I had an inspiring and nostalgic afternoon in this busy Edinburgh treasure trove
I do love a good rummage
I recently rekindled my latent love of vintage clothing.
The newest addition to my wardrobe is a checked single-breasted Seventies wool swing coat from Richard Shops, which operated from 1936 to 1999.
“Do you remember them?” said the scarlet-lipped stallholder at B’s Vintage Market at The Biscuit Factory in Leith. “They used to have a branch on Princes Street.”
Well, I must be too youthful, because I don’t. However, we went on to chat about Bhs, C&A and Razzle Dazzle and I could not deny knowledge of any of them.
Anyway, my new coat smells lightly like camphor, and has a proper lining - a rarity these days. It’s tweedy, with orange and lemon-coloured flecks and shallow pockets.
Buying it gave me a real treasure-hunter’s thrill, of the sort I used to get when I shopped at The Virginia Galleries - demolished in 2003 - or Mr Ben in Glasgow, or Edinburgh’s Byzantium or Flip, as well as Armstrong’s before it was besieged by holiday-box-ticking bamboozled-looking tourists in Goretex.
I like to own something that has had a previous life, though this coat didn’t have any clues in the pockets. Thus, it’s not as exciting as the time I once bought a vintage satchel, only to find it contained an ancient Paris train ticket and a ring. That felt like a portal into someone else’s past. I wondered about their adventures every time I used the bag.
I’m usually a size 10, but my new (old) coat is a size 14. It clings tightly to my beefy shoulders. Have humans shrunk?
It cost me £65, which seems quite a lot, but not compared to new stuff.
I was drawn to a few other things at the fair too. There was a diaphanous smoke-coloured crinkled Nineties-style dress that I was too scared to try on in the changing tent provided, and a dusty pink Sixties cashmere jumper, but it didn’t have a price tag on it, so I resisted.
My other half went wild, and splashed out on a £75 Cowichan style cardigan that’s so incredibly thick, it’s probably the equivalent of a whole sheep’s fleece. Someone must’ve knitted this behemoth with knitting needles that were the same girth as two sausages. We had to lug it home, like a waterlogged Westie.
He had developed a hankering for a similar one, after watching the rumple-haired Ryan Reynolds in the film Project Hail Mary. The film was a slightly mawkish 6 out of 10, but Ryan’s cardi got a 10.
My husband is waiting for the thick of winter, so he can smugly pull it out of his closet, where it occupies an entire shelf.
I tried a version of these cardigans too, but I just don’t want us ever to be matchy-matchy, even in the confines of our own house. However, I have decided that, when he’s in the office and I’m working from home, I might borrow it.
Inspired by my new purchase, he also tried on a load of wool coats, some houndstooth, and others that made me think of something that Frank Butcher might have worn in an Eighties episode of Eastenders.
His arms were too long for all of them. His skinny and delicate Victorian lady wristies were fully exposed.
“I think people's arms have got longer,” said the stallholder, authoritatively.
He certainly has the wingspan of a great awk.
We didn’t stay long, but we really enjoyed buzzing around this fair, which is a regular occurrence on the ground floor of The Biscuit Factory, with a few more dates pencilled in for next year.
It’s run by Becc Sanderson, who has an HQ in this warehouse-like space, and is also responsible for The Night Market - another of my faves.
I think the vintage fair is particularly enjoyable, as they haven't piled ‘em high. I did not feel overwhelmed.
Also, the items are all pristine and clean. There weren’t any strange fusty odours emanating from the fibres.
It also featured some lovely chatty stallholders who all looked totally inspirational while wearing their threads of yesteryear.
My visit filled the gap that’s been left by recent bouts of failed charity shopping. Over the last few years, many of these places have been besieged with second-hand polyester Primark tat, and I never have any luck. However, saying that, do not lose hope, as I did get the best ever bargains in my local Bethany Shop last winter.
So many other people have been bored by this story, and now it’s your turn. Congratulations.
I scored five - yes, FIVE - Toast jumpers. You know, the brand that sells upmarket sweaters for a couple of hundred quid. Mostly Fair Isle patterned ones.
They were each around £35, and appeared in the window over the course of a few weeks. I have worn them to death, and they were just unpacked in preparation for this winter.
They’ve been the only thing to make me feel better about the impending cold season.
And, from the same thrift shop, I also bagged a Brora burgundy ribbed 100 per cent cashmere cardigan, probably worth about £300. Total score. I did feel a bit sad, though, when I thought that perhaps some stylish woman had died, and her knitwear collection had been donated. Why else would you clear out this classic stuff?
“It’s gorgeous, but could do with a de-bobbling,” said one friend, not allowing me to fully bask in the glory of that memento mori of a cardigan.
Well, not everyone can be expected to understand the joys of vintage fashion.
For the next sale dates, see @bsvintagemarket on Instagram, Facebook and Tiktok
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