Flea market finds

The title of this post isn't really very accurate - it should probably be called 'Flea market items I dithered over and hovered around like an anxious wasp before eventually abandoning.' But that wasn't altogether catchy.

I paid a little visit to the Melrose Trading Post on Sunday morning, in the hope of making my little apartment seem a bit less sparse and a bit more 'me.' When I got there, I realised I hadn't quite put enough thought into my mission. Buying antique globes, teacups and saucers and vases is all well and good, but I don't actually have much in the way of furniture. I mean I have all the basics, but I don't have a sideboard or a display cabinet for purely decorative items. The best you could say about my living space right now is that it's functional. And even that isn't entirely true... I still don't have a kettle.

And if I buy actual furniture, how the hell do I get it back to England when I leave? I came here with a grand total of two suitcases. If I start to factor in shipping costs, my bargainous flea market 'antiques' start to look a lot less, well, bargainous.

So I left empty-handed. But I was sorely tempted by a couple of things, and it's entirely possible I may crack if they're still there next week, and do some rash spending.

There was this:

Girliness in chair form.

I love this chair. I mean actually LOVE it. I could happily sit and stroke it for quite a long time. And it goes beautifully with the slightly chintzy, vintage-y, girly bedroom stuff I own back in England. But it clashes quite hideously with my bedroom here. Woe is me.

Would this make me more like Joan from Mad Men?

And as for this - well, I've been oddly obsessed with typewriters since I was a kid. For my ninth birthday I actually asked for, and got, a typewriter, and attempted to write my first novel on it (I was an odd child.) I love typewriter fonts, and I am very enthusiastic about the idea of having one as a decorative thingummy in my apartment. Except with said apartment in it's current decorative state, it would be living on the floor...

So. Thoughts. Do I give up and carry on living my pared down aesthetic existence, or do I set up my own little 1950's typing pool in a corner of my living room? On the floor. Because I have basically no furniture.