Mapping the past

Son 1 (he’s 16 now – perhaps I could actually name him???) bought his Dad a really fantastic birthday present last month. Admittedly, I helped, but the present was so ‘him’ that we decided he should be the one to give it.

 

It’s a huge early 20^th century school map of France. Son 1 stunned the seller by telling her he could date the map by the presence or absence of various French border regions – see what I mean about it being his kind of thing? The combination of maps and history really suits his interests. And you can see that I liked it, too…

 

Ben is also very pleased with it. Of course he’s interested in this kind of thing too, and he’s also been looking for large hangings to fill the empty space on our ‘barn-style’ walls. Everyone’s a winner!

Coming round the mountain in a vintage skirt!

We did a camping tour of the northern coast of Spain this month - another lovely chance to chill out with the family while visiting some wonderful places.

That's our tent, hiding behind the cornflowers, at the bottom of a high valley in the Cordillera Cantabrica.

This campsite was our favourite - lots of space and free mountain-goat jumping displays at unexpected times!

Both at the campsite (available for rent) and higher up in the valley, these herdsmen's huts called brañas are a feature of the area. They are thatched with dried broom! We saw the local cattle and a lot of farmers, out and about making hay. Choughs flew around us as we walked higher up the valley, and we spotted vultures and eagles on the craggy mountains. The bears and wolves kept their distance, though...

At the high, and rather distant, end of the valley was a beautiful lake. We took a (very quick) dip in it and Ben snapped this rare glimpse of me in this year's walking gear - yes, I was the only walker on that popular route who had combined hiking boots with a vintage floral skirt and a tie-die T-shirt.

Decorating with light

In the UK it's hard to imagine that someone would build a house with deliberately shaded windows, but in the south of France that's a traditional building style which still makes a lot of sense - our house is a haven of cool on a hot summer's day...

... but seldom light and bright, especially in January and February. It was Ben's idea to start dealing with this by building up a collection of mirrors, but I think my collecting drive has kind of overtaken his... he bought me the carved bone one on the left, which is a great shape, and I carried the middle two back from Edinburgh trips (the left middle mirror is a secondhand Ikea find, while the right middle is genuinely vintage, blogged about here). I found the final, 'feminine' mirror in a Vide Grenier - it's French and dates from 1964.

In front of the mirrors are an earthenware chipmunk, one of a pair my sister and I bought our mum in the '70s, a miniature portrait which I've always loved, also inherited from my mum, a silver gravy boat which was a wedding present from an antique dealer uncle and another wedding present, a modern decanter which reflects the light most beautifully.





It's what's UNDERNEATH the mirrors that's a bit surprising... I was in the utility room looking for anything reflective, when the gleam of a coffee tin caught my eye! We save all the coffee tins (our Fair Trade decaf comes in tins, there's no alternative) and we use them for all sorts of useful things, particularly seed storage, but I'd never thought of decorating with them before. But one of them gleamed at me, and, well, why not? The light is bouncing around the dark entrance area like it's never done before, and the coffee tins will stay there a while...

Green through the Gold...

"You'll have to repaint it..."

said Ben, surely tongue in cheek after all those years of coming close to having 'it', whatever 'it' happens to be this time, bashed over his head whenever he says this!

So this time, which was at the end of our September camping trip, 'it' was this gold mirror with the most wonderful bits of green showing through the paint. We found it with another mirror at a 'Vide Maison' in the foothills of the Pyrenees - the only time we've ever actually been to a garage sale in France.

Putting it up on the mantelpiece when the Christmas decorations came down inspired me to go and seek out the green and gold I already own: 'The thrill of what you already have' once again! (Sorry that died a death as a monthly project last year, friends...)

But one Christmas card was allowed to stay - do you see the wonderful Cardinal print that clever Izzie and George (our summer pet sitters) sent us? Wonderfully green, and a great reminder of a lot of Lenten fun last year...

A Modern Vintage Challenge...

Here's a photo of our spare room looking pretty OK. It gets scruffier at times, believe me! The look is cheap IKEA plus old favourites - a faintly vintage look with the aim of pleasing everyone - guests, Ben (more '70s cottage modern than me) and my pupils - many children and younger teenagers work in here with me for their lessons. My baby blanket is on the bed, on top of a thrifted crochet throw, a modern machine-boutis cover and our very favourite but now ancient duvet cover (circa 1993, I think).

Beautiful American hand-crafted lampshades, given to us as a wedding present,

sit with a few interesting bits and bobs on either side of the bed we made when we got back from our honeymoon.An oil painting by a friend (another wedding present) and a photo of Talkin Tarn, given by church friends when we left Brampton, Cumbria, sit above shelves of children's books, used for both teaching and nostalgia. Other books that guests might enjoy tuck in where there's space.

My grandma's oil painting of Brixham, presented by the Soroptimists when she left the town after years of service, is above the bed. It preserves the Brixham of the 1970s that I hold in my memory - I stood at the top of those stairs holding a collecting tin with my grandma so many times - the Royal National Lifeboat Institution, The Royal Society for the Protection of Animals, The National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, ('Try to look like a rescued child, my dear - they might give us more...'). I also counted the steps up with increasing exhaustion when returning from trips around the town. You can see why I hankered after this painting so much...So, in this mild yet memorable mish-mash, the old desk I picked up for 30€ really didn't stand out too badly. OK, it was a bit wobbly, and when the handle fell off I replaced it with cord, which confused some of my pupils, and anyone with longer legs might find them slightly stuck under the drawer, but it worked OK...

Until last week, when a lovely 12-year old girl I teach (we'll call her Student X, she'll enjoy that) phoned me up and asked me if I wanted her old desk. The conversation went like this:

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Student X: 'Floss, we've done up my bedroom and I've got a lovely new red desk from IKEA, and I was wondering if you'd like the old white one - I expect you remember it?'

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Floss: 'Student X, are you telling me that your old desk is nicer than the one in my spare room?'

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Student : 'Well, I don't want to be rude, but... yes.'

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Floss: 'OK, I'll come and pick it up on Monday. Thanks very much!'

Thus, a sleek, white, modern desk is now nestling into a corner of our spare room. It is bigger, stronger, and better for teaching.

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See how it goes with the vintage mirror Ben and I picked up decades ago in Cumbria...
Not.

This is my first real test of the excellent principles set out in Emily Chalmer's latest book, Modern Vintage Style. She looks at how an eclectic home filled with things you have, plus things you like, plus things you collect, can be the best of all worlds, and not a meaningless mish-mash. I knew when I read/sighed/dreamed over this lovely book that I wanted to interpret this style in my own way. This desk is my first opportunity. Thanks, Student X and Emily Chalmers!

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Now, friends, any ideas?

Modern Vintage? The responses...

I found your comments on my 'Modern Vintage' questions really interesting. Thanks for taking the time to think about what I'd written!To recap, I'd been musing on the phrase 'Modern Vintage', as used on my blog title and various new books, and came up with the following questions:

1. Is a love for vintage linked to looking at the past through rose-tinted spectacles?
2. What are the good things from the past that we hope to hold on to?
3. What are the distinct advantages of living in the here and now?
4. So what does Modern Vintage Living mean to you?
   

I'm going to use these photos of my newly tidied and sorted kitchen (or at least the interesting bits of my otherwise rather dull kitchen!) to accompany my response to your thoughts and my own questions.One thing I noticed was that a lot of people see the appreciation of vintage things and living as being linked to simplicity and core values - a rejection of modern advertising and the pressure to conform. I like that. I also personally feel a link to the people who made or previously used a vintage object - my university degree was in archaeology and it was usually the business of daily living in the past that really appealed to me. To be able to see how our ancestors lived, and to even hold or perhaps use the same objects that they used, is really special.
Most of you agreed that there is a bit of 'rose tinted' viewing going on - this leads on to those things we really value about modern life. This really struck me when Laura at 52 Flea was given some vintage recipe cards that had belonged to a relative of her husband. One of them was a recipe for Blackberry Cordial for dysentry.Can any of you imagine having to cope with a family suffering from dysentry, without professional help or modern medicine? I know that people around the world still have to live (or sometimes die) like this, but it's one of the incredible blessings of our lives that we no longer have to. I felt very in tune with some of the things Andi wrote about modern life. She noted equal rights and the friendships possible through the internet as real advantages we would never want to lose. I love the fact that one of our best friends in France is from Ghana, and that in 'vintage' times I might never have met him, and might have severely mistrusted him or even feared him if I had! Lots of advantages in modern life... Miss Freddie described 'modern vintage' as 'all about individuality, comfort and memories'. That's a good combination. A lot of you commented that enjoying the simplicity of vintage living
gives the opportunity to focus on what really matters in life - family, community, creativity, spirituality - rather than materialism. That may be one reason why I prefer pre-1950s vintage - the materialistic 'thing' was going pretty strong by that decade.

For me, the other advantage of this 'vintage' living in modern life, is that the Make Do and Mend/don't get into debt ethos that Angela mentioned is really good in a time of on-going environmental pressure and economic crisis.It's possible to live thrifty, green lives without a 'vintage' twist, but the vintage element introduces fun, colour and individuality into what otherwise might seem a rather Puritan existence of rejecting many things rather than embracing alternatives.But don't leave me with the last word - tell us what you think!

"Modern Vintage"

The strapline on my blog title reads: "An English family in France, leading a modern vintage life... " and sometimes I wonder what on earth I mean by that!

Whatever it means, it seems I am not alone in this attempt at modern vintage living. The fantastic January edition of BBC Homes and Antiques (sent to me in a private swap - wonderful, thank you!) lists "Trends for 2011" which seem to be summed up by this 'modern vintage' idea.
The magazine mentions the forthcoming book "The Vintage/Modern Home" by Katherine Sorrell, and a quick search on Amazon indicates that one of my favourite combinations, Emily Chalmers and Debi Treloar, will be bringing out a book called "Modern Vintage Style".
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Both books seem to have the approach that a stylish, individual and environmentally friendly home need not be expensive, but is best achieved with a personalised combination of thrifty vintage finds and whatever you happen to have already. That sounds pretty much like my philosophy, and I think it's one shared by many of you, too.
Last night I was thinking about this and wrote myself a few notes, enjoying the whole business of writing in pencil on recycled paper - quite a pleasant sensation, I noticed! I'm in the business of enjoying the little things, at the moment...
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And these are the questions I came up with. What do YOU think?

1. Is a love for vintage linked to looking at the past through rose-tinted spectacles?
2. What are the good things from the past that we hope to hold on to?
3. What are the distinct advantages of living in the here and now?
4. So what does Modern Vintage Living mean to you?

Pretty and Thrifty

Here are some pretty pictures of:
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Salads and flowers from our garden,
and thrifted vintage ribbons and threads.

Cheap and cheerful, as they say!

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Now, bear with me (lol) while I say a little bit about yesterday's post. It's amazing how issues like spelling bring out strong emotions in us. Some of you have apologised for bad spelling, which was not my intention at all! My jokey post was more in the way of a light-hearted tutorial - you can teach me how to crochet, and maybe I can teach you to picture a big, black bear in your mind when you want to type the phrase 'bear with me'!

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In actual fact, if you CAN teach me how to crochet, that would be the real miracle. Is there such as thing as crochet dyslexia?

Match box covers - from the sublime to the ridiculous

I told you yesterday about my little 'time capsule' of match box covers, collected around Europe in the 1950s (and quite probably '60s). Like collectors' cards, many covers were clearly produced in sets, and I've photographed some of the more intriguing ones for you. First off, sayings:
"Rainy Marriage, Happy Home!" It certainly rained on and off on our wedding day...

"Ill-gotten-gains never bring good." I'll say.

"Travel educates the young." Good one!

"Do more kindness than violence." Gosh yes, I should hope so... What's that stick for?

And now onto what I'm thinking of as animal fables, although I can't actually think of stories to go with all these stylish pictures.

The French really go a bundle on animal fables.

The boys have studied loads of them at school. Watch out, lamb!

"Entre loup et chien," perhaps? I well-remember my grandma teaching me that French phrase for the dusk - the time you couldn't tell the difference between a wolf and a dog. Spooky thought for a child, walking out in the evening with her grandmother... shades of Red Riding Hood, even in a Devon seaside town.

I looked this one up - it's a French poem.

Here are three houses from a 'Homes of France' set - to me they represent Lululiz, Elizabethd and our own family!

There's another set of French regional costumes, of which this one is my out-and-out favourite.

There are plenty of overseas links too - hello my Tasmanian friends!

The countries where the French had been involved are well-represented.

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Now, that was all sublime. Are you ready for the ridiculous?

Yup, a whole black and white set of landmarks of Belgium, including the well known Manneken Pis.

Not my favourite little boy.

Am I just prudish?Well, I had no idea that there was a long-running tradition of dressing this little fellow up,but if you follow that link, you will see it still goes on today.

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What?