TRASH OR TREASURE?

From a piggy salt shaker to a dining room pulpit, Veronica Henry has a penchant for vintage

- VERONICA HENRY

Seven months pregnant with my first child, I spotted a rusty wrought-iron cot in the back of a junk shop in Normandy, way back in 1990. With brass balls at each corner and a rail to hang reams of voile, it was just like the crib in Sleeping Beauty - and nothing else would do for my precious baby.

Ten minutes later, it was mine, much to the dismay of my parents, who I was on holiday with. Somehow, we wrestled it apart, collapsed the car seats and crammed it into the back of the car. Curled up into a ball, I was perilously close to being speared by a 19th-century iron leg.

UNIQUE FINDS

Back home in England, I had it powder-coated in white, and bought a mattress and a padded safety bumper. Yes, it ended up twice the price of a cot from Mothercare, but it was fit for a prince - and no one else had one.