You think you know what this event is all about, but a few things may cause a surprise.
Jams and chutneys, for instance, hardly qualify as vintage, and yet here they are, hoping some kind of Englishness or hipster-friendliness sails them within the description's borders. Cupcakes are in on it too. Multi-coloured frosting carrying on as if it's a lifestyle choice has an ability to annoy me. But even if little silver balls amounted to a way of life, it is not vintage. It's not retro. It's cake. 2012's cakey tears. Bespoke notebooks are nice, but from yesterday; a Christmas present for Notting Hill's Sebastian, not a pre-loved jotter from the sixties.
Perhaps this is why there seems to be over-compensation which effectively amounts to cosplay. High-waisted, chain-swinging, pin stripes can be seen here, not on hangers but actual men-legs. People have been known to swing on stage too, in the cleanest sense of course. Just be advised then that while there are countless stalls of bric-a-brac, jewellery and clothes stretching across several rooms, some of it amounts to what I consider to be padding. I was going to tell a cosplaying cigarette girl in crazy red lippy, but she fainted when I took out a mobile phone and spoke of the allies' victory. read more