Good Fortune

Kitty, my Canarean friend, recently brought back from Singapore the cutest little present for me: one of those little fold-up hooks that preserves one’s handbag from the perils of restaurant or barroom floors. It is inlaid with mother-of-pearl, painted with lotus blossoms in red.

Suspended from it is one of my most favourite handbags, black, in the crinkle patent leather I like so much. I found the bag in a second hand Red Cross boutique that occasionally sells high quality new items donated by anonymous brands.

It’s so soft and pliable, wearing very well over the last two years (although I don’t use it in the warmer months, black being too heavy). It’s pretty plain too – no obvious branding, which is what I prefer – and it has several compartments inside, making it so easy to organise the contents, and a zip pocket on the outside for my keys. It’s 39cm across the base, and 25cm high (not including the straps), so a perfect size for a day bag, and at $75, it was a steal.

The crinkle patent reminds me of a vintage 60s bag I had when I was a student. It was a classic purse shape, but elongated, with a big snap closure that was forever flipping open – not very secure! Alas it was not leather; the crinkly vinyl eventually started peeling, and the bag was destined for the bin.

Fortunately, my bag hook will preserve this handbag from such an unhappy fate.

Darling and Daring

This late 40s little peaked hat is adorable! When I saw it on eBay at Tarnished Past Vintage Hats, I fell for it immediately and decided I had to have it. Fortunately no-one else felt the same and I had no rivals in my bidding. Is that really because it’s totally crazy and only a mad hat lady would wear it, or because it’s too daring for this conservative hat age? (But go tell that to young Princess Beatrice.)

It’s made from synthetic grosgrain in dark blue and ivory. I love the stripe effect, perfect for a nautical summer theme. Happily, the milliner had the good sense to create a curve at the back – that softens the severity of the conical shape and gives it a playful chic. Darling and daring! 

The Weakest Link

Procrastination is the thief of timeThis is a tale of two necklaces, both owned by my friend Sapphire. Both were presents from friends. Both broke. In both cases the weakest link was the spring bolt clasp. Since I had made one of them (the one with the pearl and white agate), I offered to repair it. I took it home a few months ago and promptly forgot about it.

Then I saw her wearing her silver nameplate. She had stopped wearing it months ago because it was broken, she’d told me. Now I learned that it had not been fixed after all, she was just continuing to wear it with a broken clasp. And then, laughing, she admitted the necklace had actually broken years earlier!

I rolled my eyes, took it home with me, and the following night repaired both … in about five minutes.

The lesson here is the weakest link was us!

Enough to Tickle You Pink

(Detail) The sweetest little powder puff by Butler & Wilson, only £12.50 … in 1974.

Between the 70s theme of my last post, and reading in the latest issue of Australian Vogue that the 70s are back in fashion (again), I decided to go to the source: a modest pile of original Vogues of that glamorous decade that I have in my possession.

In 1974, British Vogue published two issues in September; I have the issue dated the 15th. There weren’t any ‘glamazonian’ fashion editorials, but these two beauty images shot by Norman Parkinson caught my fancy. I love their ethereal look, the pale styling, the classic 70s hairstyle on the blonde – centre parted and straight on top, curly on the bottom. And how about that bare breast, eh? Risqué, softly seductive, yet sweetly innocent.

Click on image for larger version.

Butler & Wilson’s ‘ladylike powder puff’ with its porcelain head is adorable, a gorgeous piece to take pride of place on one’s dressing table. At £12.50 I’d totally snap that up. Let me do some quick calculations – or rather, punch in some figures on an online calculator … The equivalent today is £91.08, or in Australian dollars, $138.57! Woah!

That’s enough to make me blush. 

Photos: Norman Parkinson, British Vogue, September 15th, 1974

What I Actually Wore #0051

Serial #: 0051
Date: 20/11/2010
Weather: forecast 20°, a mild day turns quite cool by evening
Time Allowed: 5 minutes

I race home from work and rush to ready myself for Lulue’s birthday dinner. French girl has picked a French restaurant (par naturellement). I picked out a vintage 70s pink and white polka-dot dress, and after that the accessories were easy. I found the dress in the window of a Vinnies in Brisbane: candy-pink with white polka-dots! Sunray pleated skirt and collar! How could I go past that? I didn’t of course. The saleswoman smiled and said the dress had been put in the window just that morning. She had prophesied to her colleague that it would be snapped up quickly.

I decided to go for a Seventies vibe, with vintage accessories and eyes made-up with cream eye-shadow, 70s style blush and shiny pink lip gloss. My hair was wavy from being in a plait all day, but it would have been perfect if I had planned ahead and given myself a centre part for the day. 

The odd little gold metal earrings are clip-ons, with slinky chains dropping from a flat disk. The clips are murderously painful, and I have to take them off before the end of the night.

I had bought the little handbag fairly recently in another charity shop. It is hard white plastic with snakeskin panels on both sides and a long gold chain strap. I had spotted it in the counter at the shop, but upon enquiry learned that another lady had claimed it and was wandering leisurely about, browsing whilst she decided if she wanted to fork out for the bag. It was expensive for an op-shop ($50 or so), but I had fallen in love with it. My determined lingering must have psyched the other woman out, because she finally decided against the purchase.

I topped the all that pink with a taupe Montana-design linen coat that my sister had made me, and little slingbacks.

Items:

Dress: Knightsbridge, vintage 70s
Coat: Montana, Vogue designer patterns 
Earrings: vintage 70s
Bag: vintage 70s
Shoes: Diana Ferrari