Cherry Blossom time

Memory is a funny thing. For years I used to proudly tell my friends about my older sister, Blossom – how cool she was way back before I was even born. I’d tell them how her boyfriend rode a motorbike and bought her clothes from fashionable boutiques in the city. “There’s this photo,” I’d say, “of her sitting on the back of his bike, and she has this purple-chiffon-caftan-thing on, with long black boots.” I had a vivid recollection of this priceless family heirloom in my mind’s eye every time I described it in a gloating voice.

…I race to find the photo and discover that it is nothing like I remembered!

Finally I remembered to ask her if I could immortalise her image here in this journal, and recently she reluctantly handed over an old family album. Imagine my surprise when I race to find the photo and discover that it is nothing like I remembered! “Are you sure this is the only one?” I demanded suspiciously, as though my childhood memory was more to be relied on than my sister’s.

“Yes,” she answered firmly. “This is the only one in existence.”

“Alright, fine,” I say, still dubious. It was a fantastic coat, regardless – heck, it was the quintessential 70s outfit. But then I flip a few pages in the old album; the horizontal lines of gum under the plastic overlay are dark yellow with age. And then I find it:

A purple dress with chiffon sleeves! Obviously I merged the two photos into one romantic image of Blossom on the back of her boyfriend’s motorbike.

These photos were taken on the day of their engagement party (and they’re still happily married). Blossom can’t remember where she bought that dress from, but it was quite a bit longer to start with: below-the-knee… not quite caftan length! Blossom shortened it; to mum’s annoyance. (I have previously mentioned my mother’s disapproval of these dissipated Western fashions.) Sadly, Bloss has no idea what became of that dress.

She didn’t always wear minis though: sometimes she borrowed her boyfriend’s beige cord jeans…

She didn’t always wear minis though: sometimes she borrowed her boyfriend’s beige cord jeans to wear while riding the back of the bike. The coat Blossom wears in the first photo is blue and purple suede, and came from ‘The In Shoppe’ on Bourke St, Melbourne. It originally had a blue star sewn on the back, which she took off because she didn’t like it. Blossom does remember the fate of this coat: it was donated to the poor in Russia, and she likes to fancy some Russian woman wandering around in it once-upon-a-time. And naturally the lace-up boots are leather.

Bloss usually shopped in boutiques in the city, and sometimes department stores like Buckley and Nunn, which was bought out by David Jones. I myself nostalgically remember trips into the city, and the magical doors of Buckley’s. Other shops Blossom frequented were Sportsgirl (“I remember I bought a lot of things from there”); Sussans; Portmans; and Miss Selfridge, which turned into Chelsea Girl. Warms my heart to think her grand-daughter will soon be shopping at those same stores, if she isn’t already.

I asked Bloss how she felt in these clothes: cool, and fashionable? “Of course, all those things,” she answered instantly. And I must say she looks adorable.

Daisy in paisley

Daisy looked gorgeous today in a bright, sunshine yellow frock that looked cool and breezy. Not many people dare wear yellow, although I am not sure why it is any more frightening than other bright hues. It must be this perception, however, that makes it scream ‘look at me!’ that makes most people run a mile from it though. Daisy shares her love for it with Gingersnaps and myself – perhaps we’re all attention-seekers.

How long did it take you to put it together this morning Daisy?

Not long, a few minutes.

That sounds very definite! Why’s that?

It was meant to be hideously hot today – 39° in fact, so I chose the lightest, floatiest thing I could find. Although now I’m regretting it as the temperature has dropped significantly and the wind has picked up. This dress doesn’t mix well with wind.

The dress is basically the whole outfit so that’s where I started; the sandals were a last minute change as I was running out the door. I didn’t fancy walking 20 minutes home after a 39° day in closed shoes!

It’s a very distinctive dress with that giant paisley pattern. Who’s it by?

The dress is by Anu and it was from Phillips on Chapel Street. The sandals I had made a few years ago in Vietnam – they’re a bit tricky to walk in but worth it on a hot day.

I seem to recall that most of the jewellery you wear was given to you? Tell me about your necklace.

This one’s no exception! The rose gold chain and heart locket was a 21st birthday present from my uncle who found it in an antique store. It’s my favourite piece to wear because it goes with everything and is very understated. I wear it most days.

Well, your silhouette is certainly understated, but that pattern is a great contrast! Thanks for making our day brighter Daisy.

The backdrop in these pictures is part of one of the princess’ suites in Bao Dai's summer palace in Dalat, Vietnam.

Imperial Edict:

Designs on an Empire-line resurrect regal draperies, wrapping prestige in high-waisted shapes of softest chiffon.

When I was posting the images from the Jane Austen exhibition, I was already thinking I must also include the pages of this fashion shoot from FOLLOW me magazine. In testament again to how great a magazine it was, they are torn from the Dec/Jan 1988 issue, and have stuck in my memory all these years.

The hairstyling is of course extremely eighties, but the fashions are certainly inspired by the Regency period, especially the fourth image (above right), a dress by Stephen Galloway of silk chiffon over linen. I can’t quite see what the print is; it could be orange polka dots or hearts, but either option is charming enough for a young English lady of quality.

Click on images for larger versions.

FOLLOW me, Dec/Jan 1988. Photos: Martyn Thompson; background: Jayson Brunsdon.

Regency Style

Last week I went to see the new fashion exhibition at the NGV International, Persuasion: Fashion in the age of Jane Austen. I’d known it was coming up, and was excited to go and see it, as I have loved Georgette Heyer’s – and Jane Austen’s – books for years. Both of course are set in the English Regency period, although there is rather more about fashion in the former than the latter’s writings.

I love this passage in particular, from Heyer’s Arabella:

There were unimagined delights in the trunks: curled ostrich plumes of various colours; branches of artificial flowers; an ermine tippet… a loo-mask; a whole package of finest thread-lace; a tiffany cloak, which set Margaret peacocking around the room; several ells of ribbon of a shade Mama said was called in her young days opera brulé, and quite the rage; scarves of gauze, lace and blonde, spangled and plain; a box containing intriguing knots of ribbon, whose names Mama could not quite remember, though she rather thought that the pale blue bunch was A Sign of Hope, and the pink bow A Sign of Venus; point-lace tuckers, and lappet-heads; a feather muff; innumerable fans; sashes; a scarlet-flowered damask mantua petticoat – what a figure Mama must have looked in it! – and a velvet cloak, miraculously lined with sable, which had been a wedding-gift to Mama…

Although I don’t even know what some of those things are, the descriptions are such that one can imagine the utter delight of unearthing them.

…nothing could be prettier, said Madame, than crêpe or fine jaconet muslin for the Assemblies at Almack’s.

Arabella, the heroine of the novel, has been invited to London and requires a new wardrobe. Due to the family’s straitened circumstances, ingenuity is required, and her mother’s old wardrobe is refashioned into:

One or two ball-dresses of satin, or orange-blossom sarsnet, would be needed for grand occasions, but nothing could be prettier, said Madame, than crêpe or fine jaconet muslin for the Assemblies at Almack’s. Some silver net drapery, perhaps – she had the very thing laid by – or a Norwich shawl, carried negligently across the elbows, would lend cachet to the plainest gown. Then, for a morning half-dress, might she suggest a figured French muslin, with a demi-train? Or perhaps Mademoiselle would prefer a Berlin silk, trimmed with silk floss? For carriage dresses she would recommend fine cambric, worn with a velvet mantle, and a Waterloo hat, or even a fur bonnet, ornamented – Mademoiselle’s colouring made it permissible, even imperative! – with a bunch of cherries.

Morning dresses, afternoon dresses, carriage dresses, walking dresses, ball dresses – it seemed to Arabella and Sophia that the list would never come to an end. “I cannot imagine how you will find time to wear the half of them!” whispered Sophia.

Dress (c. 1816), National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne; The Schofield Collection.All the clothing is behind glass in the gallery, of course; some on mannequins, some laid flat, but I marvelled over every delicious detail: all the pleating and pintucks, frills and furbelows.

To quote Sophia: how I’d love the chance to wear at least some of these!

The exhibition is on until November 8th. Do go. Press your face against the glass, and peer into another world: a time of grace and charm.

See some period fashion plates here. 

Serendipity

I hate sensible shoes. They give me blisters. Really. If I wear flats for practical reasons, I end up with giant water blisters on the soles of my feet. But give me heels – the higher the better – and I am walking on air; tiptoeing through the tulips; on cloud nine… and all those other pretty clichés.

Baby-blue suede peep-toes were not really on my shopping list of essential items, it must be admitted, but who is going to walk past such pretty little things – especially at bargain-basement prices?

On a long trip back into the city from the country (far-off Narre Warren), I fell asleep on the train and missed my stop. I could have caught the next train out, but I decided to take a gander through DFO at Southern Cross Station. And lo and behold, what should I find but bargains galore? (Remember, a bargain is not a bargain unless you really need it… and unless they are very pretty shoes.)

(Remember, a bargain is not a bargain unless you really need it… and unless they are very pretty shoes.)

I did need new sunglasses, since I had played fast and loose with the Agnès B pair I purchased in Dubai and subsequently scratched by improper storage. And I am pleased to report that I found the perfect pair by Calvin Klein for the princely sum of $37 – but this story is not about sensible purchases. No. This tale is about those serendipitous purchases that delight your heart because they are gorgeous and inexpensive.

So it was when I walked into the David Lawrence factory outlet and saw the stacks of shoeboxes, I could hardly believe that these sweet baby-blues were reduced to $54… with a further reduction of 25%. I had to check with a salesgirl that I was indeed awake and not dreaming. This global recession is good for something!

And sometimes falling asleep on the train is not a bad thing.