Masked, but not terribly dangerous

Another homage to Holly, of course, this image above has been pinned up above my desk for a number of years. It has become a part of the furniture; sometimes it is completely covered by other tearsheets and scraps of interest. However, after posting up yesterday’s What I Actually Wore entry, I thought of this photo torn from British Vogue.

I originally ripped it out because I really liked the window treatment, but I’ve never been able to find the right kind of lace to emulate the look in my home.

You might have noticed I try to hide my face as much as possible in my photographs, so I am always looking for innovative ways to do so. Unfortunately, I have not been able to find any animal masks such as Holly and ‘Fred-baby’ pinched from the dime store in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

And now the image is also apt in the superficial resemblance it bears to my own vintage dress.

This image is from an early 90s Ermenegildo Zegna ad, I believe. I certainly didn’t find the woman’s outfit inspiring even back then (but it is an ad for men’s fashion, after all); it was the kookiness of the styling that endeared it to me. I imagine the hostess of the party as an eccentric woman who puts a lampshade on her head on the spur of the moment … because it seems the right thing to do. And her guest, relaxed back in the couch and ready to be entertained, just throws his head back and laughs.

I’m now on the hunt for a vintage lampshade … hopefully you’ll see it on my head in the near future.

What can I say? This one is cute; a little saucy even. Some might call it kinky – but is it more or less so than my own Zorro mask?

Photo credits (from top): Mischa Richter, British Vogue; Ermenegildo Zegna advertisement, photographer unknown; Australian Elle, Feb 1998, photographer unknown.

What I Actually Wore #0006

Serial #: 0006
Date: 18/10/2008
Weather: 30°
Time Allowed: mental planning completed during previous week

I had a month’s notice of a friend’s cocktail party, so I was able to mentally plan my outfit ahead of time. It didn’t take that long of course: in all of two seconds I decided to wear my 50s LBD. Although it is vintage, it has an interesting cut and details that make it look very modern. And it's made of 100% Arnel!

I’ve owned it forever, and have forgotten where I bought it; possibly from Chapel Street Bazaar. I love the horizontal pleats on the bodice, and the draping on the front is very flattering. It originally had cream guipure lace appliqués on the shoulders. I remember soon after I bought it my cousin commenting the dress would be more modern without them; it took me a few years before I agreed with her and lopped them off. Sadly, I have lost them.

Unfortunately, the dress is very fragile, and I have stuck my foot through the lining more than once. I wince every time.

The eye for the hook above the zip is also torn, and the hem is pinned up in one place. (Mending is obviously not a favourite pastime of mine.)

On the night of the party, I accessorised with new silver sandals; a vintage Glomesh bag (bought from a lovely lady at the Camberwell Market for $12); my favourite vintage pearl earrings, and of course a beehive.

My chauffeur (we’ll call him … Paul) and I discovered the perils of torn hook and eye closures when my hostess discreetly zipped me back up. “Did your hands leave the wheel at all, Paul?” she quizzed him archly.

Sadly the night did not end at dawn with breakfast at Tiffany’s, but I did go home to my cat, who does have a name.

 

Items:

Dress: vintage 50s, Baker of Melbourne
Shoes: Zoe Wittner Design
Bag: vintage Glomesh
Earrings: vintage
Chocolate croissant: Brioche
Coffee: the Market Café

You give me fever (or not)

One might think this a perfect outfit for Spring Racing Carnival: pink, flimsy, frivolous.

But it's a babydoll, a sartorial staple of wannabe little girls the world over.

It should not come as a surprise, then, that I stand resolutely against its pernicious infiltration into grown women's wardrobes. 

And yet – I found myself buying one! Why?

I told myself it would be very suitable as a holiday party dress (overseas, where no-one I know will see me). In fact, it bears a striking resemblance to one of those purchases made in error, under holiday-induced temporary insanity. I console myself that it was secondhand; cheap; and can therefore toss it in the bin without a qualm when I come to my senses. 

So, odds are strongly against you seeing me gamboling about town in this getup, Cup Fever notwithstanding.

Sail away on a sea of polka-dots, cherries and nostalgia

These quaint little photos – and I mean that literally: they are all about 4cm x 6cm – are out of my friend’s family photo collection. They show her Great-aunty Belle and friends on a cruise to Europe, in the late 1940s, presumably well after the war. Also, below you’ll see the original photo packet.

What I find fascinating, apart from the peek into a personal past, is how alike all the women dressed! Of course we all know already that serious followers of fashion had to abide by certain rules: dresses were a certain length from season to season, gloves in the city, etc. Even all these women’s hairstyles are similar. It makes me appreciate just how eclectic fashion is today and how spoiled for choice we all are.

I am also pleased to see polka-dots appear in the picture on the top-right. The beach photo shows two women wearing high-waisted shorts with matching polo-style shirts.

And a great chapeau moment on the right: not plain old polka-dots, but cherries, which makes me completely ecstatic!

In the bottom-right photo, the woman on the right is carrying a box-shaped bag – a real vintage gem that I’d love to get my hands on. All the women’s outfits are similar, featuring pleated skirts, fitted jackets and very sensible shoes so that one may traverse the wilds of Italy in comfort.

I feel a forties blog or three coming on. And there will be polka-dots, that I can assure you!

Silver I have, gold none

I like white metal best, be it white gold, sterling silver, or stainless steel. I’m not a massive fan of base metals, but I admit I own a pair of nickel earrings: fabulous and enormous hoops with dangles.

I suspect this new cuff is of even lesser pedigree, sadly. Possibly even aluminium or some such other inferior material. However, I decided I liked the Celtic design so much that it should be permitted to grace my wrist. In fact, I bought it yesterday from an op-shop for $5, and already took it out for an air today.

It was actually a second; broken; but hey presto it took me less than a minute to fix it with my jewellery pliers!

You can see I like woven metal. I absolutely adore this stainless steel Kenneth Cole watch with its rectangular, pearlised face. It has had a rough life. I dropped it one too many times on my ceramic-tiled floor with the result that the minute hand loosened. Distraught, I took it to the nearest jeweller on Chapel St. They quoted me over $100 to handle the operation, as they would have to go through the back, dismantling its innards before being able to attend to the dysfunctional hand.

As much as I loved the watch, I declined their kind offer, for I had paid far less for it on eBay. It would be cheaper to simply replace it, and I went so far as to track down the seller, who obligingly auctioned another one just for me.

Meanwhile, I thought I may as well get a second opinion, and this time went to East Richmond where I had once had a battery replaced in another watch. They quoted me $10 for a swift overnight operation. Thank you very much.

On my left hand are two rings I always wear together: the top one with a concave curve, the bottom, convex. I have long loved Russian wedding rings, where three rings are intertwined; the ring on my right hand is based on this idea. A thin ring of polished circular wire is interlocked with a wide, matt band. They are all sterling silver, from Roun, and have seen many years of wear.

Next up is a Danish Skagen mesh watch. Of course I love the silver, but perhaps it’s time to give rose gold a try?