Having not had the pleasure of a great deal of vintage-browsing since Christmas, this weekend saw me taking a little tour of the charity shops of Sherwood.

They can be a variable lot, these out-of-town boutiques of the discarded.

I have had some of my best scores ever in Sherwood (including a Bjorn Wiinblad poster), but conversely have also spent many a fruitless morning trawling through stuff that just made me feel a bit… depressed.

One shop in particular always cheers me up though, even when the quality of its wares leaves a lot to be desired.

Staffed by a seemingly ever-changing rota of energetic, charming and occasionally slightly dotty pensioners, the atmosphere in this particular shop is always one of barely-concealed, good-natured chaos.

And sometimes they have nice linens.

I have written before of my love of vintage napery.

I do try not to buy it as there is a limit to how much beautiful-yet-redundant stuff a home can harbour.

But when I stumble upon a delicately-embroidered tray cloth or lovingly-crocheted doily, often I cannot bear to just let it lie.

In the aforementioned shop, perhaps because the staff are of an age when this stuff was part of everyday life, like duvet covers or microwave ovens today, they do not see it as I do.

Perhaps that is why the napery, when it is there, is always dirt cheap.

This beautiful hand-embroidered tablecloth could not be forsaken.

So I headed up to the counter and handed over my two pound coins, exchanging friendly pleasantries with the smiley, silver-haired assistant.

Meanwhile, out back, the other volunteers seemed to be having a high old time.

Listening to the banter wafting out of the stockroom (“Now, what shall we charge for this, Doris?” “I don’t know… what is it anyway Ethel?” “Never mind. Put the kettle on…”) was every bit as good as finding my lovely bit of napery.

It just goes to show, there’s more than one kind of vintage treasure. ♥