Ah, there's something about a tea-towel that warms the cockles of my heart.
Vintage or otherwise, I love Australiana tea-towels. Wherever I go, I pick one or two up. My One True Love knows that any trip to anywhere has to include a visit to the local purveyor of tea towels. I can happily spend hours fossicking through great piles of tat if there is even the mere promise of a tea towel at the end of it. In this matter my patience knows no bounds.
I have quite a lot of them now as a consequence, but in my view you can never have enough. They're kind of like orange shoes in that respect.
I can't bear to actually use them as tea towels, of course. I make them into cushions, or peg bags, or other kitschy pieces. I'll have quite a stash at my next market stall, at the Abbotsford Convent on the third Saturday in March, including these two here.
I need to start selling them, you see, in order to make room for more!
