The beau is the master coffee brewer in our relationship, and his ability has coerced my tastebuds into viewing the efforts of others as insipid and inferior. Today though, I am enjoying my current caffeine profferment with new zeal, namely thanks to the Cath Kidston cup and saucer I have served it in.
My quest for the perfect tea set is ever going, but, after discovering the joys of 'unco-ordinated chic' (Thank you Kirstie Allsop) I am assembling it bit by bit. 6 teacup and saucers, a floral tray, and a dinky single teapot and cup combo in, I am only a milk jug and sugar bowl from hostess perfection. For true vintage value, I'd hoped to scout out some charity shops and car-boot sales (isn't the American term 'flea market' vile?), but there is a distinct lack of them these days, even in a place as big as Manchester. The Northern quarter, home of Afflecks palace and the quirkiest shops of the city, has quite a tragic attached identity; Pretension marks those 'too cool for school' retro types, and something that'd cost 50p at a boot sale would set you back at least a Fiver. This is one of the rare times I miss provincial life, where the profits of junk shops actually go to charity, and one man's trash is another man's treasure.
Until then, I will be watching Bargain Hunt with jealousy and longing (Though not for Mr Dickinson's radioactive complexion), hoping anyone with unwanted vintage dinnerware will send it my way ;) .