My Love Affair With Red

I have had a love affair with the colour red all my life. It’s true that turquoise is my favourite colour, but I still like to flirt with red.

I am particularly attracted to red shoes (and red bags, and red belts and I have a bright red, butter-soft leather jacket too), and I make a beeline for them whenever I see them in some boutique. In fact, once I accidentally sleep-shopped and bought the cutest pair of Wizard of Oz patent red sandals, only to realise later that the plastic stench in my apartment was emanating from my brand new shoes. I had mistaken the diamond symbol signifying nasty PU for the pretty little leather mark! But that’s another story…

A few months ago I saw the loveliest pair of red platform heels that made my heart go pitter-pat. They were by Alex & Alex. Late at night I would walk past the window of Ebony and smile fondly at them. The peeptoes had a 40s look about them and featured the most exuberant, upstanding double bow on the toe. This was no ordinary bow: it sprang up with joy and shouted, “Look at me!”

This was no ordinary bow: it sprang up with joy and shouted, “Look at me!”

By the time I managed to get to the boutique during business hours, I was devastated to find that they no longer had my size in stock. Black or cream simply would not do. They could not be got for love or money from anywhere. They were gone. I would never see their like again. I mourned.

Then I rolled up my sleeves and went on the hunt on eBay. I hit paydirt when I discovered these little wonders a charming young English lady was selling. Apparently she had worn them only once to a party. They were my size (39) and the starting price was low. But even here I did not escape the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. The auction was about to run out, and I needed to know what the postage would be to Oz. Suffice to say I did not hear from the seller in time…

But the fairytale does not end here (obviously). She agreed to put them up for sale again, just for me. Here, in true Hans Christian Anderson form, the tale turns down a murky path: I had a rival for the shoes of my affection! I anxiously chewed my fingernails for seven days… and this time money won out. I finally scored the sparkly red shoes of my heart’s desire.

Here they are, immortalised, inspired by Powell & Pressburger’s movie poster. I have danced (painfully) in them indeed, but there will definitely be no chopping off of the feet in my case.

In Anderson’s timeless words: “There is really nothing in the world that can be compared to red shoes!”

Read the full fairytale here.

Valentino Red

The signature red dresses Valentino is famous for are also his most common and least interesting – according to the man himself. Nevertheless, they made a striking tableau at his 45th anniversary exhibition.

I wasn’t in Rome for this auspicious occasion, but vicariously visited behind the scenes at the Melbourne International Film Festival. The documentary Valentino – the Last Emperor showed on Saturday to a crowd (some of whom were dressed to the nines as though they were going to a premiere Valentino himself was attending) at the slightly less than salubrious Greater Union cinema.

The film celebrated Valentino’s career that spanned 45 years, and followed the last couturier around as he designed his final collections. Amidst the controversy of a takeover of his House by financiers, he prepared for the 45th anniversary extravaganza in Rome. As it transpired, he went out with a bang, for two months later he announced his retirement.

We see his seamstresses … confidently shearing fabric
and translating the master’s complicated designs into reality.

More fascinating for me than the political shenanigans were the scenes in his atelier, where we see Valentino sketching (beautifully); overseeing fittings; discussing dress fabric, form and line with his team. We see his seamstresses dressed all in white at their remarkable work, confidently shearing fabric and translating the master’s complicated designs into reality.

And what a character he is: irascible, demanding, arrogant, but with such talent and vision, why shouldn’t he be? He obviously worked hard all his life and demanded as much from himself as his employees.

When asked why he chose fashion, Valentino himself sums it up simply: He just loves beauty, and wants to make women feel beautiful. There is nothing wrong with that.

Snow White – the true story

Annoying little men. Look at them. They all look the same, even after I made them shave off their beards. Just as well they all have their stupid little idiosyncrasies, or I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.

You’d think at least one of them would be able to cook though. I mean, what did they do before I got here? Don’t they know I used to be a PRINCESS? Look at Doc – on his soapbox as usual. If he doesn’t shut up soon I’m going to roundhouse him to the head. And I won’t even have to lift my leg that high.

Don’t they know I used to be
a PRINCESS?

How did I wind up here riding herd on seven midgets? And how am I going to get away? If the Queen wasn’t so vain, I’d be back at the castle, with seven little people looking after my needs.

And I’m supposed to hang out here in the backwoods, waiting for my prince to come? How long will that take? Forget that! I’m going to have to come to my own rescue!

Thanks to Volodya for having the bravery to agree to extensive multiplication and Photoshopping.

Hats take off

‘Encrusted crustaceous cartwheel’ made to order by Sean Barrett (designed by Sue Blane and David Perry for the film ‘Absolute Beginners’); bustier, Saint Laurent Rive Gauche; jet beads, Butler & Wilson. Ph: Paolo Roversi; Harpers & Queen (UK).

‘Let hats take off. Some striking examples demonstrate the extreme hattiness of the moment. How it’s done? Tongue in chic. A surreal trick of judgment with wild surmise. Surprise? Classic distortion, upholstery, plat du jour perch above the stark silhouette of something sexy and understated.’

Heart hat of guardsman’s lambskin and fake astrakhan designed by Kirstin Woodward for Karl Lagerfeld for Fendi. Body, ski pants, belt, Azzedine Alaïa; gauntlets, Saint Laurent Rive Gauche. Ph: Paolo Roversi; Harpers & Queen (UK).

Recently I saw the Salvador Dali exhibition at the NGV International, which I enjoyed very much. Most of you will know that the Surrealists inspired fashion designers of the time, such as Elsa Schiaparelli, who collaborated with Dali on more than one occasion. Dali himself dabbled in the fashion world.

Inspired by the exhibition and my own love of hats, I bring you these images beautifully photographed by Paolo Roversi*.

Clothing credits unavailable. Ph: Paolo Roversi; Harpers & Queen (UK).

*Note: I believe these are from Harpers & Queen, although it is possible they are from British Vogue (though by the use of font, I think not).

Alas my love you do me wrong

Does anyone out there remember the Let’s Sing! primary school songbooks of the 70s? I have fond memories of the gems contained within their pages: Six Ribbons, Scarborough Fair, Whistling Gypsy, Purple People Eater … and of course Greensleeves. Everyone pretended it was so uncool to be singing these ballads and folk tunes, but secretly we all loved music class. Greensleeves was one of my favourite ballads. I even learned to sing it properly many years later when I was taking singing lessons.

Whilst researching the song’s history I discovered – to my shock! – that one interpretation of its lyrics (according to Wikipedia), is that ‘Lady Green Sleeves was a promiscuous young woman and perhaps a prostitute’.

Apparently, once upon a time, the colour green had sexual connotations, particularly in the phrase ‘a green gown’. A proper young lady had better take a rug with her, because if she innocently sat on the grass to take a breather, she risked a blemish on her reputation as well as her gown. People were likely to assume she’d been making love al fresco!

I wonder if the creator of these frivolous armwarmers properly considered all the ramifications of knitting green sleeves?

~

Alas, my love, you do me wrong,
To cast me off discourteously.
For I have loved you well and long,
Delighting in your company.

Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
And who but my lady greensleeves.