What I actally wore #0009

Serial #: 0009
Date: 28/10/2008
Weather: rainy periods in the morning only, 20°
Time Allowed: 10 minutes

Doesn’t your heart just palpitate with delight at the sheer gorgeousness of this silk knit top? Ruched and puffed sleeves! Polka-dot bow! Beads on the bow!

It was actually my friend who picked this adorable garment out of the dross hanging in the op-shop. I immediately felt a stab of envy and contemplated a quick shove-and-grab manoeuvre. But then I remembered we’ve been friends for 20 years, and also she knows where I live.

Imagine my joy when she regretfully passed it over to me because the style of the sleeves don’t suit her broader frame. “Oh, really?” I say sympathetically. “What a shame. I suppose I could bring myself to make use of it.”

The cute velvet turban is also an op-shop find – one that a different shopping companion turned her nose up at, but which received much adulation the day I wore it.

“Prada have brought turbans back into fashion!” I say brightly, but my friend isn’t buying it.

When I got home that night, I decorated the hat with a vintage brooch made of Aurora Borealis rhinestones that I found on eBay. It was described as an abstract motif, but I think it looks like a sheaf of wheat. I paid about $15 for it; it’s the type of brooch that would set you back $90 in vintage boutiques here in Melbourne.

I wore the hat on a jaunty angle and together with the top decided I was going on a 40s kick that day. Accordingly I wore my man-style, pin-striped trousers. Soft, cream leather mules pick up the same shade in the knit.

Items:

Knit: unknown origin, but not vintage
Trousers: Miss Shop
Hat: vintage, Kama’s Silhouet, Danish-made
Brooch: vintage 50s
Earrings: pearl teardrops from Camberwell Market
Shoes: Nina Martini

Ah, Australia, the land of the mini

January 20, 1969 is the date stamped on the back of the photos in very faded red ink. I can just make it out. My parents and sisters have emigrated not long before, and the girls evidently discard the shackles of communist Yugoslavia in favour of native dress as soon as possible.

Knowing full well that mama and tata do not look kindly upon the mini even to this day, I questioned my eldest sister on a recent visit to the family estate as I raided the archives. “What on earth did mum say? How did you get away with it?” I asked in astonishment. She laughed, and her answer was characteristically irrepressible: their voluble protests fell on deaf ears (and sprightly feet).

There is a lot of leg in these photos, to be sure. These cartoon dresses with their tight bodices, full skirts, peter pan collars, bibs and ties, ribbons and frilled socks must have been a far cry from the scratchy wool and wrinkled tights I have seen in older photos. (Please note: my littlest sister – the one with her hand on the emu’s rump – is wearing a polka-dot dress!)

I love how chuffed my dad looks in the last photo: “check out my girls!” his puffed chest is saying. Mum’s pink dress has a pleated skirt, and what possibly may be a pussycat tie; it is hard to tell.

The photos may be faded, but the optimism in them remains as bright as the Australian sun.

Ooh la la, le chignon!

This is simply a fancy way your very good friend might exclaim, “Oh wow, you look gorgeous with your hair in a bun!”

Everything sounds posher in French: chocolat; c’est la vie; un café noir, s’il vous plaît; le weekend. Of course, it’s more enjoyable to annoy your Francophile friends by deliberately mispronouncing the words, par example, ‘cross-ant’ and ‘murky bucup’. However, you do pronounce it 'sheen-yon'.

I like to imagine Madame Bovary wearing her hair in a chignon (she probably did, being French), or Jane Eyre.

This picture actually reminds me of the artwork of a friend of mine, which was an inadvertent result of wanting to show off my Indian silver hairpiece. It is delicate filigree work, and I bought it by weight, which I thought was amusing, but fair. It comes from Zari, a boutique in Swan Street, Richmond.

My hair is quite long, and I like it that way in particular because it gives me the freedom to wear it up in a number of different hairstyles; I rarely wear it out. Occasionally I have an attack of short-hair frenzy and chop it off, but it’s been long for two or three years now. It is also quite fine, so any chignon I create is going to be fairly modest in size; the result above was simply achieved by twirl, twist and pin.

I did experiment a couple of days ago by first teasing my ponytail before twisting it up into a bun, but it very sadly sank all too quickly – like brioche taken out of the oven too early. Obviously I didn’t use enough hairspray. There are some amazing styles out there though; these are just some of them:

Methinks I require the services of a personal maid from Madame Bovary’s day!

The bee's knees

Gingersnaps and I have two things in common. They are not our age (a vast chasm of years yawns between us), nor our figures (she’s a slip of a thing … I pack a mean punch). What we do share is similar colouring. Although she is fairer than me, the same colours suit us. And we both love yellow. Therefore, I was pleased when she declared she would wear it for our shoot.

Some people are afraid of yellow. I am not sure why: I have never heard of a colour mugging you in the street and stealing your shoes.

Be that as it may, I was doubly thrilled when I heard the yellow garment would come striped. “It makes me think of a bee,” Gingersnaps told me the day before our proposed shoot.

As this bright young thing was preparing to imminently dazzle Europe with her smile, I found it hard to pin her down to answer some questions, but finally managed it on the eve of her departure.

How would you describe your style, Gingersnaps?

Casual with a bit of rock n roll and a touch of feminine.

Gingersnaps does like her indigo skinny jeans; another work colleague was pleased that I had managed to get her out of them and into a skirt on a Friday.

Being a Melbourne girl, I’m sure the weather forecast had some bearing on what you chose to wear.

Yes, it was a weird Melbourne day, warm in the morning but cold in the afternoon. I knew it wouldn’t be freezing so I went with bare legs.

How long did it take you to pull this outfit together? Did it start with anything in particular?

Hmmm, about ten minutes! I had already considered my options; I definitely knew I wanted to wear yellow. I also have a gorgeous yellow scarf that I often wear, but yes, my stripey top is my current fave. It’s been a while since I’ve had splashes of colour in my wardrobe, so something bright is a nice change.

I love hearing a Melburnian say that! Where did you find that little gem?

I bought it recently in a shop in Apollo Bay. I was wandering around with some girlfriends and we slipped into this little clothes shop. Despite being on a strict budget, (the Europe trip, as you know) I bought the top. I really want more yellow things, so when I find the right shade it becomes a bit of a must.

And the cute pinafore?
The pini is from Frauhaus, I used to manage the store. The label is an offshoot of Lush, but Frauhaus clothes are always a bit more quirky. I think it has a real Fitzroy thing which I love, because I’ve lived and worked around there for so many years.

I like both labels, too. I must say I absolutely loved your shoes the first time I saw you wear them. Tell me about those.

I actually bought them to traipse around Europe in, but there is no way you can do a lot of walking (and still be comfortable) in those heels! They are utterly impractical but I love ankle boots. I spotted them in Giallo when they were full price and nearly died but couldn’t afford them. At sale time they were still there and I couldn’t say no!

Don’t you love it when that happens? Well, thanks for your time Gingersnaps. I look forward to admiring the several pairs of shoes I’m sure you’ll snaffle in Italy!

Ciao!

What I actually wore #0008

Serial #: 0008
Date: 27/10/2008
Weather: 20°
Time Allowed: 5 minutes

Victorian-inspired yet modernised in silk jersey, this dress is very soft and comfortable to wear. It is by Louche, a Western Australian label. (I can’t find proof of their existence online, but Scarlet, one of my Bright Young Things is from WA and can vouch for them.)

Back to the dress: I love its detail: the silk contrast at the neckline that bubbles out; the ruching on the wrists; the sash, another hint of Victoriana.

It is completely transparent however, which makes a full slip imperative. I managed to find a vintage one that is pretty enough by itself to wear as a dress. I suspect it is from the 70s or early 80s, when Victoriana was in fashion. Made from cotton, it is embroidered and features scalloped edges. You can just see the hem where I've lifted up the dress.

The only drawback of the dress is the fabric-covered buttons at the back of the neck, which are hard to slip through the holes. I am always cursing in the mornings since I am always in a hurry.

Embroidered all over, these big clunky mules have a certain bohemian 70s flower-child feel, but they out of all my shoes seem to work best with this dress, as a counterpoint to its daintiness.

Items:

Dress: Louche
Slip: vintage
Shoes: Zoe Wittner
Camellias: fallen by the wayside