Things that make you go: “oh that’s a bit marvellous!”

A while ago I wrote about giving up on an old dream and pursuing new ones. I talked about writing for a non-academic publication, sewing and enjoying my babies guilt-free. I was worried about what the future might hold, but excited at what lay beyond my studies.

 

More recently, I blogged about a fabulous magazine called Vintage Caravan Magazine and my love of the vintage van. It was a post that resonated with lots of people; friends told me they felt similarly and were amazed and delighted at the discovery of a magazine specialising in retro caravans and lifestyles. I started receiving emails about vintage vans in the news, the TV programme George Clarke's Amazing Spaces (currently airing on the Lifestyle Channel and WELL worth a watch) and a book called Vantastic: Retro caravan holidays in the modern world by fellow blogger Kate Ulman. It made me very happy indeed.

 

But not as happy as an email I received from Lisa Mora, editor extraordinaire of Vintage Caravan Magazine itself. Lisa told me that she loved the post and the blog and asked me if I might be interested in writing for VCM. That's right, she asked me if I'd like to write for the magazine I had  fallen in love with. It took a great deal of willpower not to call her immediately shrieking "YES YES YES, WHERE DO I SIGN?!" But of course I'm far too cool for that. I waited a reasonable amount of time (27 minutes) and emailed back with a "YES YES YES, WHERE DO I SIGN?!" Call me Iceman.

 

"But did you write anything?" I hear you cry. Why yes dear reader, yes I did. I wrote an article about an incredible 1966 Airstream trailer and it's in the new issue (15) of Vintage Caravan Magazine, available in all good newsagents on Tuesday 6th August! Can I get a whoop whoop?

 

Issue 15 of Vintage Caravan Magazine

 

 

It would appear that sometimes, when you clear out the old you make room for the new. What seems like a frightening step into the unknown may actually be your signal to the world that you're ready for the next phase, ready to embrace exciting new opportunities and ready to do more of what makes you happy. 

 

Give it a try. It might just be marvellous.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Caravan of love

Today is a special day for two reasons.

First, it is exactly twelve years since Andy and I went on our first date in London. We met below the clock at Waterloo Station at midday and proceeded to take in a “Women at War” exhibition at the Imperial War Museum before catching a bus (From Lambeth Walk no less) to Piccadilly Circus where we indulged in a curry and a drink or two. A few more drinks were had in Soho before we met up with some friends of his and hit a nightclub that only played incredibly hip 60s music. We parted at 4am in different black cabs (but not before he’d stuck the lips on me) with the knowledge that something rather wonderful had just happened. We’ve been a couple ever since and I can honestly say that we’ve had a blast. So here’s to you Mr. L, I love you, like you and appreciate you; you’re the cat’s whiskers and the bee’s knees.

Second (and almost as importantly) today is the day I bought my first Vintage Caravan Magazine. Somehow, this publication managed to get up to issue 11 without me knowing about it but there’ll be no more of that! I will henceforth be an ardent subscriber.



Caravanning is cool

I have always wanted a caravan. And by always I don’t mean since it became kind of cool to be into all things kitsch and vintage. I mean that when I was a kid I used to ask for a “Gypsy” caravan for Christmas (I never got one, though I did receive an excellent beanbag and a Womble one year).

There is something magical about caravans; they appealed as a sort of giant dolls house on wheels when I was a child, a home in miniature with cute gingham curtains and sofas that transformed into beds. The extravagantly decorated Romany caravans represented freedom, a life off the chain, filled with adventure and warm nights punctuated by music and dancing, firelight and stars.

As an adult I came to see the humble caravan as a way of establishing a “room of my own” (though I’m fairly confident a van is not what Virginia Woolf had in mind when she recommended it). I’ve long held the dream of buying an old caravan and renovating it, turning it into a study/craft room/reading and tea drinking space, parked permanently in the back garden. And I’ll confess that I know this is where the kitsch would come in as I simply couldn’t resist the pull of retro colours and a vintage fit-out.

 

 

But lately I have come to the realisation that the caravan can be all of the above: a miniature home, a mode of transport, a taste of freedom and a special space for the things we love to do. Inspired by this knowledge I have just floated the idea of towing one along the Great Ocean Road, an idea met with surprising enthusiasm by Andy. The thought of our midgets (plural! Only 10 weeks to go…) running in and out of the van while we cook dinner and chat about where we might head tomorrow - knowing that a complete change of plans is only a turn of the steering wheel away – fills me with the sort of joy that makes you squeeze your eyes shut and raise your shoulders a little bit.

 

 

Currently we aren’t in a financial position to make the dream a reality but I will make it happen, watch this space. In the meantime there is caravan porn (my new mag even has a centrefold in the shape of an 8-foot 4-inch 1950s caravan called Jellybean) and time to create the perfect van… on Pinterest at least.

 

 

Happy travels y’all!