I have started a new – day a week – job to pay for our weekly food bill. I’m working in a vintage/fancy dress shop, blogging for the lovely owner and learning more about independent women in business. I really love working there; I’ve always enjoyed chatting to people and learning – when you mix fancy dress and vintage, the material is endless. There are some serious ‘characters’ around too. Not least an older man who rides a blue and cream scooter. He wears a blue helmet – which he doesn’t take off when shopping, for ease? – and very round, thick glasses. I saw him park his bike outside the shop, dressed in grey trousers and a cream jacket, it was raining, but he was smiling. I smiled and nodded. He squinted at me, then beamed.
Aimee told me on my first day, whilst most of the outfits in the shop are psychedelic prints from the 60s and 70s, occasionally she will get a gem in the form of an original, perfect condition dress. I’d seen this had happened before on the blog; “It’s very rare though”, she said.
Then on Tuesday, it happened. An older lady came in holding a clear plastic bag, full to the brim with lemon fabric. It seemed like it was heavy and yet terribly delicate. “I have this dress, it’s from the 50s. I wondered what you thought.” We pulled the plastic off the dress. It was flocked with velvetty flowers, boned at the bodice and had a skirt made of a thousand layers. I’ve not seen anything so beautiful in a long time. I asked if it was her dress.
She replied: “Yes, I wore it to Cheltenham. We danced. I felt like the bees knees.”
Can you imagine?