Honesty in the City

Yesterday evening whilst doing some shopping in the city I passed a window of a boutique and did a double-take. Plus-size mannequins! I had to stop to snap a photo. I don’t know about the city where you live, but this is a first for one of Melbourne’s busiest shopping strips – although recently I also saw some other mannequins that were extremely well-endowed.

As the average size of the Australian woman is now 14–16, it certainly makes a refreshing change from the usual impossibly slender mannequins whose figures, were they live humans, would imply an enviably high metabolism (or miserably strict diet)!

Apparently this boutique used to be called Big City Chic, I’m told by a friend. Sensibly they dropped the prefix. However, I most assuredly did not see any of these mannequins in Myer yesterday.

Semi-Precious

I much prefer opaque semi-precious gems to sparkling jewels: turquoise, onyx, agate, and of course pearls. They seem so much more tactile; a dramatic statement that is more interesting to me than a discreet diamond pendant.

A few years ago I was shopping in Stanley Market in Hong Kong. I had gone there braced for serendipitous purchases, but I was also on a mission to find black onyx beads, 4mm or smaller. Long before I left Melbourne, I’d been looking for these beads online and already knew they were scarcely to be found; I’d exhausted all the beading supply stores I normally shopped at.

I much prefer opaque semi-precious gems to sparkling jewels…

As soon as I had disembarked from the bus, and my friend and I had got our bearings, I made a beeline for the jewellery stores on the outside edge of the market. To my surprise, hanging behind the counter of the first store I saw my 4mm onyx beads! I managed to contain my excitement until the saleswoman could attend me.

“These are very rare,” she informed me.

“I know!” I responded, all in a glow as I slapped down my Hong Kong dollars.

Mission accomplished, my friend and I turned to the main entrance of the market. How I love foreign markets, with their twists and turns and strange side streets! You never know what you may unearth. Some time during that day I discovered on the bottom shelf of a grubby stall a little cardboard box that contained large sticks of coral. I bought three at $4 each.

At home I assembled a necklace in a classic colour combination of black, white and red: precious onyx beads, rice and fused coin pearls, and a stick of coral. I don’t actually wear it often: the pleasure was more in the discovery, the making, and the touching. 

What I Actually Wore #0042

Serial #: 0042
Date: 12/09/2010
Weather: a mild 18.5°
Time Allowed: 10 minutes

It’s very unusual for me to take a long time to dress – I tend to make up my mind quickly as I know my wardrobe well. Outfits generally start with one item, and living in Melbourne requires one eye on the forecast, and one on the constantly changing weather conditions.

Today was no exception. I had already decided to wear a new vintage 40s hat, purchased on eBay. I had stayed up late the night before, sewing on the loops that were only tacked on with yellow thread. I was surprised by this circumstance, considering the hat had been offered for sale at an American department store (its price tags were still attached). Was the buyer expected to decide whether to keep the decorative wool loops, or had a veil indeed been removed, as the seller suggested?

It’s an eccentric hat, and did not prove popular with all of my family (who have patiently borne my sartorial adventures over the years), but I love the tomato red, and its quaint shape. But worn at the wrong angle, the tilt hat does look like it has little antennas, as one of my sisters remarked in amusement! 

The leather trenchcoat is also vintage, 1970s, and was found on Etsy as a replacement for my original white leather trenchcoat, which has lamentably become quite worn. The wear makes the coat look like it’s dirty. Unfortunately the new coat has a bad habit of shedding tiny specks of white paint; I presume it has been redyed. This time I will take the advice of my drycleaner and have it oiled, to extend its lifespan. Hopefully that will also settle the dye. The leather at least is very soft and supple.

In the morning I chose to wear a cobalt blue DL top with the black wide-legged trousers, but by evening I had decided the effect of blue and red was far too gaudy. That evening I changed into a sedate ribbed charcoal grey Saba knit to go out for a glass of red with my friend Lulue.

Items:

Top: David Lawrence/Saba
Pants: Ming
Coat: vintage
Hat: Montgomery Ward, vintage 40s
Earrings: coral, handmade by me
Bracelet: from eBay
Ring: Autore
Watch: Kenneth Cole
Shoes: Diana Ferrari

Darling, Do Lunch!

Talking about ladies who lunched yesterday immediately reminded me of this very old Follow Me photoshoot. I love this! The photography, the fashion editing, the styling, the page design; it really puts me strongly in mind of Harper’s Bazaar’s heydey, when Alexey Brodovitch* was art director.

I particularly like the last four images – they could have been torn from a 60 year old magazine (not that I would do such a sacrilegious thing) rather than a 20 year old issue of the Australian magazine Follow Me. Yet the fashion is still so 80s: power suits and broad shoulders, chunky necklaces and tall hair wrapped in an Hermès scarf. There is even mention of a bodysuit.

The shoot takes its cue from the 1950s and Cristobal Balenciaga, whose visionary clothes will always be extraordinary, no matter the era they or their ilk are worn.

‘Taking a cue from the couture of the Fifties, fashion wraps up, Balenciaga-style. So slip on the gloves, a real hat, a flash of technicolour, and darling, do lunch!’

*Check slides 35-43 of the Lookbook “Bazaar 140th: Through the Years” for samples of Brodovitch’s work.

Click on images for larger versions.

Images from FOLLOW me, Feb/Mar 1988; Photography: Martyn Thompson; styling: Jayson Brunsdon.

Put On Your Metal

It’s funny how fashions come and go; there really is nothing new under the sun. I remember when metallic accessories were tacky, worn only by Toorak madams – wealthy ladies of a certain age who lunched – along with helmet hair and copious amounts of jewellery. Gold shoes were a particular abhorrence of mine.

And yet, here I am, a decade or so later, owning a pair of said gold shoes, trimmed in brown snakeskin. They are one of the few pairs of flat sandals I own. I like their thin, delicate soles; they make me feel a bit dainty.

As for gold and silver Glomesh (the Australian version of metal mesh bags): they are the quintessence of 70s disco and I have in my possession no less than three purses: the long clutch in this picture, a little silver pouch and a larger gold pouch. Add to that one gold mesh belt, and one silver that was bought from an American seller on eBay.

 The silver belt drapes so sinuously it’s like a caress on the skin.

The silver belt also works as a very slinky divalicious necklace, although it would best set off by a plunging neckline à la Jennifer Lopez’s famous green Versace gown. The silver belt drapes so sinuously it’s like a caress on the skin.

What is it about all this gold and silver that appeals to me now? I do prefer the glamorous 70s jetset connotations to vulgar 80s bling – Bianca Jagger, Studio 54, Halston – all that sort of thing. It’s an easy segue to the kind of minimalism I like: the silver belt/necklace would look fantastic with a white gown, hair pulled back, all futuristic and space-agey – 90s version rather than 60s.

But simply, it’s the shine I like – like a magpie I am attracted to it – and the cool touch of the cold metal as it warms up on your skin.

So shine, slink, decadence; as far from a Toorak madam as possible. 

Read about the tragedy of the bling-bag here.