"Maybe... you'll fall in love with me all over again."

" "Hell", I said, "I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?"
"Yes, I want to ruin you."
"Good", I said. "That's what I want too." "



Sitting in a small Victorian style cafe in Carlisle this morning, I finished the book I've been reading. It isn't a long book but it took me a few months to get through, but not because it was dull or uneventful. I somehow got pulled away from a book I really loved by nothing more exciting than the internet and daytime TV, despite doing a literature degree. Things that are all well and fine, but aren't even close to the fulfilment of finding a great book. And over the past year I've managed to forget how much I love reading. Reading proper books: not news snippets on websites, or blog posts, or 140 characters of whatever. Real books.    

scarf- H&M, earrings- Forever 21, top- charity shop, dungarees- Zara, shoes- Jones the Bootmakers

 Of course, I am waxing lyrical about 'real books' in a three paragraph blog post partially punctuated by a picture of me squinting in the sun in a pair of dungarees. Perhaps I should have popped the paperback in my front pocket. It's certainly large enough: there's definitely room in there next to my phone. Maybe I'll try it later and tweet the results. #Imissrealbooks. All jokes and soon-to-be-trending-watch-this-space hashtags aside though, I really do miss books. And I only just realised today.  
 

 Sitting by the window I finished off the last morsels of story, closed the pages, and put the book down. As I gazed outside I savoured that feeling, until the front pocket of my dungarees buzzed to tell me that my sister's train was arriving.







Title quote from A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway

(Thank you Ruth for lending me your copy!)

"Thrift is not an affair of the pocket, but an affair of the character."

Dress- £3.99, Bag- £2, Hat- £4, White Shirt- £2.95, Striped Shirt- £1.99

I happen to live in an area with an abundance of charity shops. I happen also to relish a bargain. Furthermore, I happen to be comfortable in all kinds of weird apparel. Even clothes that look like they were potentially worn by an old cat lady who may or may not have died in them someone's Nan just the other week. So when my friend Nina asked me to go on a charity-shop-pub-crawl-type-thing (there was, admittedly, only one pub involved) I perhaps came across as a bit too keen. As in, I instantly screamed "Of COURSE, thiswillbesomuchfun!". Poor Nina.

For anyone Glasgow based, the best charity loot in the West End is to be found along Dumbarton Road, more commonly known as 'The Street Where Dreams Come True'*. Byres Road is good for the unexperienced, but overpriced and lacking in character; remember this also when you are looking for a pub. We started up towards Crow Road and worked our way right down to the Salvation Army, and it is in this stretch that I purchased all these goodies.   

As Nina found out, I have very few rules for this kind of shopping, but those I do use are working pretty well for me so far:

1.  "A bargain ain't a bargain unless it's something you need".
   This is just a rule for shopping in general. Just because it's cheap, doesn't mean you should buy it. If I like something, I won't buy it unless I can think of at least 3 outfits using it. Otherwise 2 months down the line it's getting re-donated to Cancer Research.
   
2. Be willing to step out of your comfort zone.
   Charity shopping is not like high street shopping where everything is new, in your size or laid out well. It's also not like vintage shopping, where most things are at least interesting. You will have to sift through everything to find something, and most likely that will mean a lot of fleeces.
    
3. Try anything!
   If something is suprisingly/ weirdly/ strangely nice then ignore the adverb and go for it. However, beware the fine line of "This is either really ugly or really great". It could go either way, although if you have to ask if it's ugly, it probably is. A point of note: not everywhere has changing rooms, so wear a vest top to try things over your clothes. 

Ok, so it's not a foolproof guide, but as long as you don't come home with a dolphin fleece then you should be fine. Unless that's your thing, of course. In which case there's no help for you.











*Disclaimer: I'm around 90% certain that it is only me who says this. The other 10% of me reckons my flatmate, who has a collection of blinged out iPhone cases and a love of cheap nail salons, feels the same way.




Title quote attributed to S.W. Straus

"I bring the sun wherever I go, buddy."

Having been away from home for the past two summers, and having heard the past two summers at home were dreadful, I felt pretty smug during this past heatwave. When someone complained about the heat, I'd tell them I was working in hotter last year. If people said to me I looked tanned I'd be all, "Oh, I'm just topping it up from last year. Yeah, I just hold tan really well". Smug with a Self-important capital S.

sunglasses- c/o my mother, jewellery- Forever 21, tunic- DIY

    

Honestly though, my tan only looked great in the right light. And despite having worked in the heat, I was in no way acclimatised. I spent an hour out in the sun the other week, got sunburnt, and thus spent the next two days indoors. I used my time well though: asides from making this top, I also made a bag from scratch. Not bad for someone who hasn't touched a sewing machine since before the first summer I was away two years ago.   


And suddenly, with that self-proclamation, I'm all Smug again. 



("Also, you can now follow my blog with Bloglovin!" she said, Smugly.)


Title quote from Franny and Zooey by J D Salinger