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object of lust

(Photo from Kimleys)

The Lady is rapidly discovering that behind Stockport’s tawdry exterior, there are in fact rather a lot of hidden gems…  One such secret treasure is the fabulous Kimleys Dress Agency. Due to its proximity to the monthly home of Vintage Village, tucked away down one side of Market Place, it’s beautiful black exterior had caught our eye before and had been mentally noted as a Place to Visit.

So, when a move to substantially smaller quarters and one’s wardrobe space was suddenly been reduced from four comfortable doubles to one (shared), rather than cram it all in, it seemed the sensible thing that an enormous wardrobe purge should be embarked upon. The cull was BRUTAL and followed strict criteria -

  1. Has it been worn in the last 6 months? (if not, is it truly special enough for the special occasions its been saved for?)
  2. Is it well made and of good quality?
  3. Is it in good nick?

It became clear that much of the contents hadn’t actually been worn in years, or even more than once (shame-face). A large proportion of which had been part of my ill-gotten gains from my Student Loan days; when I used to literally run to Topshop Oxford Street, pelt down the escalator to the Boutique section and load up my arms with new designer booty. There was also items (and I’m embarrassed to say this) that I’d actually been storing under the misapprehension that ‘they’d be great when I’m an old lady’. SERIOUSLY. Said items were two very plush velvet jackets (one in luscious purple and the other black with a beautiful waterfall collar and cuffs) that I’d never dare wear now, but had had visions of my seventy year old self rocking out in at the W.I. Safe to say, a lot of the cull were that bit too nice for my beloved Moor Top charity shops.

And that is where Kimleys Dress Agency came in… They act as a third party seller for people like me who are either utterly disenchanted with eBay and its ilk or are merely short of time to faff with listings etc. They re-sell clothes, accessories, shoes and bric-a-brac for a 50% charge of the total sale price, which is agreed upon when the items are brought in. They keep hold of them for six weeks, after which the prices can be reduced, and if still not sold, can either be donated to charity or reclaimed by yourself. I really like the concept and think it’s a fab way to recycle those unworn bits and bobs that you would secretly begrudge giving to your local Chazzer Shop.

So, Tyrant and I stashed my now unwanted treasures in that incredibly handy area under his pram and made the trek to Stockport centre. Now as it was a Market day, I’m a tad embarrassed to say I struggled to locate Kimleys and actually did a couple laps before I collared one of the lovely Market boys and got him to point us in the right direction. Now, for my fellow dippy eggs who also use their phone’s GPS for day-to-day navigation, if you stand with your back to the Food Hall and head down the right hand side of the old Market Hall building, you will soon come across its black and gold fencing and shop-front (be warned, fellow Pram Mafia, there are steps! I did have to man-handle Tyrant and his chariot up them!!)

Inside I was quite frankly stunned to discover that, rather than the usual bog-standard dress agency I was expecting, instead there was a trove of colour-blocked treasures – as well as the standard modern frocks n’ tops I was expecting, there were also sparkly eighties tunics, gaudy seventies florals, a fab shoe selection and a counter coated in both vintage and new bling. In addition, the interior has been really sensitively done and is an aesthetic delight with exposed brick walls and some beautiful pieces of vintage furniture (on sale at most reasonable prices). A lovely oak desk (£75) caught my eye in particular, as well as some great seventies retro faux marble-topped coffee tables and an amusing tea trolley (£10). The walls also held some lovely finds – my favourite being an enormous oil painting of Venice (£45, if I remember correctly. A steal!).

I also was lucky enough to meet the lovely petite proprietor who told me all about the story behind her ace shop. Following a bout of travelling in the Far East, her travels led her to New Zealand where, whilst strapped for cash and needing clothes, she noticed that the majority of shops were dress agencies. It was a real Light Bulb moment and on her return to Blighty, this clever lady opened up the brilliant Kimleys last November. Visit their website or their Facebook page for more info.

Opening times are 10- 4 and they’re closed on Mondays and all Sundays, except Vintage Village Sundays (second Sunday of every month – 8th May being the next).

Heartily recommended!

The Magpie Monday movement, pioneered by the very lovely MissieLizzieB, is our new favourite Tweet trend. Every Monday, hordes of my fellow chazzers (charity shop aficionados) tweet about their fabulous findings of the week. If you fancy joining in, but are not a fan of these old lady staffed establishments with their faint odour of musk and old books, you can also tweet about second-hand finds from other sources (eBay, etsy, antiques fairs, hand-me-downs etc). Just tweet and add the hash-tag #magpiemonday.  The latest post on Lizzie’s blog details the incredible floral brolly she sourced this week. WANT. Being a total curtain-twitcher, Magpie Monday is now a favourite part of my week. I hunker down with a vat of frothy coffee and avariciously scroll through my fellow magpies’ finds. It’s like the dream collision of two very separate passions (nosiness and second-hand shopping). Plus, it’s strangely satisfying seeing all the other lovely bits and bobs and delighting in the nabbing of some great bargains by my Twitter pals (as well as sometimes being extremely jealous. Said floral brolly being a case in point.) Like shopping myself but without spending a penny (other than on my own finds, of course). Here’s my finds from last week. All culled from the INCOMPARABLE Antique Textiles Fair at the Armitage Centre in Fallowfield. I wasn’t meant to be going as attendance would be a form of cruel punishment, due to having seriously no pennies at the moment, but the Other Half was feeling benevolent and took me and the Tyrant along. I’m still recovering from visiting it, such was my extreme awe at the quite frankly vast array of textile wonders. I’ve already put in a request for my next birthday gift to be pennies to spend there. Yes, it’s that good. Anyway, here’s my treasures:

three small bunches of millinery flowers £8

(to ornament the lapels of various coats)

 

four yards of delicious Liberty-esque silky fabric £10

(destined to become a dress made with one of those 50s patterns of mine)

 

two gilt Indian hair pins

(one diamanté with droplets £10 & the other golden leaves & buds £3)

 

close-up for those Magpies that appreciate a good sparkle

 

black & gold clip-on earrings

(free gift from the very elegant & lovely stall-holder)

 

 

 

Following a post on the lovely Conversation Pieces blog on eBay & etsy lost loves (the things you wistfully add to your shopping cart but never pay for and then one day actually pluck up the courage to do it and then they’re gone), it got The Lady thinking about all those things she’d been lusting after but not had the chutzpah/pennies to buy…

Here it it, the all-time (Long-lost) Object of Lust list:

The Coat That Would Immediately Turn Me Into a Russian Princess

The Totally Useless, but Necessary, Moon Globe

The Dress Which, When Worn, Would Reveal Me as the Beauty That I Secretly Am

The Pyjamas That Dreams Are Made Of

The nesting instinct is one common to man, bird and beast. It’s certainly one deeply ingrained in the Lady, as there is nothing we like more than finding somewhere warm and quiet and snug in order to hunker down for as long as we can possibly escape for (preferably with a good book or three, some food offerings and maybe our iPhone with a wireless connection). Therefore, it should be of no surprise that this specific object struck a loud chord within our flighty, bird-like heart. First spotted in the fabulous View on Colour magazine many moons ago, a quick furtle around on the interweb uncovered its last public sighting, which was at the Telling Tales exhibition at the V&A in 2009 (which, after reading the review, the Lady is most disappointed to have missed). Entitled The Linnenkas Thuis, it was commissioned by Eigen Huis magazine and designed by Jurgen Bey of Droog for the 2002 Woonbeurs interior design fair in Amsterdam (elaboration and realisation by Christiaan Oppewal and Silvijn van der Welden). When we first encountered this lovely dwelling, it’s image had been cleverly teamed with this marvellous Bachelard quotation:

‘Wardrobes with their shelves, desks with their drawers, and chests with their false bottoms are veritable organs of the secret psychological life. Indeed, without these ‘objects’ and a few others in equally high favour, our intimate life would lack a model of intimacy. They are hybrid objects, subject objects. Like us, through us and for us, they have a quality of intimacy’.

Right now, on this miserable and freezing cold day, I’d like nothing more than to crawl inside this wardrobe nest and wrap myself up in a goose-down duvet with a hot chocolate (with marshmallows and cream, no fun without!), one of Bachelard’s best and place a small, hand-written sign on the door, carefully inscribed: Do not disturb.


The Lady was happily browsing her favourite website the other day, when she accidentally happened upon an article in The Storque on the art of display. Inside was an object seen before but certainly did not know of a use for… until now. Meet the Frog – an object previously used by flower arrangers and now hi-jacked by vintage loving nest makers as desk display art for holding pens & paint-brushes. A little searching on Etsy has revealed there are a few different varieties; glass with circular holes (perfect as a pen-pot), metal latice (same) or metal spikes (ideal for propping up vintage postcards or polaroids).

The Lady wants one. Now. Get yours off ebay or etsy.


Spotted this little pretty in Fred Aldous the other day (loving all the new Lomo stock) and The Lady is in love. This toy camera encapsulates all that a girl could need in a camera, with both adorable retro styling and the convenience of taking 35mm film. A little bit of googling later and we managed to track down the accompanying website with its rather sweet captions; like “Capture the stillness of silence. Capture the beat of heart” and “the lenses move together, like acrobats on a trapeze or a fated couple” and a rather commendable mission statement explaining how the aim was to create a camera that existed as an art object when not in use, so having both form and function – a philosophy that others could do well to keep in mind when creating the many ugly objects that litter our homes. But what we like most about it is its old-fashioned appearance combined with thoroughly modern pallette and materials, appealing to my inner Surrealist and consuming obsession with outmoded objects.

Mmmmmm…. the only problem now is picking which colour goes best with our new Summer wardrobe.


Our lust for anything by Tom Binns is finally made achieveable by this pretty from Topshop.  Compare & contrast with our previous Object of Lust. Can you spot the difference? We’d still do pretty much anything (legal) for one of his Faux Real cuffs though… Have a gander on the Kabiri website for his current collection.


Imagine this pretty worn with a bashed up leather jacket, a vintage floral frock and some biker boots. We need this in our life like a fat kid needs cake.