Roses, Sweet and Red

This rose headband by Morgan & Taylor is the sweetest little trifle I found the other day in a charity shop.

I had taken my niece out op-shopping (at her request) before I night out of dinner and the theatre, and it was I in fact who unexpectedly had the bonanza haul. I found this headband on the front counter while browsing for last minute finds to add to the stockpile.

“Isn’t this sweet?” I cooed to my niece, Rosie-Cheeks, while I simpered in the mirror. She laughed aloud at my antics, and declared that she liked it.

I’ve toughened it up here with a white leather shell top, but I think I’m still missing a few thorns.

When Needle and Thread Don’t Cut It

Sometimes, when something sinister occurs to a beloved accessory, a needle and thread just won’t cut it.

Such as when one is wearing a new favourite wooden necklace of rings all linked together, and one rises from one’s desk suddenly without realising said necklace has hooked around a protuberance in one’s drawer, and said wooden links … SNAP!

Tragedy!

Selleys Multi Grip to the rescue! A dab here, and a dab there, and one’s wooden necklace is ready to adorn one’s neck once again. Hooray for Selleys, your friendly household glue.

Shades of grey-blue

The dictionary will tell you that French blue is an ultramarine pigment, originally prepared from powdered lapis lazuli. Modern interior decorators however have a very different view. The generally accepted description is a chic, almost sombre shade of grey-blue. It is sophisticated, rather than girly.

Bleu de France: R49 G140 B231 exactlyBut what makes this shade of blue specifically French? According to Wikipedia its name is derived from the shade of blue associated with the heraldry of French kings since the 12th century. Referring to antique paintings, this is an ultramarine blue as in the French national flag of today. A brighter shade of this same blue is the ‘Bleu de France’ that was once the national racing colour of France. It is as clear as a summer sky.

An online search of images will produce many shades of blue that could also be variously described as wedgewood, periwinkle, petrol, aquamarine, ultramarine, pale blue and, to be tongue-in-cheek, even business shirt blue!

My very sweet vintage 40s hat of double bows, bought from the eBay store Tarnished Past Vintage Hats, is made from wool felt, with a bit of mink trim. The netting is trimmed along the edge with tiny light blue felt squares. 

Various shades of French blue you’ll find in an online search, including the French kings’ heraldry

What I Actually Wore #0050

Serial #: 0050
Date: 20/10/2010
Weather: forecast 20°, a gorgeous spring day
Time Allowed: 10 minutes

I am working in the Department of Education for a couple of days, and when one has to cleared by security before one can enter the building, it seems to behove one to dress nicely.

It is a lovely morning, and I decide to wear an easy vintage 50s belted green silk dress bought from a vintage boutique in St Kilda. I was attracted by the print when I first saw it many years ago, and always receive compliments whenever I wear it.

However, this morning it turned out not to be so easy to find a jacket to wear with the dress. Nothing seemed to match. I finally went with a vintage 80s cream linen bolero style because the balloon sleeves fit nicely over the loose sleeves of the dress; both sets of sleeves are elbow-length. (It’s a trifle too yellow for the dress, so I have not included it in this photoshoot.)

The shoes are snakeskin – I pick those because their flecked pattern echoes the print of the dress. I look so respectable I make it through security without a hitch.

Items:

Dress: vintage
Earrings: Moyou
Rings: from Dittoday
Watch: Kenneth Cole
Shoes: Zomp

The Crazy Dress

A few summers ago I pounced on a silk Scanlan & Theodore dress in the Albury Salvos. Visiting my niece in the country, I was skeptical about her pronouncement of the wonders waiting to be discovered in this opportunity shop. But this dress alone justified her grandiose declaration.

There was the small matter of just how the very long ties should be woven through the holes in the bodice to form straps. I would figure that out later, I decide. This dress was undeniably a bargain!

On our return to her house, I puzzled over the ties. The seams and tag on the dress are misguiding. But summer was over and I didn’t have an opportunity to wear it. Next year, I promised myself.

Once more the ties confounded me

The following summer, I pulled the frock out. Once more the ties confounded me. In a hurry, I was forced to abandon the project for a garment that did not require an industrial design degree to fasten. Summer passed.

Having hung in my closet for two years, I finally decide to do a photoshoot of ‘the crazy dress’, as I have come to call it. I wrap the straps in all the crazy configurations I had attempted in the past. While I am doing so, I inadvertently lose my grip: the bodice slips sideways. The hole through which the straps are inserted is now in the centre of my chest.

The penny drops.

It’s March, but it’s a very warm Saturday night for autumn. I wear the dress at last to the Moomba Carnival.