months go?) I went down to Stratford-Upon-Avon to see <i>Love’s Labour’s Lost</i> and<i>
Love’s Labour’s Won</i> (Much Ado About Nothing). Director Christopher Luscombe is
nothing short of a genius, setting these two romantic comedies either side of
the First World War. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And the RSC is
now bringing these wonderful plays to you, or at least, to a cinema near you on
the 11<sup>th</sup> February and 4<sup>th</sup> March!<o:p></o:p></div>
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But here’s the twist,
local National Trust house Charlecote Park makes a wonderful cameo. The inspired set replicates rooms from the
house. Tiny details, such as the carved fireplace, are noted, making the
audience feel as though they have been transported to 1914. The WWI
connotations are so important and significant, from the solemn ending of <i>Love’s
Labour’s Lost</i>, a scene which made me cry. The celebratory, carefree mood of
<i>Love’s Labour’s Won</i> is also scattered with hints to the horrors of the war. <o:p></o:p><br />
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The two, quite frankly, hilarious plays are absolutely wonderful. From the incredible sets, to the sumptuous costumes, the music, and most importantly the talented cast, it’s a gorgeous experience. Check out the amazing leads Michelle Terry and Edward Bennett, who are so very likeable and funny.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Obviously a trip
to Charlecote Park was sandwiched between the two plays. There are links to
Shakespeare’s own past, rumour has it the playwright was caught poaching there.
With deer roaming round the magnificent park, you can well believe it. Not to
mention the Folio which you can see in the library. The house still feels
alive, with cooking demonstrations in the kitchen, a tour round the stables and
a working farm (check out the adorable pigs!). The house is one of my favourite National Trust properties, with it's friendly staff, beautiful grounds, and rich tapestry of history threaded throughout the interior. It is well worth a visit! <o:p></o:p></div>
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So for an
evening filled with wit, humour, love, loss, and a beautiful stately home, go
and see <i>Love’s Labour’s Lost </i>and <i>Love’s Labour’s Won</i>. You won’t regret it. <o:p></o:p></div>
Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-54623567423935078652015-01-24T04:54:00.001-08:002015-01-26T02:34:33.653-08:00Gaskell's House: Manchester's Hidden Gem <i>Helen ventured out in the snow to uncover the secrets of 84 Plymouth Grove...</i><br />
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84 Plymouth Grove sounds very unassuming. Not quite as grand a title as Chatsworth, Nostell Priory, or any of the other heritage houses we've written about here on <i>What They Wore Yesterday.</i> But there is something special, something different about 84 Plymouth Grove. It was not graced by dukes and duchesses or by royalty, but by some of the most talented and famous writers and thinkers of the Victorian era.<br />
Finding hidden gems is always great- whether its picking up a pair of vintage trousers for 50p at a car boot sale, or stumbling onto a heritage site as amazing as 84 Plymouth Grove. What makes it even better is when it's slap bang on your doorstep. <br />
So, welcome to 84 Plymouth Grove, seated at the heart of Manchester and once home to the sensational Elizabeth Gaskell!<br />
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She wrote the truth about the poor, the north/south divide, and the struggles of women, and what's more, she did it at a time when her husband was a junior minister, and had half of his congregation raving about the inappropriate writings of his wife. She had her own bank account and wasn't afraid to travel alone. She educated her daughters and encouraged them to live their own lives. She opened up this house, which she was so proud of, to artists and writers- Charles Dickens and Charlotte Bronte were amongst the visitors. </div>
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Her novels were visionary and she was a woman ahead of her time. (<i>She also created the role of John Thornton in North & South, and anybody who has seen Richard Armitage take on the role knows how swoon-worthy he is. Cheers Elizabeth!</i>) So stepping into her house was an incredible experience- mainly because the whole house is reconstructed so that you can sit, stand, walk, look, wherever she would.</div>
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The fires look so real you almost want to reach out and warm your hands, and me and my friends Clare and Liz had to double check whether the cakes on display were edible...</div>
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It really is a remarkable place. There are no ropes, no rooms off limits- you can breathe in how they lived through the rooms on display, and see what they wore through the amazing wedding veil exhibition in the living room. </div>
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My favourite room was William Gaskell's study, where I sat to write my own sermon- mainly preaching the wonders of his wife- at his writing desk. The maps on the wall gave an impression of what Manchester was like at the time, and it really is amazing how different the city where I wander every day was. Elizabeth and I saw very different sights when we looked out of the same window. </div>
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Of course, when do either of the What They Wore Yesterday ladies visit a heritage house without heading straight to the tea room? Look how delightful and delicate the china is! Tasty cakes and all sampled in the heart of every house- the kitchen. </div>
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Please, please, fellow northerners- go and support this little house, that is bursting at the seams with the stories of a woman who told some of the most important stories of her time. The volunteers are kind, helpful, and friendly, and from the first step over the front door, you feel at home with Elizabeth herself. </div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-47885832013365432092014-11-25T14:36:00.004-08:002014-11-25T14:36:52.958-08:00Becoming Ellen: A 'What They Wore Yesterday' Heroine <div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>"Ellen Wilkinson, I am told, has red hair. But this, my chivalry takes for granted, is not her fault. Neither is it her fault that she was educated in Manchester. Manchester can happen to anybody."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Ellen Wilkinson and I have a lot in common. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">History is at the root of these stories we tell. Stories about the National Trust, the 1950s New Look, and the nostalgic wandering through tiny Devon villages in 1930s dresses.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> So, it might come as a bit of a surprise that our latest <i>What They Wore Yesterday</i> muse is somebody who has sort of been forgotten by history. I say sort of- her name is etched on buildings, printed occasionally in text books. If I'm honest, I didn't know her story until my recent stint of being buried in the archives of the People's History Museum, where four boxes hold everything you could want to know about her- almost. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Her name was Ellen Wilkinson, a formidable, fire-haired, 4ft10 northern politician, famous for walking the Jarrow March in 1936 alongside her impoverished constituents, and for taking on the political world at a time when women were still supposed to be staying in the kitchen. <i>Oh, and she started out as a student suffragette. Brilliant. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> In all the newspaper cuttings that were written about "the spinster of Westminster", at least a third of them were written about the vibrant colours she wore, or how she was doing her hair. She loved wearing bright things- she said it was to counteract the dull colours of her working-class childhood. One journalist even described her as the "best dressed lady in parliament". Great reading for the thirties fashion fan side of me- not so great for the feminist in me, roaring to be heard. <i>Does it really matter what she wore?</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She may not have always followed her head- sometimes she downright followed her heart- but what isn't refreshing about that? One of the best things about her was her energy, and her passion, and her determination. She was different at a time when women weren't supposed to be different, but she didn't care. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I believe that Ellen was so aware of her fashion tastes being publicised, she used it to add to her distinctiveness, and to gain more attention for her politics. She gave them what they wanted, but played them at their own game. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This blog documents what people did- and wore- in the past, and how we can bring it into modern day. Most of the time, remembering what they wore isn't as important as remembering what they did, but here, wearing Ellen's signature green, I hope I do her some justice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> There's one red-headed fire-brand in Manchester yet. </span></div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-9753340674686771172014-10-13T02:07:00.000-07:002014-10-13T02:07:41.031-07:00A Country House At War: Dunham Massey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">As
far as National Trust houses go, Dunham Massey in Cheshire has long been a favourite
of ours. As a young child, of course, you don’t take note of the family
history, you don't linger enough on the gilt framed paintings, or the priceless
silver collection. No, you run around the extensive grounds, wonder at the
deer, climb on trees, and finally sit, satisfied, in the cobbled courtyard,
with an ice cream. This is, of course, exactly what 9 year olds should be
interested in, and I’m not disputing that for one minute. What I would say,
however, is that had we been nine years old during the centenary, on a visit to
Dunham Massey, we would have stopped, looked up, past the paintings and the
ornaments, and paid attention.</span></span></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">That
is because Dunham Massey has transformed itself for the centenary, swapping
silver candlesticks for bedpans, drinks in the drawing room to rolling
bandages, and grand bedrooms for iron framed dormitories. In its place is
Stamford Military hospital, which took in 282 soldiers between April 1917 and January
1919. </span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Nurses
making beds and soldiers hobbling around on crutches bring the exhibition to
life, not least with their impromptu conversations about matron, or life at the
front. Personal touches added to each bedside table, real stories about real
men also bring home the truly devastating effect WWI had. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> We
didn’t just learn about the men at the front, but about their injuries too. From
the splint, which revolutionised treatment and brought down the mortality rate
of soldiers drastically, to the effects of gas poisoning, and the horrific
truths behind shell shock. At the end of the day, what these men really needed
was rest, and a good meal.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You
also had to commend the nurses working tirelessly to help these men, their
stories were equally as interesting. These women had all the courage and the
determination of the soldiers themselves, simply fighting on a different
battlefield.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">The
most haunting moment, for us, perhaps, was the makeshift operating theatre, set
up at the bottom of the staircase, simply because it was the closest place to a
sink, and running water. This is based on a real event, a young solider with
shrapnel in his brain was operated on in this very spot, only to die later at a
Manchester hospital. As a pool of red was slowly projected onto the white
sheets, surrounded by models in surgical dress, you could do nothing but
reflect on how it had come to this. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">The
reason I mentioned our 9 year old selves is because everyone can learn from this.
I don’t think anyone will ever truly be able to comprehend the horror of the
First World War, both in the trenches or in military hospitals. What Dunham
Massey does is help us to understand that these were real men that suffered,
fathers, sons, uncles, and brothers. It is a wonderful tribute to those that
fought, but also to those men and women who worked tirelessly to bring comfort
and peace. </span></span></div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-56283134435488773242014-09-29T11:34:00.001-07:002014-09-29T11:34:25.047-07:00Autumn<br />
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We don't care what anybody says. Even if the sun is still shining, and it's technically not quite tights weather yet, Autumn has definitely arrived. There are conkers to be collected, golden leaves to kick, and the exhilarating knowledge that bonfire night and all its smoky, freezing, bright light bursting glory is just around the corner. </div>
<div style="text-align: start;">
<span style="text-align: center;"> We don't do warm jeans and winter boots. For us, Autumn is about woolly skirts, tweed jackets, tartan, and a good pair of sturdy brogues- wellies in extreme cases. These are exactly the sort of outfits we donned when we went hunting blackberries in Manchester; a tricky and troublesome task but fun nonetheless. We are happy to share with you the results of our hunt....</span></div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-56324648379114308402014-08-18T15:40:00.003-07:002014-08-18T15:40:57.158-07:00Ferguson's Gang...Introducing Miss Givings and Miss Terious<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01158/portal-graphics-20_1158444a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01158/portal-graphics-20_1158444a.jpg" height="301" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Copyright The Telegraph, 2008 </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Have you ever had a moment of discovery that totally and completely knocks you for six? Well today, I think I know how Howard Carter felt when he discovered Tutankhamun's tomb. Okay, so maybe my discovery wasn't as fantastic as that, and there was no physical labour like digging or archaeological mastery. I stumbled across my discovery when reading a book, and I feel like I've unearthed something really wonderful. </div>
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As many of you know, I (Helen) am currently writing my Masters thesis on the National Trust and lots of boring academic stuff that I find interesting and only my fellow museologists (shout out to those reading) do. However, today during my research, I came across a secret society, and some women who deserve to be commemorated and glorified by <i>What They Wore Yesterday</i>. In 1927, a group of young women, inspired by Clough William-Ellis's quest to save the countryside, took up arms as it were, and formed Ferguson's Gang. Adopting pseudonyms and elaborate disguises, the group acted as vigilantes, and through using their personal wealth and fundraising methods, they managed to raise thousands and thousands for the National Trust. Members of the group included Margaret Pollard, niece of William Gladstone and acclaimed Cambridge scholar. </div>
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Its almost impossible to find photographs of the group in action; the above photo is from a rare outing they took without their masks. From what stories I've read, I've deduced that they always operated with a melodramatic flair; masks and costumes, and wonderful noms-de-guerres; their donations were made publicly and very theatrically- imagine a bank robbery in reverse. One donation was made in the form of Victorian coins worth £100, whilst another was a bundle of notes stuffed into a cigar.<br />
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The most important thing about these women, aside from their ballsy fabulousness, was their determination to preserve Britain's heritage. Aside from all the funds they raised, they bought five properties from their private wealth in order to save them. They dramatically raised the profile of the Trust, and contributed massively to what it has become today.<br />
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So, why have I fallen in love with this elusive, and rarely heard about sisterhood? Because what they did then is exactly what this blog tries to do today- preserve pieces of the past that are in danger of dying out. The best bit of it all? YOU CAN STILL JOIN FERGUSON'S GANG.<br />
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So...meet Miss Givings, and Miss Terious, and enjoy their list of their top ten National Trust houses!<br />
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1. Killerton House, Devon<br />
A roaring fire, cosy rooms, a piano to die for and the most excellent costume exhibition, this is a house we could see ourselves living in!<br />
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2. Lyme Park, Stockport<br />
The house of houses, this really ignited our passion for all things National Trust. Add a little Pride and Prejudice and you have the perfect day out.<br />
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3. Dunham Massey, Cheshire<br />
Our childhood was filled with picnics in this precious house. Roaming through the incredible grounds alongside the deer, and then losing ourselves amongst the silverware. Let's not forget the wonderful WW1 hospital to mark the centenary.<br />
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4. Nostell Priory, Wakefield<br />
A recently discovered treasure, the volunteers here are so friendly and helpful, and made our trip all the better.<br />
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5. Charlcote Park, Stratford-Upon-Avon<br />
This beauty gave Catherine both her Shakespeare AND her National Trust fix. Walk alongside the river or bask amongst priceless books.<br />
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6. Coleton Fishacre, Devon<br />
A gem tucked away on the Dartmouth coast. The home of the D'Oyly Carte family. Sumptuously art-deco, you can imagine an Agatha Christie novel being set here. The Gilbert and Sullivan ties are fascinating too.<br />
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7. Knightsbridge, Devon<br />
Fascinating ties to the industrial revolution, look at exquisite lace samples, and look out for the Pre-Raphaelite furniture!<br />
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8. Quarry Bank Mill, Manchester<br />
Another childhood gem. A world away from country homes and elegant furniture, lose yourself in the industrial revolution or even better in the wild and wonderful Styal Woods.<br />
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9. Speke Hall, Liverpool<br />
Grand, impressive,filled with creaky corridors and excitement at every corner.<br />
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10.Rufford Old Hall, Cheshire<br />
This place brings back memories of lying amongst the bluebells on a sunny day and marvelling at the beauty of this Tudor house.</div>
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If you want more info on the wonderful Ferguson's Gang, have a look at their website: </div>
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<a href="http://www.fergusonsgang.co.uk/">http://www.fergusonsgang.co.uk/</a></div>
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Or this smashing article: <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/features/3636108/Fergusons-Gang-masked-maidens-with-an-excellent-cause.html">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/features/3636108/Fergusons-Gang-masked-maidens-with-an-excellent-cause.html</a></div>
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Or even read Anna Hutton-North's wonderful book! <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Fergusons-Gang-Maidens-behind-Masks/dp/1291484531">http://www.amazon.co.uk/Fergusons-Gang-Maidens-behind-Masks/dp/1291484531</a></div>
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Sorry for the quietness recently, master's dissertations don't write themselves so we've not had time to put together many posts, but there will be some exciting ones to look forward to in the next few weeks!<br />
Lots of Vintage Love! x<br />
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-83163946718313159072014-07-28T06:34:00.001-07:002014-07-28T06:34:11.916-07:00La Dolce Vita <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We're back from our Roman Holiday, from living La Dolce Vita, and despite not bumping into Gregory Peck on the Spanish steps, or frolicking in the Trevi fountain, we had the time of our lives. Three weeks, three girls, eight cities, a lot of churches, a lot of walking, a brief jaunt to the beach, being serenaded by gondoliers and getting an unhealthy addiction to aperol spritzes. </div>
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There were highs- walking into Saint Mark's in Venice for the first time- and there were lows- travelling to Naples by sleeper train in a carriage of complete crazies. what did we bring to Italy? Apart from some poor Italian phrases, we packed up a whole host of frocks and set off on our Grand Tour. </div>
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We went even further back in time than usual when thinking about this trip. Following in the footsteps of the twenty-something men of the 18th and 19th century, we travelled around Italy and took in all the cultural greats; we travelled from Venice to Rome with several stops in between. Everybody from Lord Elgin, who, you might know, was famous for shipping the Elgin marbles from the Parthenon in Athens to London, to Byron and Keats, the latter who died in Rome aged 25. These tours, usually post university, were meant to further a young man's education. Through Italy, stops such as Venice, Rome, Florence, and Pompeii were all included on the tour. In fact, Venice was considered the cultural centre of the Grand Tour, so there was no better place to begin. </div>
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So, after that little spot of history, I bet you want to see what we wore, don't you? Well, in the blistering heat, tight, restricting outfits were just not possible. The fact that women wore corsets in these climates is completely unacceptable to me. However, what did work were 1940s blouses and loose skirts- a little like how you would imagine a middle class evacuee to dress- and of course, fifties dresses with their wide, cool skirts. However, conservative dress was a must for most places, and those long skirts were wonderful for covering knees, though cardigans were always packed to be thrown elegantly over our shoulders. I would recommend taking a selection of beautiful silk shawls, as they could be used to cover up and still keep you cool! Catherine spent her days with a classic cloche hat perched firmly on her head, a holiday essential!Though make up usually melted off, neither of us had the heart to abandon our red lipstick, so even on the hottest of days we kept resiliently topping it up. </div>
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A LOT of people stopped us and asked if we were part of Downton Abbey. One poor bloke got his eras mixed up and kept shouting: '1970!' every time he saw us (oh the shame!). One man, who looked about 300, cycled up to us and recited W.H Auden's The Truth About Love, because, according to him, such quintessential English girls deserved poetry in their lives. Italy embraced our love of vintage. Whilst we may not spend hours setting our hair and wearing fascinators "just because", it was amazing to have people from a different culture recognise the nostalgia that goes into our everyday lives and what we wear. That's all we aim to do, and boy did we do it in Italy!<br />
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Our route: Venice-Padua-Verona-Florence-Manarola-Lucca-Naples/Pompeii-Rome</div>
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When in Rome!</div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-74675685082706371832014-06-18T13:25:00.000-07:002014-06-18T13:34:02.984-07:00A Thrifty Fifties Fix, Cambridge in the Summer, and a Variety of Vintage <br />
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Dear Readers,<br />
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This week has been a whirlwind of punting down the river in Cambridge, singing Jerusalem at evensong whilst smugly putting our hymn books away (oh yes, we know all the words), reading stacks of books on trains (masters thesis? What masters thesis?) and putting our new vintage finds to the test. The weather in Cambridge was beautiful and sunny, perfect for showing off our fifties frocks. There's something about the sun coming out that always makes us bring out fifties numbers, and we've been pondering as to why this is. But there's something so wonderfully Roman Holiday about a fifties outfit; when you watch Audrey strolling around the Roman sunshine (or what we assume is the Roman sunshine, the black and white makes it hard to tell), it's hard not to want to replicate that crisp elegance. Also, because of the width of the skirts, they are really cool to wear, flattering on the figure, and not restrictive.<br />
Now, we have a little secret to share. Recently, Catherine and I picked up two beautiful fifties style dresses. Let's talk about mine first. A wide skirt, a nipped in waist and a sweetheart neckline, in a stunning pale blue gingham print; slightly Dorothy of Oz, but in the best way possible. Flattering, and surprisingly sultry, I paired my dress with some classic court shoes, a string of pearls, and my hair in my famous french rolls. With a white cardigan thrown over my shoulders, I felt vintage-vivacious! Catherine's dress was definitely, 100% Audrey Hepburn in 'A Roman Holiday'. A crisp white cotton shirt dress, it was full skirted and features some stunning lace detail and the hem and waist. The dress oozes sophistication, but there's a hint of English countryside to it also; its the sort of dress you'd want to be wearing when paddling through streams and running through meadows. Catherine also wore pearl earrings and teamed the dress with some divine navy blue sandals.<br />
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So, I hear you cry (maybe not cry, but I bet you're wondering what the secret is and I hope by now you are on the edge of your seat. Sort of.), what is the secret behind these beautiful fifties frocks? What could possibly be wrong with them? Well, nothing exactly wrong. It's just these dresses have been unearthed in a place that we never in a trillion years, as self-proclaimed vintage experts, have thought it possible. These, dresses, my friends, were from PRIMARK, at a steal for £17 each. Harking back to our <u><a href="http://www.theyworeyesterday.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/the-twenties-with-twist.html">Twenties With A Twist</a></u> post, we get so excited whenever the High Street embraces vintage clothing, because its not a cheap lifestyle; to be able to pick up dresses like this is a real perk.<br />
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We also fell in love with Cambridge. We stayed in Magdalene College with our cousin Jane, who will soon graduate with a degree in History (huzzah!) but we spent a lot of our time exploring more of the colleges. Magdalene is stunning and sits right on the river; we loved watching the punts go by and had to have a go ourselves. We must have looked the part in our dresses because a lot of tourists stopped for photos! The history behind the city is astonishing; every corner you turn, you catch your breath. From Samuel Pepys diaries to the splendor that is Kings' College chapel, there's a treat for every time travelling history lover.<br />
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Top tips: take prosecco with you when punting but do not feed the swans. They will come after you with a vengeance. Watch out for the cyclists; they are silent, but they are fast, and they will get you. Go to evensong; all the college chapels are gorgeous and there's no better place to belt out a good hymn. If there is any place in the world you can get away with looking so quintessentially British, it is in Cambridge. So embrace it! We did, and oh what a time we had.<br />
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Thank you to Grace for the photo of my gingham dress, to Jane and David for putting up with our excitable ways and being amazing hosts, and to Jemma, for agreeing to be in our photo. Vintage love to you all!<br />
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H & C </div>
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P.S An thrilling announcement! Next week we will be commencing with out 'Vintage Wishlist'. Here we review some of our favourite vintage brands and venue, places to visit, things to do, things to make, and a whole host of golden age treats! Get excited and we'll see you here next week x</div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-88310568752438528832014-06-09T12:44:00.000-07:002014-06-19T02:45:21.198-07:00Sing As We Go: A Very Wartime WeekendThis is Ramsbottom. An unassuming little town in Bury.<br />
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Last weekend, the union jack flags came out in their masses, bunting adorned the streets, Vera Lynn's We'll Meet Again floated out of every shop. Ramsbottom was transformed into a 1940's haven for their Wartime 'Sing As We Go' weekend. For us, of course, this meant a day trip on a sunny Bank Holiday Monday.<br />
Helen was detained at work for this one, so Catherine went it alone...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...Not that she minded!</td></tr>
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It feels rather fitting to write this blog post days after the anniversary of D-Day, and here I just want to take a moment to remember those who gave their lives 70years ago for our freedom. The fact that we are still celebrating wartime victory 70 years on just shows how significant D-Day was.<br />
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And the town was certainly in celebratory mode. Bunting lined the streets, the sun was shining, and for every person dressed in jeans and trainers, there were five dressed in military wear and tea dresses. What did I wear in the town that compromised of steep slopes? Well, this genius popped on a pair of these beauties.<br />
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Beautiful, yes. Practical, hmm debatable. They were very comfortable, and I imagine they are perfect for work, a trip to the theatre, a wander around a stately home (ahem, National Trust), but maybe just not for walking up steep and narrow streets, weaving in and out of crowds. That said, they are beautiful, well made shoes. These were purchased at Clarks - living up to the mantra my mother instilled in me from a young age...trustworthy shoes come from Clarks. And in these shoes I trust.<br />
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Moving on! We were treated to a brass band concert, an original air raid warning siren being used frequently throughout the day, and to a display of classic cars. My favourite was the one with the National Trust Membership plastered proudly onto the windshield.<br />
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My highlight of the day came in the form of the steam engine. Unfortunately we couldn't get tickets to actually take the train but just seeing it pull in and out of the station was enough. Here is my slightly geeky confession. I <i>love </i>steam trains. I don't know why, call me sentimental, but I think they are the most romantic things...a steam filled platform, the distant sound of a whistle and a cry of 'all aboard! - it's the beginning of an adventure.<br />
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The platform was awash with some fantastically kitted out ladies and gentlemen. My highlight was the family who arrived complete with original vintage prams. Now that is dedication. I salute you, vintage family! The joy of it all was that everyone was so happy. As the train pulled out of the station I waved my Union Jack flag, giving them a proper send off, and there wasn't a single passenger who didn't wave back, capturing the spirit of the day perfectly.<br />
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It was also a great day for a bargain. Ramsbottom is packed with fantastic charity shops and I certainly picked up a few gems. I collect coronation/jubilee crockery, from George V to Elizabeth II, and I was ecstatic to find this beautifully delicate cup (just look at the scalloped edging!) and two saucers, along with this plate, all for £10! And my mother picked up a rather gorgeous clothes brush. We also couldn't resist a bag of boiled sweets. Pear drop, anyone? <br />
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And now we come to my favourite photograph of the day. These charming chaps obliged me with a picture and it made my day.Probably my first and last time of feeling like the Forces Sweetheart!<br />
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Remember, we are now on twitter, so do follow us for more photos, anecdotes and vintage musings...<a href="https://twitter.com/VintageTwins92">https://twitter.com/VintageTwins92</a><br />
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H & C<br />
xxx<br />
<br />Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-74199814444458559452014-06-02T12:26:00.002-07:002014-06-09T10:45:49.041-07:00Pretty Nostalgic Friends and readers,<br />
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This month, we've been featured in Pretty Nostalgic, a wonderful vintage lifestyle magazine! Shelly Baker interviewed us on our vintage lifestyle and we had a smashing time getting our best glad rags on and posing for some snaps. We are over the moon about being featured and can't wait for our issues to arrive in the post- alternatively, if you want your own slice of this vintage goodness, you can pop on down to WHSmith, or order it online. 'Tis the <i>Vogue</i> of the Vintage Girl! </div>
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So, here's why we love Pretty Nostalgic. Not only is it packed with fascinating features and gorgeous things, its independent. Every issue has care and love poured into it, and that sort of thing glows on each page. If you're passionate about history and all things vintage, reading it is just like having a chin wag with somebody just as much in love with it all as you are. It's an old friend in ink, and it will continue to inspire What They Wore Yesterday. It takes us back to the make do and mend era, with their tips and tricks, and all things good for a vintage lifestyle. </div>
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We tip our cloche hats to you, Pretty Nostalgic! </div>
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Please please please have a look at the website to learn more: </div>
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<a href="http://www.prettynostalgic.co.uk/">www.prettynostalgic.co.uk</a> </div>
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In the meantime, here are one or two photos from the shoot that we did for the spread! There will also be a brand spanking new post up this week. Remember <a href="http://theyworeyesterday.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/vintage-girl-problems.html">Vintage Girl Problems</a><u>? </u>And the beautiful, handpainted, 18th Century peacock wallpaper? Well, stay tuned for Helen's giddy ramblings at finding <a href="http://theyworeyesterday.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/the-riviera.html">Riviera Trousers</a> 2.0 in an almost matching print...and then some. </div>
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Until then Vintage lovers! </div>
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H & C </div>
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x </div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-25167115061958976142014-05-18T04:33:00.000-07:002014-06-09T10:42:56.834-07:00The Twenties with a TwistA blog post with a twist today, good readers!<br />
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We're here to show you how to work a vintage look with a high street twist today. We realise that whilst some of you readers adore the vintage lifestyle, you might not find the time, or have the patience to rummage round charity shops and vintage fairs looking for those perfect pieces. It's totally understandable.<br />
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What you can do, however, is find some great copycats on the high street, which is fantastic for those one off retro parties, the 20's themed nights out, or maybe you're just dipping your toe in the vintage water and want to try something on for size. It's not everyone's cup of tea, looking like they've stepped out of the wrong era, and whatever you wear you should feel comfortable in. If you leave the house in full forties dress and feel, well, a little bit silly, then that's okay. By choosing certain pieces or styles you can still work the retro look, from a splash of red lippy to a sixties shift, or a flapper dress for the big night out.<br />
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And that's what we're here to show you today. We've chosen to emulate a look from the twenties today, because that era is HUGE at the minute (thank you Baz Luhrmann and The Great Gatsby)! It seems that we can't escape sparkles, drop waist dresses or fringed hems at the moment, so here's our easy peasy guide to getting the look.<br />
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Helen:<br />
Helen's working a dress found in the Topshop sale for £40 today. It's fantastic because the colour is perfect, a bang on trend peach colour, with the scalloped edges and embellishment that harks back to the era of the Charleston and Fitzgerald. This dress is great purely because of it's shape. If you don't have that straight up-straight down figure that was oh so popular back then, like oursleves, then this nipped in at the waist t-shirt style is not only comfortable but flattering too.<br />
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Helen's got her hair in classic rolls, which wasn't huge in 1920's - think more slicked down hair with a prominent parting, but her make up is spot on. Heavy eyeliner, creating a smoky look, and of course a slick of red lipstick. And of course it wouldn't be complete without a little bit of liquor, so bring forth the gin and whip up some fabulous cocktails to get the party started!<br />
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Catherine:</div>
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Catherine is modelling a dress from Next (£38). It’s light,
cotton material make it a summer classic. And if you’re brave enough, it can
easily be dressed down with a cardigan and some sandals, perfect for a European
city break. It's quite short, in hindsight, she may have bought a top for a tall person, but being a hobbit does have its benefits, and if you wear an under dress, it works perfectly. </div>
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As you’ll have guessed by now, Cath is lucky enough to be blessed
with natural 20’s hair, but you don’t need to spend hours teasing your hair
into finger waves, oh no! Simply head on down to Accessorize or Marks &
Spencer and pick yourself up a cloche hat. Place one of these beauties on your hear and you'll feel like Daisy Buchanan in no time. Again, a summer staple for those lucky enough to be heading off to exotic climates!<o:p></o:p></div>
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So head down to your high street and keep a sharp eye for anything that touches on that retro look. But don't become too reliant on these high street giants. Remember - one of the brilliant things about leading this lifestyle is supporting independent shops and retailers. Trust us, there's fun to be found in wandering around vintage fairs and charity shops.<br />
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-52103053167400855562014-05-08T14:07:00.000-07:002014-05-08T14:07:03.382-07:00Vintage Girl Problems <div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXaCrsxShdTEtmKbSGDLht_T204a0ooQy7J_jbgr1nE31lm-0ORN7tEJ5Nn-avL9p5yuO7RzLRD4GP8zGsMiMoQQkrjUmAmViCvG06WjcyNMioqtgQFVmUhd7a3YH5mk3ifCItnzh0D38/s1600/Volts-Ladies_on_a_terrasse-Paris-1920s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXaCrsxShdTEtmKbSGDLht_T204a0ooQy7J_jbgr1nE31lm-0ORN7tEJ5Nn-avL9p5yuO7RzLRD4GP8zGsMiMoQQkrjUmAmViCvG06WjcyNMioqtgQFVmUhd7a3YH5mk3ifCItnzh0D38/s1600/Volts-Ladies_on_a_terrasse-Paris-1920s.jpg" height="315" width="400" /></a></div>
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Visiting National Trust properties, going on days out to antique tea rooms, making jam...these are just a few of the past times of these two vintage girls. Last week we visited Nostrell Priory, a jewel of Yorkshire designed by James Paine and the remarkable Robert Adam, who also designed the beautiful Kedleston Hall near Derby.<br />
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We wore some lovely vintage dresses, bought some elderflower wine, and, awed at the incredible house. One of my favourite parts of it was the hand-painted wallpaper in the bedrooms, and, wait for it, the bathroom. That's right. The tiny bathroom, with a rather fetching bathtub, was adorned with the most exquisite, oriental, peacock decorated wallpaper. I was in love! It really was the most stunning, elegant decoration. The only problem? I wanted it. I wanted an exact replica of this antique, hand-painted wallpaper to adorn my bathroom, so that when soaking in my roll-top bath (yeah, right!) I could admire it. And pretend to be a duchess. </div>
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Thus, we arrive at the subject of this post. Coined by my friend Clare when telling her of this tragedy, the title 'Vintage Girl Problems' is rather self-explanatory. The trouble is, we do tend to live in the past a bit; we have an aversion to technology and live for a house crammed with antiques. Vintage isn't just a look: it's a lifestyle. So, we've put together a little list of our vintage girl problems- the cost of living, the woes of wanting some of the wonders of yesteryear that sadly, you can only find in a museum now.<br />
A bit like us, but to hear more about that, scroll down to Number Three...</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Vintage Girl Problems: </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">1. Finding Antiques</span> </div>
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As you probably guessed from the peacock wallpaper rant, we are both proud National Trust members. In fact, fanatics would be a more apt description. On visiting these places, we become quite sad that we can't fill our own homes with these magnificent tapestries, vases, beds, bedding, tables, chairs...basically anything of beauty. Of course, antique hunting is always fun, but the problem nowadays is good quality antique shops are SO EXPENSIVE. Dressers and wardrobes can go for thousands, and my dreams of a Victorian desk are slowly diminishing. If you're a fifties kind of lady/gent/person, then you can usually recreate a fifties house for relatively cheaply. But for us? Its tricky one. Never will we find furniture like the John Lindell chairs from Kedleston Hall (above) at our local vintage market. </div>
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However, there's always great bargain finds, like this handmade, one of a kind dresser, that is now covered in bunting and pearls. Keep your eyes peeled and you always find goodies like this, my pride and joy! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9zLGn28fh0l3xqadHzpCfPbJ3Q3Zb6LSTEBi7kA4bF_XIerNhdOOFYnv2YhOZdAkfc8y_QuLv8zyBQNBXe-50VReYCsPkp-BguCIYu944vil7q2d0zOSz3j4oNTYM01ijn8PGmPzpl38/s1600/Dresser.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9zLGn28fh0l3xqadHzpCfPbJ3Q3Zb6LSTEBi7kA4bF_XIerNhdOOFYnv2YhOZdAkfc8y_QuLv8zyBQNBXe-50VReYCsPkp-BguCIYu944vil7q2d0zOSz3j4oNTYM01ijn8PGmPzpl38/s1600/Dresser.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<u><span style="font-size: large;">2. Doing One's Hair </span></u></div>
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Here is my hair in thirties rolls. It looks, if I may say so, rather elegant.<br />
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However, here is my natural hair before I make it this visually tame:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp69PdT_jsaxUDpWT9s4am31kGM-Fxdr7aaihj1h7Wwe3RmAi9BG3UtudkNmVbNwOkBeB3GwUjXQo2-lz4tAfbdE5WYKaYAXEuYva_zbYJ6DhP-rTXWiQL5D0AUOGugeUqKnd7m7eC4_w/s1600/picture007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp69PdT_jsaxUDpWT9s4am31kGM-Fxdr7aaihj1h7Wwe3RmAi9BG3UtudkNmVbNwOkBeB3GwUjXQo2-lz4tAfbdE5WYKaYAXEuYva_zbYJ6DhP-rTXWiQL5D0AUOGugeUqKnd7m7eC4_w/s1600/picture007.jpg" height="320" width="304" /></a></div>
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My hair requires so many pins that walking through airport customs sporting victory rolls could potentially end up in an awkward encounter with a security guard. Sadly, not many ladies pre 1970 could sport their hair as free and flowing as this; therefore a lot of my prep time in the morning is taken up by pinning, curling and setting this mad mane.<br />
Annoyingly, this is Catherine's natural hair:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUhMqytUrfO0zaZdJaih8bFWETT3LWd0g7EUu88wAVKWBeguvqUsehL8-dxUvMKeiImr6EpjoaUU4ICbgrQR_LtEHPBMP2aD30lVtZH2AnyAW9TwvdgIsDLyk_bdFRgMweoCWjEFLB2s/s1600/picture044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUhMqytUrfO0zaZdJaih8bFWETT3LWd0g7EUu88wAVKWBeguvqUsehL8-dxUvMKeiImr6EpjoaUU4ICbgrQR_LtEHPBMP2aD30lVtZH2AnyAW9TwvdgIsDLyk_bdFRgMweoCWjEFLB2s/s1600/picture044.jpg" height="320" width="267" /></a></div>
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Natural fingerwaves. Curse you!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u>3.Walking Around Museums </u></span></div>
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I work in the museum sector, and we are both massive museum enthusiasts, hence the attachment to the National Trust and other various heritage sites. The thing is, when you look like us. You get stopped a lot. About 90% of my museum visits have ended in somebody, sometimes including the staff, mistaking me and Catherine for part of the exhibition. We've been stopped countless times for photographs and stunned visitors. It's fun, flattering, but if you want a quiet afternoon wandering around a heritage house, you're not going to get it. Be prepared to be approached by tourists. Here are a few photos of us where we've been stopped, mistaken for the lady of the manor and Elizabeth I...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKO0RRKlqaQa8ayGNBGj04VAUaFl1o2AnmKzWv4a05Yp78e1UgkzDwR_M1Y_hKMDgl9bYw760CmIOaCyn7MtfFrS_ptcLAZy6nSKoMR5KSeMpVZ-CYPx2JDrY7xGJVpD3DBRKVq5V848/s1600/177790_4245583983578_1984792582_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKO0RRKlqaQa8ayGNBGj04VAUaFl1o2AnmKzWv4a05Yp78e1UgkzDwR_M1Y_hKMDgl9bYw760CmIOaCyn7MtfFrS_ptcLAZy6nSKoMR5KSeMpVZ-CYPx2JDrY7xGJVpD3DBRKVq5V848/s1600/177790_4245583983578_1984792582_o.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Knightsbridge Hall, Devon</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-7Bpc_Wc0SBqe9G_xPzmdiX0PSOeDGgHl47KWa2wrV0o_xNxiG9UGDMr-W5W0EVs93bjl8MPcEwNYQhqmifObCn4DkBl8uH0KVvtLk53fk_09aA7jZ74hBZ_S8RUrrDfT6WtkQaaPNQ/s1600/Problems3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG-7Bpc_Wc0SBqe9G_xPzmdiX0PSOeDGgHl47KWa2wrV0o_xNxiG9UGDMr-W5W0EVs93bjl8MPcEwNYQhqmifObCn4DkBl8uH0KVvtLk53fk_09aA7jZ74hBZ_S8RUrrDfT6WtkQaaPNQ/s1600/Problems3.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Coleton Fishacre, Devon</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvOTgUcJxyElJYLQ5hDUN-yxiOOlrYc8CGqORFBRVMT9vyN-YucdK1NpU_Q-WKyqc8PBzqmvdVyVuRf60P1QQefZn6W22zQZSr4I-rMoYTAhEzPG-GjRZBfTTfiBkLMo1SW2-UZybpOq0/s1600/Problems5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvOTgUcJxyElJYLQ5hDUN-yxiOOlrYc8CGqORFBRVMT9vyN-YucdK1NpU_Q-WKyqc8PBzqmvdVyVuRf60P1QQefZn6W22zQZSr4I-rMoYTAhEzPG-GjRZBfTTfiBkLMo1SW2-UZybpOq0/s1600/Problems5.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Lyme Park, Stockport</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2PVQhi_A4OFBROZU0x9Y_GfEhpPzIIm3qqWfNSHkkqroUeWHSen6utyppg7lz8nXforr4weIjgv5BKuGauQ-sikKRrsFVc8tgimN-3c9vSWoeszYUjIBofFcAYEbHB1-qSjA3tPsMTIc/s1600/Problems6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2PVQhi_A4OFBROZU0x9Y_GfEhpPzIIm3qqWfNSHkkqroUeWHSen6utyppg7lz8nXforr4weIjgv5BKuGauQ-sikKRrsFVc8tgimN-3c9vSWoeszYUjIBofFcAYEbHB1-qSjA3tPsMTIc/s1600/Problems6.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And some Tudor fun at Ordsall Hall, Salford! </td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u>4. Looking Like a Housewife</u></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpb73H6gxu1qCRjOkvCGiYi_Kxni2_q1oVdVc0JyahaVklgDw0lfRUF_kCOPepnIlEKZpKKun77ztkPfC6-RJ8GBxt4lx8RSkOjEiHNet2DhavuF4Rttis-wbKtOOdKo0XcP5eKxaCG0c/s1600/DSC_0927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpb73H6gxu1qCRjOkvCGiYi_Kxni2_q1oVdVc0JyahaVklgDw0lfRUF_kCOPepnIlEKZpKKun77ztkPfC6-RJ8GBxt4lx8RSkOjEiHNet2DhavuF4Rttis-wbKtOOdKo0XcP5eKxaCG0c/s1600/DSC_0927.JPG" height="400" width="222" /></a></u></span></div>
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We're both, as everybody should be in this day and age, feminist. Give us equality. As history fans, we've both studied the struggles of women through the years and the fight for equality. So we don't quite appreciate being referred to as 'housewives' 'trophy wives' and 'domesticated' just for wearing vintage clothes and enjoying baking. Listen up- we've got degrees. We're smart. We work. We write. We don't just look quirky and bake cakes. Stop calling us housewives. That's not us.<br />
And if I'm going to bake, I'll be doing it in this smashing apron.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbvvlK06jdeVHpowz6MXOXvSZyLj894zV-tGovbdDzvddMjedSS_o1M4lJHXYu9hPmfx5litxX0Vy092xjMWpgMoZGdBob2ouldR4dz4XPhfwqwCScbbv5tGuA_oeeGMeXJAFwfboAGs/s1600/Problems2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWbvvlK06jdeVHpowz6MXOXvSZyLj894zV-tGovbdDzvddMjedSS_o1M4lJHXYu9hPmfx5litxX0Vy092xjMWpgMoZGdBob2ouldR4dz4XPhfwqwCScbbv5tGuA_oeeGMeXJAFwfboAGs/s1600/Problems2.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Anyway...this is a very grumpy blog post. You may well say- so why do you do it? Because at the end of the day, these things aren't that annoying. They make the whole thing hilarious, and that's what living the vintage lifestyle is all about...so hand me the pins and lead me to the National Trust house. There's no stopping us yet!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjihpBeFD3S1qbn6bNmCl-Z9gU0PKp-BeEgtgqllF6G4JTF-nb6yb14xW9NPz9pTID4YTdV7K3ycaIyTFv3Vrqgj2wEE4xJfaNo-RmGaRJQhrYKYv_x9gNghbLFDmHBYe9R9XdNC5-Eb4U/s1600/IMG_7872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjihpBeFD3S1qbn6bNmCl-Z9gU0PKp-BeEgtgqllF6G4JTF-nb6yb14xW9NPz9pTID4YTdV7K3ycaIyTFv3Vrqgj2wEE4xJfaNo-RmGaRJQhrYKYv_x9gNghbLFDmHBYe9R9XdNC5-Eb4U/s1600/IMG_7872.JPG" height="203" width="400" /></a></div>
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Have any vintage girl problems? Share them with us! </div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-16383347711538466872014-04-17T15:34:00.000-07:002014-04-18T02:21:39.506-07:00Sweet Dreams<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Good evening, readers! Firstly, thank you to everybody who has been following our blog. It's been so much fun to do and we've got some great posts planned for you. Tonight's post is not related to the sunny weather- no picnics or cycle rides on bikes with baskets, or Marilyn Monroe moments in the summer (ish) breeze. Oh no. That would be a wee bit predictable. Instead, we're going to reveal our true colours and show you that we have grouchy pyjama days just as much as we do frivolous floral frocked ones. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But we couldn't show you that. One, it would be cruel. And not in the least bit interesting. So we decided to do pyjama day vintage style! In this post, we've taken inspiration from Ginger Rogers in Top Hat, and are going to look at what women wore to bed in the thirties. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Women have a history of dressing up for bed. Anne Boleyn was famously bought a black satin and velvet nightgown by Henry VIII in 1532. In those days, you would greet your adoring public in your privy chamber, so being caught in your nightie was a regular occurrence. Remaining regal and exquisite was an absolute must. But now, let's skip forward a few centuries to 1935, where Top Hat awaits! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For those of you shameful lot who haven't see Top Hat, go and watch it. Find it, somewhere, and bask in the wonder that is Astaire and Rogers onscreen together. The scene in which we want to talk about is their 'meet-cute'- the bizarre and beautiful way the couple meet. Staying in the same hotel, Astaire is dancing around his hotel room which happens to be above hers. Woken up by the racket of his tap-tap-tapping shoes, Rogers storms upstairs and complains. Struck by how beautiful she is, instead of stopping dancing, Astaire spreads out sand on the floor of his room...and tap dances her a lullaby. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And no wonder he falls in love. Just look at her nightdress! To anybody, that could be an evening gown for a grand party. But for the Hollywood screen sirens of the thirties, these extravagant costumes were all about keeping up appearances. The thought of being on-screen and looking anything less than desirable was unheard of. According to Lucy Worsley (bow down to the Queen of Curators), they were put in these remarkable costumes so they would shimmer under the lighting. Then, as these films grew in popularity and the A-line gowns became famous, cheaper, nylon versions were released so that women could emulate these styles. Hollywood began to pop up in the bedrooms of Britain. In fact, Lucy Worsley has written a stonkingly great book on the history of the home, and talks at length about the history of the bedroom wardrobe. Thank you, Queen Lucy! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Et voila. Whilst Rogers looked sultry, I look silly. But there is a heart-warming story behind this beautifully embroidered, 1930s-style nightdress and matching gown. </span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Three years ago, I was struck down with a mystery illness and bedridden for over a week. It was horrendous, but one day, a parcel arrived. Upon opening it, folds of turquoise silk slithered out onto the duvet, and in it a note from our aunt- 'Saw these and thought of you. If you're going to be in bed, you might as well look beautiful'. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So, here's to the screen sirens and all those in the centuries before them who make us want to look our best for bed. They might have been replaced with joggers, and why not? We don't always have to look our best. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But sometimes, when you're feeling blue, it's nice to look brilliant even from the comfort of your own bed, and maybe, just maybe, someone will be there to tap dance you to sleep. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sweet dreams and pleasant thoughts, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The Time Machine Twins </span></div>
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Helenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08765957444023558805noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2216456358757463994.post-81378539273948837922014-04-12T13:16:00.001-07:002014-04-18T02:27:31.658-07:00Topsham Lock Cottage: 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">These are a few snaps of our most recent stint at Topsham Lock Cottage. I've also included the links to the website, and a great blog post from one of our customers. Enjoy!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://topshamlockcottage.co.uk/">http://topshamlockcottage.co.uk/</a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://www.mollyandtheprincess.com/2013/08/04/topsham-lock-cottage/">http://www.mollyandtheprincess.com/2013/08/04/topsham-lock-cottage/</a></span></div>
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