THE SELBY ISN'T IN MY HOUSE

Things That Will Soon Live With Me

I know I mostly post about clothes, but my blog is called Must Own More, and along with shoes, trousers and tops I also quite like buying stuff for my house. I had a bumper time this Saturday in the junk shops, antique yards and charity shops of Somerset and North Devon...

My Mum and I have a thing about naive art, especially anything with historical connotations, she has a wonderful school project of the Bayeux tapestry she picked up in a charity shop that always gives us a giggle, and this is my version - The Canterbury Tales. It's massive - about 3 ft long, I can't wait to put it in my living room. 

A poster display from the Taunton Odeon that was knocked down a few years back. This was the venue of my first cinematic experience, The Fox & The Hound, I found it so traumatic that I had to be taken out in tears. So this is my history, you see? Once this is cleaned up I'm going to have to figure out what I want to put inside...suggestions have already been made that it is the aforementioned film poster. 

The most mind boggling travel case from the 40's / 50's that only cost £65. It has two drawers and one large compartment that folds down with fabric ties to keep your shirts / jumpers in situ. The hangers clip back and can be fanned out to allow you to access your jackets or tops. It still has old travel stickers all over it too. I adore this, but figuring out where to put it is going to be a bugger. 

And finally along with assorted Coronation china to feed my addiction to all things QEII, this lovely china bowl. The matching jug is long gone, but I love the size of it. One day when I have a girly bathroom rather than a mirror and marble monstrosity this will have pride of place. It was only a fiver. 

So, that concludes my interior buys run down. I have decided that September will be the month of a house overhaul that will see painting / wallpapering / picture hanging and rearranging on a scale worthy of World Of Interiors which this month features Debo Devonshire's house at Chatsworth (not Chatsworth itself). She may be in her 80's, but I heart everything about her, including her decorating style and the bathroom featuring an Elvis portrait and wallpapered in silver foil. 

The Weekend Tidy

Every weekend I promise myself that this time I will blitz the house and give myself the perfect calming environment in which to attack the new week without distractions. And every weekend it ends in an epic fail (to use the common parlance of The Vampire Diaries, or maybe that was just the epic bit, still it rocked my world, teenagers talking about their small town relationships as epic before they even found out one of the crew was a vamp). 


I am really trying this weekend, so I've just had a tidy of my makeup and medicine cabinet...out have gone the separated lip glosses of yesteryear, millions of Carmex tins etc that have cluttered up my life. Next step - magazines. One day I might attempt my shoes, yeah, right...

My Mini Selby

I bought The Selby is in your place. I recommend the book. There is something about being able to luxuriate in a book that the web thingy has yet to replicate. 


Apart from all the damn hipsters (makes you weep how little and unconnected your own life is...not one of them seems works in admin, does shift work or has to de-gunge the dishwasher, they're all supermodels or artists or company heads and all blessed with looks the hottest person in the world would be jealous of) I love the book. Why? Because everyone has so much STUFF. 


Now, I have stuff. Lots of it. When I read Elle Decoration, Living Etc or World of Interiors, I feel inadequate because the homes featured are pristine, perfect and very, very grown up. Heck, some don't even seem to have fripperies like toothbrushes in the bathroom. They don't have piles of funny toys, leaflets for take out stuck to their fridge or stains on the carpet from excessive running with cups of tea. But in The Selby they do! Other people like me exist. Thanks The Selby, you make me feel a little more normal for having a home the way I do, and utterly bone crunchingly normal for just being dull old me in terms of my life.