Over the weekend, I went to a vintage kilo sale in London… This is a feat as A) commuting to London is annoying and a bit of a faff (not to mention a pretty penny) and B) it involved shopping which is something Stuart and I are generally trying to shy away from as we’re saving before I head back to the States. You know, for like a house and cars and babies and all of that. Regardless, it was good to hear the words “mind the gap” again. I feel at home in London, more so than I ever expected to.
So, we went to the Brixton Marketplace vintage kilo sale. I’ve been on the market for a great denim jacket for ages; the denim jacket I have at the moment isn’t the lewk I’m going for with it’s rips and acid wash color. While there, there are many things I, Rachel Chamberlayne, have learned. These are just a few.
For starters, a vintage kilo sale in London is naturally a gold mine for bargain hunters.
The Brixton kilo sale looked tiny when my friend Steph and I got there; we were both nervous it was going to be a bust. But low and behold, as Phil Collins so nicely put it, “For one so small, you seem so strong.” My arms held many items and kept them safe and warm. I wandered up and down the colorful aisles of bowling shirts and dresses and sweaters that were most definitely raided out of the closets of dead people murmuring to myself, “I am overwhelmed. This is so overwhelming. They ask me which one and I’m like nah I want all ‘em.” I’m not exaggerating; a lot of hipsters that were most definitely regulars kept giving me the side eye.
Check out the dates and times for the Brixton kilo sales here.
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Secondly, I am not great at measuring what a kilo looks or feels like.
I went in expecting to come away with two kilos and £30 worth of vintage clothing. I ended up spending £45 and had to put a lot of the items that weren’t on my ‘list’ back. This is mainly because I have an uncontrollable obsession with outerwear which is naturally going to be a bit heavier. I seriously own three thousand different jackets. It’s like my equivalent of a shoe or bag obsession. I can’t say no to a bargain priced coat. Please see examples below.
I even forced Steph to stand in a corner with a pile as high as her head and wait for me as I ran to the ATM so I could purchase the denim jacket I’ve now instructed in my will to be buried in. I then promptly went to T.K.Maxx and spent the remaining money I withdrew. It seems that when I am shopping with other females I lose all sense of logic and reason.
Note to self: stick to solo shopping as other women tend to encourage bad behaviour. It’s very dangerous to shop in packs of women… especially when you’re a bargain hunter… A vintage kilo sale in London (of all places) will seriously damage your bank account if you let it.
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Thirdly, you’ll want to make a list. And just generally try to stay focused… even when it’s hard.
Like any woman that goes shopping, hence the many Target memes, I lost sight of what I went in for at my first ever vintage kilo sale in London (understandably, right?). I made a list that consisted of a denim jacket, a leather bomber jacket, vintage Levi’s or jeans, and some basic tee shirts. Things I knew I was likely to find. I came away with two denim jackets, a faux sheepskin fleece jacket, an oversized wool sweater (RIP… will explain in a moment), a red Levi’s tee, (so far so good, right?), a tartan vest (don’t ask me why), a crop top, and a black T.K.Maxx dress. Things were going great in my life until someone had the bright idea to let me loose into a marketplace that had no price tags on any of the clothing.
Like any vintage kilo sale in London, you’ll also want to get there early.
It started at eleven and I’m fairly sure Steph and I made out so well with our four kilos combined because we got there about twenty minutes before the official opening time. We damn near missed the 9:25 train into London Bridge but I’m so glad we didn’t. We literally boarded that train the second it took off.
I wasn’t even halfway through the first rack at the marketplace at 10:45 when I found my black denim jacket. I’m convinced we picked over the best bits in terms of the basics (and especially the outerwear, ’cause I’m biased about my taste in jackets). Everyone else was dealing with mine and Steph’s rejects. It was a satisfying feeling.
Lastly, I can’t be trusted to take care of delicate clothes.
You know that eggshell colored wool sweater I said RIP to? Yeah… well, let’s just say black denim and white wool don’t mix. The final nail in the coffin of my beloved wool find was the tumble dryer. RIP to my oversized wool baby that never had its leggings and messy bun moment on a day I didn’t feel like dressing up at work.
You might be wondering what kind of an idiot puts a black denim jacket in with a white wool sweater. Honestly, I forgot that sometimes clothes are delicate. Let the record show I have never owned a wool sweater nor do I ever separate darks from lights. Consider me learned. I am genuinely gutted. The black denim jacket is doing fine, in case you were wondering. She’s gorgeous but she’s also the bane of me life.
All in all, the vintage kilo sale in London was a major win. If you ever have the chance to peruse one, definitely do. I’ve come away with three new jackets and a few other pieces tainted by black denim that needed a good bleach and a coffee stain on my white sneakers and a depleted bank account as the only two real negatives.