7 September 2010
The Good Fairy is an antiques emporium on Portobello that I often pass on my way to the wonderful vintage clothing market further down the Road.
Though I’m sure the store holds some lovely treasures, it’s the name which grabs my attention, as from a young age I was completely and utterly obsessed with fairies. I wore my little costume until it pretty much fell apart (see pics below). I used to leave messages for the elves I just knew were in our garden. And whenever we did creative writing at primary school I would add another bloom to the series of ‘Flower Fairy’ stories that I was the proud author of.
Did this innocent childhood interest enamour me to my peers and teachers? It most certainly did not. “Fairy Fleur” became the name they used to tease me mercilessly (I marvel now at the cruel twist children could add to a seemingly sweet nickname). And my mother was incredulous reading worries about my “lack of imagination” in teacher reports, referring to my stubborn focus on one topic for story writing (bear in mind this was the school that praised my high reading age but refused to let me borrow more challenging books from the library).
Now I have to say that my infatuation with fairies hasn’t particularly carried on into adulthood (bar a brief period where I donned wings at raves and granted revelers ‘wishes’ in a cloud of glitter – all photographic evidence of which has since been destroyed!). What I do love is the fact that what set me apart at school is something that I now think of fondly as I wander down Portobello Rd – no doubt it began my adoration of vintage clothing, and that same “lacking imagination” is now what feeds my performances, writing and day-dreams…
Do you have a quirk (past or present) that you’ve decided to embrace with open arms? Care to share? We’d love to hear them (and you’ll help test our comments function - we're still feeling our way around this blog!).