Everyone who knows me well, knows that I am a shocker when it comes to money. When I went travelling around the world I ran out of all of the spondoolies I had saved, for months on end, precisely half-way into my trip, at uni my friends devised a special Hanny-money wall chart to try and prevent me from being such a financial-doofus and to this day I still have near-heart-attacks whenever I use an ATM.
I very much doubt I will ever be rich. But should I come into money, maybe with a lucky scratchy or Euromillions win, perhaps a booker-prize winning debut novel or a jaw-dropping discovery that I am actually the next Tony Hawks of the skating world… ahem.. maybe not… but should I find a few hundred quid down the back of my sofa (I’ve just looked there’s nothing there bar a hair-bobble, this is purely metaphorical) then I would gladly spank some of the cash on all manner of Concetta things from Habitat.
They have mugs and cups, bowls and vases. I could feasibly bedeck my entire flat in Concetta splendour. But why would I want to?
Well, because it is some of the most beautiful and whimsical designed crockery I have ever seen. Swooping pink and gold and purple flowers. Giant Alice-in-Wonderland chairs, prancing horses, tigers and lions and, well no bears OK, but all manner of magical surreal pictures and squiggles. I better get using my piggy-bank asap.