The Great Escape

One of my tearsheet books is full of travel stories ripped from fashion and décor magazines over many years. It’s a great inspiration and escape just to flick through the pages. Most of the locations are exotic: countries of the Middle-East, the Far East, and Africa – cultures as different as possible from the one I grew up in, in Australia (as much as it is a melting pot).

In particular, these black and white images by Patrick Demarchelier in a 90s photoshoot for British Vogue are wonderful. The location is Egypt, and the model is Tatjana Patitz. It is not so much the clothing that fascinates me but the evocative backdrops, redolent of mystery and exotic flavour. … Although I am not sure if it would be recommended for a lone woman traveller to sit down at a café table with two men in a Muslim country. There are obviously different rules for models. Still, it makes me dream.

Click on images for larger versions. 

A Neapolitan Flavour

Strawberry, vanilla, chocolate: the colours of ice-cream in my childhood. Chocolate was always coveted by my sister Star and I; vanilla a poor substitute; and strawberry only grudgingly accepted if there was nothing else on offer.

Sometimes, to disguise the unlikeable strawberry flavour (too sugary, and tasting nothing like strawberries in my opinion), I would allow the bowl of neapolitan to melt a little and then I would vigorously swirl the flavours together. Then, ‘Neapolitan’ was synonymous with the word ‘ice-cream’, and I never wondered about the origins of its name.

There is one word for these neapolitan-flavoured leather and patent leather Poetic Licence ‘Romance Pumps’: DELICIOUS!These striped blocks of ice-cream were so named after their presumed origins in Naples, Italy. Many Neapolitan immigrants introduced their many-flavoured frozen desserts to the American public in the late nineteenth century. Most likely chocolate, vanilla and strawberry became the standard flavours due to their popularity.

Here is a mouth-watering description for ‘Neapolitan Icey Cones’ from 1894:

These are prepared by putting ices of various kinds and colors into a mold known as a Neapolitan ice box, which, when set and turned out, is cut into slices suitable for serving. However small the pieces, the block should be cut so that each person gets some of each kind. They are generally laid on a lace paper on an ice plate. Four or five kinds are usually put in the mold, though three sorts will do.

The following will serve as a guide in arranging: First, vanilla cream, then raspberry or cherry or currant water; coffee or chocolate in the middle; the strawberry cream, with lemon or orange or pineapple water to finish. A cream ice flavored with any liqueur, a brown bread cream flavored with brandy, with a couple of bright-colored water ices, form another agreeable mixture. Tea cream may be introduced into almost any combination unless coffee were used. Banana cream, pistachio, or almond cream with cherry water and damson or strawberry water are other options.
[Source: Wikipedia]

Yum! I think I need to invest in an ice-cream maker next summer.

Check out a few more ice-creamy pictures in the Out-takes & Extras gallery.

Home-Made Buns

To honour International Star Wars Day, SNAP brings you this homage to Princess Leia’s buns. 

BEHIND THE SCENES OF PRINCESS LEIA'S CAPTURE BY LORD VADER

During the battle when the Princess Leia is captured by Darth Vader’s imperial troops, her Royal Hairdresser is killed. The Princess has no choice but to go on without him.

However, in this extremity, she knows that she cannot wash her hair, for there will be no-one to wind up her buns again. Undoubtedly, it will not matter, as Lord Vader will probably have her executed anyway.

But to her consternation, she is rescued by the impetuous Luke Skywalker and that mercenary but confoundedly handsome scoundrel Han Solo.

Princess Leia determines that the buns must stay in until they are safely back in the bosom of the Rebel Base and some minion can be fetched to re-do them. But finally, when she at last has the opportunity to wash her lank locks, no suitable hairstylist can be found. Princess Leia decides to attempt the buns herself. 

The result is not happy. In fact, her buns are half-baked.

The Force forbid Han see her like this! Always pragmatic, Princess Leia decides it’s time to part ways with her outré ear-muffs and goes for braids instead.

A Sorry Selection of Sinnamay Sculptures

British Vogue, c.1990; click on image for larger version

What better time to discuss ‘aristohats’ than just a few days after the Royal Wedding? It should come as no surprise to my regular visitors that I love hats – particularly vintage chapeaux. However, I was sorely disappointed in the fare on offer on Friday.

What a sorry collection of sinnamay sculptures! Nearly all of the hats were constructed from this gauzy plant fibre, and the trim – be it feathers, antlers, horns, wriggling tentacles, or gargantuan loops – was almost token. Everyone was wearing virtually the same hat – in a different colour. Boring. And almost EVERY hat was worn dangling from the forehead. What was with that? Did they all have the same stylist?

I found many of the outfits even more of a yawn. What was with all the monotone dressing head to foot? And so many conservative, sensible suits? Boring, boring! Were the guests really – as my friend Lulue suggested tongue-in-cheek – given a sartorial rulebook?

Everyone was wearing virtually the same hat – in a different colour

For all the controversy Philip Treacy’s hat for Princess Beatrice has provoked, at least it seems to have some concept behind it, rather than consisting merely of a sinnamay base, decorated with a bit of trim.

The hats in this page (top) ripped from a British Vogue circa the early 1990s look more interesting – or could it be just Lawrence Mynott’s lovely illustration style that makes them look so gorgeous? (I really like numbers 5, 7 and 8.)

Interestingly at the time this article was written, Philip Treacy was fresh out of the RCA, and the leading British milliners were Frederick Fox, Graham Smith and Philip Somerville. David Shilling states that ‘he designed nothing silly for spring’. But if you can't be silly in spring, when can you be?

The Bridal Trousseau

In the days that young girls were launched into society with the intention of catching a husband, a strict observance of rules governed the contents of their wardrobes. White and pink were the most popular colours for girls just out of the schoolroom; pearls were suitable – flashy colourful stones were not.

It follows that upon a young lady’s engagement a whole new wardrobe could be planned: her bridal trousseau. Safely married, she was able to wear more daring gowns and dashing colours, and her new station in life required that she should be suitably attired for every occasion.

upon a young lady’s engagement a whole new wardrobe could be planned

Trousseau comes from Old French, and is a diminutive of trousse – so ‘little bundle’ it is. Traditionally it included household linens as well as lingerie and clothing and other accessories for the new bride. The trousseau was stored in a ‘wedding chest’ – or ‘hope chest’ as it became later known – and the collection of these expensive items was begun many years earlier.

For the (presumably wealthy) Victorian lady, these would include ‘velvet dresses – with thousands of dollars worth of lace flounces to be looped over skirts; walking dresses; ball gowns; travelling dresses in differing fabrics; evening robes in Swiss Muslin; linen dresses for the garden and croquet; dresses for horse races and yacht races; dresses for dinner; dresses for receptions and parties…’ [Source: Lights and Shadows of New York by James McCabe, 1872. For more info click Reference at the end of the story.]

Don‘t forget the heart-flocked stockings!That was then… what of now? Most brides already own a houseful of linens, but undoubtedly they could find more room in their wardrobe for a few sundry pieces of frivolous lingerie – special things to wear on their wedding night; or for pretty dresses and shoes to wear on their honeymoon. And what better occasion to indulge in some beautiful clothes?

I remember the delightful time I had once assembling a wardrobe for a glorious summer holiday: I packed those silk party frocks and silver sandals so carefully! I did, however, leave room for shopping.

There is one new bride today who would be able to rival these expensive Victorian brides, but I suspect the contents of HRH The Duchess of Cambridge’s luggage would be less ostentatious, and a whole lot more modern and practical – yet ever elegant, as evidenced at her wedding.