Scarlet speaks frankly (and gives a damn)

Scarlet’s style is fairly classic. She likes things simple, but a little off the beaten track, with minimal embellishments. The blacks, whites and creams she often finds herself wearing complement her usual slim silhouette, although she professes that green and purple are among her favourite colours.

But there’s a whiff of seventies; an eighties vibe. Scarlet says she inherited her enjoyment of vintage things from her mum, who has filled her house (and Scarlet’s former bedroom, much to her dismay) with eBay bargains.

Princess quizzes Scarlet about her outfit:

What were your first thoughts when you were getting dressed today?
I wanted comfort; something free-flowing – in case I had a big lunch! Then I wouldn’t have to worry.

Did the weather forecast influence you?
It was a funny Melbourne day, about 20°. I hadn’t worn that top for a long time, and because it’s polyester and doesn’t breathe, it keeps me warm.

How long did it take you to put it together?
About two seconds!

Tell me more about that top. It has a great print.
It’s a vintage seventies tunic, which I bought from an op-shop for $4. It’s a bit big for me, so needs to be cinched. Today I used this new eighties belt – also second-hand – made of grey, woven elastic. It has a lion’s head for a buckle.

And the jeans?
I love skinny jeans! I always buy them from Sportsgirl. These ones are high-waisted. I have bought about five pairs over the years, because they are a perfect fit on my body type.

You have a magpie’s collection of jewellery there, and that watch has a beautiful turquoise face. Tell me about the pieces.
My rose ring is new, from Diva. It’s a bit big, but I loved it! The necklace was a recent birthday present. It’s a sterling silver dove on a chain by Allan Ryerson from Body. I had my eye on it for a while, but then my friend Georgie surprised me with it. I absolutely adore it! One of the bangles is a sentimental hand-me-down, and the other is Tiffany & Co, a present from my mum; so were the earrings. The watch is DKNY, and was a 21st birthday present.

You're decked out in presents! I can see the sunglasses are by Bollé. Where are the shoes from?
Yes, the sunnies are vintage and belonged to my mother in the eighties. The ballet flats are from Payless!

Well… lesson learned: girls, don’t ever write off your mum’s – or other people's mums' – wardrobes. Thanks Scarlet!

What I Actually Wore #0005

Serial #: 0005
Date: 20/10/2008
Weather: Sunny, but there was chilly breeze blowing, 17°
Time Allowed: 5 mins

I was tired of wearing trousers – it’s supposed to be spring after all – and decided on this pencil skirt with the easy-access zip down the front. The beige required a shot of colour, so on went this watermelon pink top, a favourite standby. The best things about this top are its sleeves, which you can’t see – because the best things about the jacket are its sleeves!

You will see them in another post no doubt, but the sleeves of the top are big and puffy, and multi-pleated. It does make it difficult to wear a jacket over it however. And the problem this morning was that although it was sunny, I knew I’d be cold without an additional layer. Then I remembered the crazy vintage bolero I’d bought a long time ago and never actually worn.

Black velvet, the jacket is pleated, puckered and shirred to within an inch of its life, but its sleeves are bouffy enough to allow room for the top.

The little puffs on the shoulder seams are quaint, giving the jacket a forties look, and I really like the sleeve length. I am guessing it was spawned by the Decade That Style Forgot (And For Some Strange Reason Has Been Revived Of Late): the eighties.

I was reminded of Cameron Diaz when I threw on the contrasting blue chalcedony beads and earrings. That light turquoise – more blue than green – is my favourite colour. As I’m off tights at the moment, the boots were a practical addition, and I thought they’d keep me warm; their fierceness also offsets the sweet pink. But despite my best efforts, I still felt the wind whistling up my skirt. Sigh.

Items:

Top: Veronika Maine
Skirt: Chelsea Design
Jacket: vintage
Boots: Nine West
Jewellery: Temple St Night Market, Hong Kong
Sunglasses: from Bimbo (now defunct boutique)
Watch: Kenneth Cole
Ring: NGV Gallery Shop

Please, ruffle my feathers

I am very lazy when it comes to mascara. Not putting it on; although I have done some stupid things whilst doing so, like being too lazy to remove my hat, losing my grip on the mascara wand, splodging black on the inside of the brim, and then spending five precious minutes trying to clean the stain. I did this two mornings ago.

Rather, it is the process of removal I find unutterably tedious. I only want to go to bed, but – no matter the formula of my remover – the tiresome stuff defies eradication, so most days I just don't bother with it. Plus, have you noticed mascara makes your eyelashes feel like straw? No-one likes hair product that does that: “Darling, let me run my fingers through your hair.” … “Ouch! Get your fat hand out of my hair, you oaf!”

That’s not hair sweetheart, that’s a blackberry thatch lying in wait to ensnare some unwary man. Oh hang on; this might not be altogether a bad thing…

Although, I suppose gentlemen don’t usually caress one’s eyelashes, do they?

But just cast your peepers over these pretty little things: false feathers! Aren’t they darling? They were so cute I had to buy them. The only thing that could have made them even more irresistible would be if they were iridescent like real birds' feathers. (I suspect they will one day cause me more frustration than mascara, however.)

They do bring new meaning to fluttering one’s eyelashes though, don’t they? Now, I just need to find a man who would be willing to ruffle them a trifle…

All in a Flutter fashion lashes by The Beauty Case, $8.95.

Chocolate Box

You would not guess it from the image above, but I am not a chocaholic. That is why you can glimpse two additional, half-eaten blocks of chocolate nestling amongst the fabric. They get lost in my pantry. Recently I even found a block of chocolate on a very high bookshelf that I believe I hid from a boyfriend sometime in the last two years. It was a strange colour and didn’t taste very nice.

There is no risk of losing this skirt in my wardrobe, however. I call it my chocolate box skirt.

I clearly remember the moment I saw it. I was looking for something special to wear to a friend’s wedding when I was walking down Chapel St with another friend, and spied it through an op-shop window. “That’s it!” I squealed. “Quick!” I made my friend take her life into her hands and run through the traffic lest someone else snap it up.

It is Indian-made from lovely fabric, like crinkled gold foil. The three tiers of ruffles flounce out and remind me of a flapper’s evening gown. It belonged with a very ugly, quilted vest that I was forced to purchase owing to the manager’s shortsightedness. “But no-one in their right mind would ever wear them together,” I argued in vain. “You’ll get more if you sell them as separates.” No dice. I paid my $25 and immediately donated the sleeveless vest back. It is still there for all I know.

On its first outing I wore the skirt with this – aptly – chocolate-coloured top from Monsoon and turquoise snakeskin pumps. I have also worn it to an eighties-themed party (it is a rah-rah skirt, after all) and an Arabian Nights dinner party. And I have no doubt I will wear it again on the next suitable occasion.

I was quite chuffed when a year or two ago I saw Burberry did a very similar skirt – at ten times the price! Mine is worth its weight in gold.

I'm seeing spots!

This photo has always fascinated me. A bed in the field! Children romping in shortie dresses — that may be my second oldest sister on the far left. I love the plethora of patterns: stripes and florals, spots and plaids. I love the baby (my cousin) in her little white bonnet. There seems such a story to be told in this candid moment, but there is nothing even written on the back. I am sure I must have asked my mum why there was a bed in the field but I can’t recall what she answered.

That is my aunt in the wild print dress which dates the photo to some time in the fifties, although her hair looks distinctly thirties style with the marcel waves. My mum is wearing the polka-dot scarf and numerous layers (the topmost of which is spotted too). Seems safe to say she was not the fashionably-minded one in the bevy of sisters!

However, she continues to be enamoured of spots, as you will see in the photo below. This is 1967, making my sister in her spotted dress nearly four years old. I bet that dress my mum is wearing is made of polyester, and I like to imagine the print is purple, as that is her favourite colour. Note the sensible loafers both women are wearing.

I know hardly anyone prints their photos anymore, but I adore the deckle edge of these, and the slipshod, off-centre printing; the spots and scratches. They need to bring the deckles back and then they might see a resurgance of photo printing the world over. Everyone loves a bit of instant nostalgia.