The Baubles Come Off…

Boooo to broken souvenirs! Well, alright, so these cute Vietnamese slippers cost about US$9 (and I thought that was a lot of Dongs at the time), but they broke the first time I wore them. (It may have had something to do with the fact they were like boats – little Vietnamese boats – on my feet, and one edge caught against something whilst I was walking, thereby ripping the thong out of its socket. But still: BOOOO!)

However, all is not lost. The balls have had the snip, so to speak, and one day soon they shall be reincarnated as a pair of dangly earrings. Although it still does not make up for the fact that I never got a chance to wear out all that pretty rick-rack and turn these embroidered slippers into disgusting shoddy souvenirs fit only for the dustbin.

So once more: Booooo! 

The Sartorial Adventures of Edith, Schoolgirl, c. 1926

Many years ago I purchased a handful of packets of old photographs in a store that sold all sorts of ephemera. Snatched from hundreds of family coffers and thrown into an enormous box all higgledy-piggledy are these early twentieth century Australian memories. Yesterday whilst rummaging around in my storage room, I found the album I had stored them in.

This young lady of the 1920s (whom I shall call Edith) has kindly left for posterity documentation of her summer and winter sartorial choices.

Here is Edith on her way to the tennis club, sensibly attired in her calf-length tennis dress, white bobby socks and possibly plimsolls. She has not forgotten her hat to shield her complexion from the harsh Australian sunlight. It promises to be a fine day, and she is determined today to beat Bert hollow! 

A few months later Edith is off for a country stroll with her sweetheart Bert, again coat sensibly belted, with thick stockings under her skirt to keep her warm (and socks under those beige stockings!); a knitted beret covers her bobbed hair. Nor is there any nonsense about her flat mary-janes. Her one concession to fashionable frivolity: gauntlets with enormous embroidered cuffs! The cold snap however does not daunt her good spirits.

And here is Edith once more, far left, with her schoolfriends Betty and Catherine, sitting on a wicker couch on her back porch. They are all school prefects together, and quite grown up now. Despite the uniformity of their school dress, and the fact they all wear a bob, they manage to keep a point of difference: Edith sweeps her fringe to one side, Betty lifts her bob with a few curls, and Cathy keeps her bangs quite straight. They are going to be friends forever!

Christmas Cap

The Vintage Hat Series: 1940s long velvet turban

How cute is this velvet cap? It looks like something a 40s snow bunny might have worn après ski, or perhaps one of Santa’s helpers handing out gifts and brewing mischief of some sort.

It is very soft velvet – perhaps silk or rayon – and flops gently to one side. The eBay merchant I purchased it from described it as a 1940s long turban – and very unique. It certainly is that. I can’t find anything similar in my numerous books on hats, or online.

Here are two more quaint hats from Head Hunter Vintage Hat Boutique and Greta’s Vintage on Etsy: perfect for potential Santa’s helpers. You can be both naughty and nice in these numbers.

1940s brown velvet elf hat from eBay’s Head Hunter Vintage Hat Boutique 1930s black velvet asymmetric hat with bow from Greta’s Vintage on Etsy

Chocolate & Pistachio

If you can’t wear a 50s inspired outfit to a high-tea birthday party, when can you, I ask you? It was chilly, so I wore a chocolate brown wool polo-neck jumper with a pistachio green and white striped A-line skirt. A white beaded belt and matching vintage purse add party-sparkle.

Chocolate and pistachio … rather like the macaroons (and numerous other tiny delicacies) we ate over chai lattés. Delicious!

Twisted Teardrops: A Short History of Paisley

Once upon a time there was a boutique called Lost Vegas. It was very funky and perfectly catered to the whimsical desires of an art student. During one particularly mad moment I purchased a very early 90s midriff-baring top with enormous bell sleeves, masses of fringing and a riotous multicoloured paisley print. It only took me a few hours to come to my senses, and I returned it the next day. That was my last foray into paisley purchases.

How a cashmere shawl was worn in 1865 over a crinoline… An original cost £70-100 back in the day. Image from victoriana.com.

Paisley takes its Western name from the Scottish town where much of the high quality textile was manufactured during the 19^th century. However, it of course originates in the East: in Persia and India. The twisted teardrop shape has associations with various flora (mangos, palm trees, pines and cypresses) as well as religious themes of life and eternity. In Paisley up to 15 colours could be woven at once, but that was still only one quarter of the colours used in the glorious shawls imported from Kashmir by the East India Company.

The paisley motif has been used to decorate Persian royal and commoner garments alike; draped the shoulders A modern-day pure pashmina paisley shawl (6.7ft x 3.5ft) will set you back $356.25 (on sale from $475). Image from exoticindiaart.com.of nineteenth century European aristocrats; adorned the furnishings of Uzbekistan and Iran – and finally it became a symbol of rebellion during the Summer of Love, its swirling patterns a perfect expression of psychedelic visual art. 

…finally it became a symbol of rebellion during the Summer of Love…

Earlier this year a sudden and inexplicable desire for paisley arose in me once more. I decided to trawl Etsy and eBay for something a little more interesting than the traditional Kashmiri shawl. I found this sweet vintage bag, embroidered and beaded with a paisley pattern on pretty raspberry silk. The finely woven silk shawl (also found on Etsy) is not paisley, but complements the bag beautifully anyway.

But I really should have kept that 70s-inspired top from Lost Vegas.

For a wonderful much longer history of Kashmiri shawls, click here.