Art History Graduate

Vintage Kilo Sale at Motion.

Can you get more Bristol than that? (Not a rhetorical question, my struggle for edginess is ever growing.)

For someone who famously has to be dragged to any clubs that aren’t Lola’s, it was pretty unusual for me to eagerly stand in line outside Motion. It was even stranger to be there in daylight. I know many Bristolians will have been in Motion and seen the sun, surviving in the early hours of the morning, but I haven’t. My record in Motion is potentially 2 hours (and even then, I spent most of the time in the queue for the toilets, dodging the advances of the woman selling deodorant and lollipops.)

For those of you who don’t know Motion, I’ve just done a quick google search. It’s described as ‘Famed DJs in a matrix of old warehouse spaces with a cobbled front courtyard and riverside area’ which is pretty much the worst description of a club I’ve ever heard. ‘Yeah, Hugo, let’s go to Motion later, can’t wait to stand on some cobbled stones and overlook the river.’

Anyway, on Sunday, we entered Motion, not for a ‘famed DJ’ but for a Bristol Preloved Vintage Kilo. This basically means you are supplied with a bag and grab some old garms, get them weighed and pay by weight, at £15 a kilo. For your viewing pleasure (and a symptom of my epic procrastination leading up to deadlines), I’ve provided some highly aesthetic photo edits (more steps on my ladder to pure edgy goals).

Me thinking of synonyms for 'edgy'

When you first go in, there are stands selling jewellery. I was initially extremely hyped as a kilo of sunglasses is loaaadsss of sunglasses. It then became evident jewellery is sold separately, at £5 for sunglasses. Admittedly, they did have some pretty cool ones. But, as someone who needs prescription sunglasses, I wasn’t lured by the tinted frames.

The woman in the back was perhaps not so convinced by my photography skills

We moved in to the second room. It took us maybe 25 minutes to realise it was the main room of Motion. I hate to burst any bubbles, but the main room of Motion is actually not that big. During clubbing hours, it seems like miles to cross the floor, and you will suffer many an elbow to the face and or rib cage, yet actually, as a sober viewer, it’s literally just a normal sized room. Madness.

Actually not so daunting when my eardrums aren't being bombarded

Filled with plaid shirts, fur jackets, Adidas sportswear and dungarees, I could see my future at Bristol becoming ever cooler. However, on closer inspection, the rails did take quite a lot of sorting through before we found anything really wearable. There’s obviously the issue of quality –some things were a lot more ‘old and gross’ than ‘vintage and snazzy’- and there’s the problem of sizes, almost all the denim dungarees were the size of my bedroom, apart from a minuscule one which I couldn’t even get over my thigh.

If you don't rush to the sportswear rack at a vintage sale, do you even Uni?

We all managed to pick up some potentials though and went to the back to try them on. It was anarchy, with people whipping off plaid shirts to put on highly similar (but more smelly) plaid shirts.

(Just to clarify, Tash's expression is that of someone who survived the scrummage at the sports rack to get a vintage Nike shirt.)

In the queue for the changing room, I spotted one girl trying on a top I liked so sauntered over to tell her very politely that if she didn’t like it I wanted it so she should come find me. I thought the conversation went splendidly, but, as I walked back, Ellie said “she was terrified.” So perhaps my poker face isn’t as great as I thought.

Me hating the fact my housemate has edgier (aka: more fluffy) garms than me

I decided not to try anything on because I felt it was more in the spirit of thrift shopping to just chance it (aka: I was too lazy to take off my trainers and jeans.) The buying process was a surprise. I placed my bag on the weighing scales and the woman cheerfully read out “That’ll be £59 please.”

Maybe if I'd spent less time scaring fellow shoppers and more time trying things on, I would have realised this arty shirt is the size of a small tent...

Yep, also didn't try this Grandma skirt on before purchase. No one I've shown actually likes it, but maybe I'm a trendsetter?

Fifty. Nine. Pounds.

Some speedy mental maths (my calculator app) tells me that’s almost 4 kilos. I was visualising a packet of sugar, which surely is quite heavy, so hadn’t thought I’d go over a kilo that much. Then again, maybe other certain Bristol vintage-shoppers are better at said economics as they are more accustomed to weighing white substances…

Me deciding to wear this ski coat as a normal jacket because it weighs a kilo

Needless to say, I had to abandon two thirds of my loot and ended up only buying a few items and spending £23. Admittedly, my humungous ski jacket weighs about a kilo by itself and is pretty much useless considering I don’t ski. HOWEVER, can edgy fashion and brightly coloured, slightly strange garms really be called useless!? (Many would argue –shout out to my parents- that, yes, yes they can.)