Did Aristocrats Eat Krispy Kremes?

Last year I did a short course in basic ceramics. I made the obligatory pots and bowls and plates, but I was more interested in my own agenda than the teacher’s. I planned to make some ceramic sculptures and jewellery pieces.

The sculptures were lifesize models of original glaze Krispy Kreme donuts. They turned out better than I hoped – and look good enough to eat (if you weren’t afraid of breaking your tooth on them).

The jewellery pieces consist of pendants and random earring dangles embossed with guipure lace patterns. Some are glazed green, some blue. The bow pendant above was almost an afterthought. Made from bisque clay, it is finished with a clear glaze, and slightly rough around the edges owing to my haste in modelling it at the end of a session.

I do like it however, suspended on a black velvet ribbon that is itself finished with a bow. The ribbon motif makes me think eighteenth century jewellery; its creamy richness of the fair skin of those voluptuous beauties who would have worn them. Those aristocrats were plump from indolence though, not Krispy Kremes.

A Round of Crochet

I have a sneaking fondness for crochet.

There, I’ve admitted it out loud. Crochet does have a grandma-ish reputation, conjuring up visions of crocheted blankets and doilies; it is not of those multi-coloured relics I speak.

I don’t like crochet quite as much as lace, but there is a style of Irish crochet lace that very much resembles the Flemish needle lace that I so love.

There seems to be some controversy amongst fashion historians about the origins of crochet, but most agree that there is no record of this form of needle art prior to the 1800s. Certainly it was not until the 1840s that written instructions were published. It was the Irish who became world famous for their crochet or guipure lace in the mid nineteenth century, because of the need of the people to supplement their income due to the great potato famine.

My version of multi-coloured crochet.

Over the years I have managed to collect a few crocheted items: heavy vintage cardigans made from silk or rayon thread, a multicoloured skirt, a pair of gloves, and even a bag that appears to be crocheted from plastic wire. Sadly antique garments are beyond my purse (and I have seen a few beautiful boleros and jackets on eBay in recent days go for well over AU$400) – although at least I can still afford to buy a few potatoes.

Some antique and more modern samples below (click on image for larger version):

(Clockwise from top left) Doily, Sweden (Wikipedia); Marcel Wanders Crochet Table (bonluxat.com); Portuguese tablecloth, c 1970 (Wikipedia); Titanic era linen batiste gown (cocardesandcorsetry.com); Irish crochet lace, based on Flemish needle lace, late 19th century (Wikipedia); pendant lamps (stores.rianrae.com); Irish crochet lace, late 19th century (stitchinfingers.ning.com). (Centre) Crocheted chair by Marcel Wanders (marinsawa.wordpress.com).

What We Actually Wore #0035

Serial #: 0035
Date: 17/12/2009
Weather: forecast 23°
Time Allowed: 10 minutes

It was a mild day, but a little sultry. A storm was brewing, I knew. I was meeting my former work colleagues for a Christmas lunch at a café near my old office.

I had recently been to the Way We Wear Vintage Fair* in Williamstown, and took out the Zambesi dress I had bought from there. I had liked it because the vertical pleats and straight lines of the dress reminded me of a 20s tennis frock. The linen fabric was lovely too.

I belted it loosely around the hips with a red leather belt I had fallen in love with at MNG, in Dubai a couple of summers ago. I have a large collection of belts, but often forget to wear them except on special occasions (usually because I am in a rush in the mornings). This belt was expensive, but so soft and buttery – I love it. I had also bought from the Vintage Fair a silvery, heavily sequinned belt that actually worked well with the Zambesi dress, but it felt too glitzy for this occasion.

Because the skies threatened imminent rain, I slipped on a blue coat – also from the Fair – with lovely pleated details on the sleeves and pockets. I’m always attracted to anything with pleats. (The coat came with a matching dress but I am yet to wear that, as it needs to be downsized by a tailor first.)

The black bangle – one of the few I wear regularly – is woven from some kind of plastic mesh. It’s chunky and quite substantial, but light at the same time. That was a great score for $8.

The thongs I wore out of practicality – I wanted something comfortable to walk in for half an hour, and being coral pink, they clashed nicely with the red belt. (Doesn’t do to match too well, although I forgot to photograph the red leather envelope clutch I carried. Its colour matches the belt exactly.) And as promised, it rained on my way home: the coat kept me from the cool breeze, but my feet were drenched!

Items:

Dress: Zambesi
Coat: vintage
Belt: Mango (MNG in Australia)
Bangle: Salvos
Earrings: Turkish earrings from Palm Beads
Rings: Roun
Watch: Kenneth Cole
Shoes: Elle Effe

~

*The Vintage Fair is on again NEXT WEEKEND at the Williamstown Town Hall.
Saturday 19 June 10am–5pm and Sunday 20 June 10am–4pm.
Entry $12

The Magical Scarf

Once upon a time there was a (fairly) young princess who was fond of wearing scarves.

By day she entwined her neck in the prettiest hand-knitted designer pink scarf that was adorned with silk ribbons and tinkled with shells dangling at the fringe. She was very pretty. By day…

By night it was a different story. Off went the pink scarf and the princess donned red and black tribal regalia instead. She would wave it about ferociously in a most unladylike manner whenever her champions clouted the enemy.

And when it was time to go home, remarkably the princess once more reverted to her docile ways – just as soon as she removed the magical scarf, and replaced it with the pretty pink one.

Such was the transformative power of the red and the black.

Hurrah for the circus!

The circus has been the inspiration for countless fashion editorials for decades. And it’s no wonder: what a source of colourful imagery, from acrobats and animals, to bearded and beautiful ladies (sometimes both at once); from clowns to unicyclists, jugglers to juggernauts – it’s a stylist’s Shangri-La.

Here, feathers, rhinestones and greasepaint reign supreme, along with gasps of laughter and children’s wonder. Carnival stripes and tulle tutus; flaming hoops and magic tricks – all belong to this troupe of dreams.

My outfit took many months to pull together: purple ostrich plumes and a vintage rose made from baby pink feathers; a beaded, pale turquoise silk top; a pink mini-crini; silver lurex stockings and glittery red heels. I am only missing a performing pony.

Scroll down for a selection of fashion editorials gone by. Apologies: I don’t know the source of all the tearsheets, but they do all come from early 1990s fashion magazines. (Don’t forget to check out the Out-takes & Extras gallery for a few more pics.)

Click on images for larger versions.

From a US magazine, ph: Guzman, c1990s.

‘Cubist Guitar’ hat and tangerine tutu dressPolkadots and piggies!

Napoleon in striped breeches, and vintage postcardsFlipper footwear; strongman strikes a pose

French Glamour, ph: François Halard, c1990s.

Festooned in stripes and exotic Oriental pattern upon pattern.

British Vogue, ph: Steven Meisel, c1990s. Isabella’s YSL jacket is to die for.Another (Givenchy) jacket straight out of fantasy, and an utterly thrilling Steven Jones hat.