Vintage bedlinen - an eBay habit!

J: “How’s the blog going?”
Me: “Mmm, okay. Well, actually I’m quite enjoying it. Makes me realize that I have missed being at work to some extent. You know, having a gossip and giggle in the loos (so Big Boss Man doesn’t catch you). It’s therapeutic.”
J: “I think it’s great!”
Me: “Oh. Right!”
J: “ Yeah. (Big boyish grin and twinkle in eye) Better than you being on eBay – cheaper!” He ducks.

Hands up! I am yet another on these pages to confess to being an eBay addict. Buying a Victorian cottage has meant I can indulge my passion: vintage bedlinen. It started when I was little. Going to nan’s for the weekend, always meant sleeping in crisp, white, cotton sheets. The one’s with the crochet edge along the top sheet. Heavenly. I was the Princess in The Princess and the Pea. Of course, duvets weren’t really around then: sheets and blankets were the norm. Weighty in winter, with piles of blankets and eiderdowns; light and cool against the skin in the summer. It always smelt so “clean”, I can’t really describe it, but you must know what I mean: the smell of freshly laundered cotton, lightly scented of lavender and the outdoors. Now, I have my own collection (much to husband and bank manager’s chagrin) made up of pillowcases and top sheets with hand crochet lace edges, Durham quilts and (favourite of all) eiderdowns. I even enjoy ironing now! Yes, I REALLY do (not shirts, though. Hate those one’s with the double cuffs!). There’s something so satisfying about ironing those gleaming white linens and hanging them on the airer over the Rayburn, and then making up the bed is an art form. I could dive into it right now. Duvets? Pah! Easy care bedlinen? Pah, pah!

I’m not a slave to vintage style. But there is something about cottage living which brings out the “urge” in me. I did try minimalism – I really did, but it didn’t last long. I have kind of gone along the lines of “new country” (saw that phrase in a book), rather than chintz, brass and lace curtains. Last week, I spent, what felt like, the whole week on my hands and knees, painting the bedroom floorboards. We ripped up the carpet, excitedly looking for those wide, original floorboards and found……… well, a few wide, original floorboards (several with defunct woodworm holes), some patched areas where the floor was taken up to install central heating by someone who didn’t give a monkey’s about the way it would look after, and then there’s the new bits. Great! Replacing the yucky one’s with reclaimed timbers is going to cost (bye, bye latest object of desire: eiderdown with 3 days to go) and I don’t want carpet. Ping (light bulb comes on). I’ll paint them! Farrow & Ball floor paint (marvellous stuff) in Off-White No. 3. It took me 3 coats, mind you. Knees are scarred for life and my hands will take ages to recover. This health thingy I’ve got means I get stiffness in the hands if they are in one position too long. So, grasping a paintbrush all day, for a whole week, is not comfortable, to say the least. They do recover, slowly. It’s something I have to plan for: I get a bee in my bonnet to do something, plough full steam ahead, but know I’ll have to allow “recovery time” afterwards. C’est la vie and all that.
So, bedroom’s done now and (if I say so myself) looks totally gorgeous. The floor is finished off with a large seagrass rug (from… you guessed it! Good old eBay - £24.99. Bargain!!) I keep going upstairs to peek ‘round the door and look smug. We had our Victorian bed shot-blasted and re-powdercoated in F&B Lime White colour, and it’s the icing on the cake. Ooh, is it time for bed yet?