Just been to Granny Would be Proud - a monthly vintage fair at Hillhead Bookclub - on a research mission. What torture that was.

I could hardly even afford the bus there, never mind treat myself to a badge. Why is it whenever you're skint, you want to buy everything?

The stall holders must have thought I'd lost the plot: inspecting every detail of lapel brooches; poking at buttons; savouring material between my fingers.

I did get some good ideas, so it wasn't totally pointless. I should be able to remake my own variations of some of the hair clips, head bands and hats.

Though I'm not so sure about the pendant of Burt Reynolds . . . .