Bridport Vintage Market

I have been in a whirl and am running a bit behind … I will endeavour to try and catch up with blog posts over the next days!  Last week went into overdrive with interviews, dinners, house guests, tour guiding and … well, just life in general really.  At times I just wanted to roll off the rollercoaster and watch the world go by for a while but that was impossible (I fell down the stairs instead – still hobbling, bruised and bloodied!).  Hopefully after today’s hurdle (cross your fingers for me please) life may become a little more normal.

There are no great photos to go with anything here (and the ones I have taken really do nothing to capture the atmosphere) as there just wasn’t the time to think about taking them.   I do wish I had taken more as there were many ‘moments in time’ that I should have recorded.  They are snapshots in my memory but will not stay there picture perfect forever.

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So, just over a week ago we enjoyed a fabulous day at Bridport Vintage Market.  Please note the ‘we’ – it is indeed the first time that Mr has ever been to a fair with me!  He won’t admit it but I know he secretly enjoyed it.

The weather was thick, heavy and oppressively hot, blanketing cloud hardly moving all day, but the eclectic mix of customers, the music and colour, and the vibrancy of the stalls made the day a joy.  From the old French pizza wagon to the billowing Union flag, from the obligatory bunting to the old Riley parked up nearby, the atmosphere was one of holiday fun and enjoyment and of treasure finding.

A colourful chap sat down nearby with his guitar and filled the air with music and song that had us tapping our toes.  Shortly, a tall man in a tall hat strutted by playing his steel guitar … as the two sounds collided he stopped and then strolled over and the two began to jam together.  Genius.

 

Mr even managed to sell a rather large pair of bloomers to a lady “who has legs that chafe in the heat”.  She asked if she could try them on which was almost too much for him, but, ever the gent, he turned his back whilst said lady huffed and puffed, and then pronounced them perfect.  Chafing solved!  Bloomers sold! 

Jelly Jam

He enjoyed watching the beautiful people.  The young couple who would be perfect extras for an Austin Powers set, the exotic black haired woman in faded cottons but with the most perfect silver dancing heels.  There were holidaymakers chased in from the sea and cockatoos preening in 50’s frocks, 20’s spats, hats and veils.  

 
  

Mr experienced life on the other side of the purse.  He watched women coo over lace and frippery.  He chatted with a woman who has a collection of 70,000 buttons – she has two houses and a room in each is taken over with buttons.  He began to understand that women need to touch, feel and sensualise a purchase and that it may well take them half an hour before they decide whether or not to purchase a 50p doily and a little cup candle!

We went home with a considerably lighter car having experienced a great day that highlighted the diversity of humankind … or maybe that should read kind humans.