Let me count the ways...

Charity shops, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways: no. 1 Bitossi blue ceramic Hound No. 44.

"The Rimini Blu collection of ceramics was created in the early fifties by Aldo Londi, the former art director of Bitossi ceramics."

Verily, the god of charity shopping hath smiled upon me this day

The sun was out and, after a month practically house-bound at the weekends with the Open House, a very fruitful Saturday began. And what a haul it was!

Firstly, a very brief dash through BHASVIC car boot fair yielded a mint-condition WW2 Utilty label cardigan and an irresistibly opulent green lurex housecoat-come-cocktail-outfit.

Next stop: the bi-annual vintage sale at Oxfam, Hove. By the time I got there I was so excited it was more than a bit daft. There was a lovely early '60s frock waiting for me though, along with a navy and white spotted swimsuit and a '50s Lucite box handbag. I actually resisted two pieces of 1950s fabric and a selection of gorgeous coffee pots, but made a return trip to the till with a pair of oversized men's green tweed trousers.

Then it was across the road to Ethel's Kitchen to calm down after all that excitement over a coffee or two with the talented painter Lara Viana, who is far more considered and restrained than me in her vintage shopping!

Tigris

Given my very large collections of vintage clothing and tin robots, I do try not to get into collecting things only for the sake of it – I just don't have space to store much more stuff and I do like to use everything I own.

However, I have had a passing interest in mid-century ceramics for some time, but I do resist buying them… usually.

I particularly like the 1960s designs for Swedish manufacturer Rorstrand by Marianne Westman, especially the "My Garden" pattern (featuring fish, not gardens for some strange reason), which is rarely seen.

Recently I came across this 1950s ceramic cat vase, in perfect condition, and bought it intending to sell it on. After a very short time it had charmed its way into my affections and I decided to keep it.

Stamped on the base only with an unhelpful "Foreign", some research led me on a wild goose chase through Italian and Swedish ceramics and eventually to its unmistakeable origins: Schmider, a West German ceramics manufacturer, in the Tigris pattern designed by Anneliese Beckh.

I enjoyed this little research trip and I discovered some lovely things along the way. I can see how this could so very easily become a new collecting fad, but I am going to try hard to resist it. At least vintage clothes don't need dusting!