MY LIFE IN LIPPY AND LEOPARD PRINT
I bought some vintage egg cups yesterday. I covered their history and previous egg cup buying traumas in my Merseybird blog.
You’ll be relieved to hear Andy had the manly, masculine brown egg cup at breakfast today and I the white one with a pink rose printed on the side (staying loyal to gendered stereotypes).
They were a good bargain I reckon, and with vintage being all the rage these days I felt ‘on trend’ for the first time, ever.
Then I went on ebay
just now and last night recently and saw a blouse on there labelled as vintage.
It didn’t look very vintage to me, I looked at the make and it was bloody Bon Marche. My mum used to get her skirts and jumpers from there (sorry if you’re a Bon Marche devotee or shareholder, I’m making a point here I promise).
One thing I know is, Bon Marche isn’t vintage, especially a blouse that came out two years ago. (Yes I have a lot of time on my hands today, and Google unearths many an untruth). I wanted to report the seller to eBay but Andy wouldn’t let me.
Me: ‘I’m going to report them.’
Andy: ‘You’re not the vintage police.’
Me: ‘It’s not vintage though.’
Andy: ‘Step away from the laptop.’
Let’s get this right. Vintage is Ruby Woo lipstick, polka dots, mad jazzy patterns and old egg cups that don’t match.