Saturday, 30 July 2011
The Vintage Festival: Day One
They say that seeing is believing but sitting on the South Bank, I'm beginning to cast my doubts; to the left, a set of dandys have landed on site, forties from head to toe, tweeking their moustaches and smoking a pipe. Straight ahead lay atomic-print chairs, silver cigarette machines, and a blinking set of lights from a bygone New York ['from the twenties to be precise' adds a trader, dressed like Capone. For a moment, i lose myself, scrambling to find my era.]
For those of you out of the loop, I am of course talking about 'Vintage at the South Bank;' the mother of all vintage events, we've had the privelege of cultivating, assembling and creating the largest vintage marketplace on the continent, all for a weekend [and free to enter]
Looking around, many are as abashed as I am in this land without time; flappers sip on cider whilst flicking through the rails; a man in milatary regalia examines an Ercol chair and a gaggle of eighties shoulder pads are trying on some shoes.
Camera in hand, I bid adieu to my decade. Lost and loving it, it's time for a spot of time travel. If you're in the city this weekend, we hope to see you too.