Chintz Knits

Lidushka in Chintz :: Tejas // Ina’s 1969 // No flashLidushka looked too cute today in her floral print knit, with its slightly puffed shoulders. I immediately asked her if it was vintage, and she chuckled that it was from H&M – she didn’t wear vintage at all. It totally reminded me of 80s floral printed jumpers, although they were usually in pastel shades rather than these rich hues. Check out the original chintz here.

Lidushka’s Chintz Chest :: Tejas // Ina’s 1969 // No flash

The Grandmother’s Chest

I had been searching for an antique white cotton lace blouse for years. By antique, I mean the turn of last century. I had no particular reason for that bee in my bonnet, I just liked the idea of owning something that old, fragile, and hand-made.

I have also always liked lace, and unless you can afford couture, most lace today is made by machine – and even worse, using synthetic or poor quality thread. I particularly dislike that cheap lace made in China that trims all sorts of inexpensive garments, especially when it pils – ugh!

The store front (click for larger version)So while I was wandering the fascinating and twisty streets of Barcelona’s Barri Gòtic, I was thrilled to discover a vintage boutique, called L’Arca de L’Avia (The Grandmother’s Chest). Housed in what might have historically been storage rooms, the boutique is dominated by the stone arches overhead, so that one feels like one is entering a vast, subterranean treasure trove.

It really was like an Aladdin’s Cave, bursting with vintage stock – impossible to take it all in. At the back of the store was a bridal centre, where they made new, or altered old, gowns. They had a large collection of vintage veils and other bridal accessories.

The lingerie section had a few 1920s and 30s slips and nightgowns, as well as a large selection of Victorian white lace blouses.

To the left of the door was a section devoted to nineteenth and early twentieth century lingerie, including two racks full of white lace blouses. They were all delicate and beautifully made, and in pristine condition. The prices ranged from around €75–100, which I thought wasn’t too bad considering their quality. I would never even see anything like this in Australia. After exploring the rest of the store, I returned to them and found three I liked.

I would never even see anything like this in Australia.

Looking into the second chamber, which stored all sorts of haberdashery (vintage lace, buttons, feathers), and precious accessories in glass display cases, such as antique fans and purses.

After trying them on I couldn’t choose between them, and for such a relatively expensive purchase, I decided to consider them for a day or two. Returning on my last rainy afternoon in Barcelona, (pleased I was able to actually find the store again), I made my selection. There was only one tiny thing wrong with the blouse: the ribbon that pulled it tight at the waist was sewn down on one side of the placket. The helpful shop assistant exclaimed in dismay and told me she would fix it, if I could return in a couple of hours. Certainly I could, I assured her. I would come after a visit to the national art gallery, but before the Spanish guitar concert.

And that is how I brought home to Australia my little piece of Spanish treasure. (Here I am wearing the blouse.)

The Love Boat

Click images for larger versions

It’s a Seventies Vogue moment: skirts on a boat for that leggy windswept look – sweet and lovely by day, louche by night.

Prints are where it’s at for the daylight hours, all geometric checks and diagonal stripes. Don’t forget to pack a floppy hat and a scarf or two in contrasting prints. But black comes out for night: clingy jersey with plunging necklines and those pins once again bare.

“A short dress at night, the most glamorous way to look sexy, bare and leggy.” And capture the heart of a prince. Or three. 

Photographs: Ashenhurst, Australian Vogue, August 1973

A Hole Lotta Something

Last Saturday, after the fashion workshop on vintage fabrics, I decided to stop in the city on the way home and do some vintage shopping (but naturally) – in spite of the disagreeable, monsoon-like weather conditions.

I ventured into Retro Star and spent a pleasant hour or so, perusing the wares and trying on a few garments. But it was the orange and blue polkadot silk scarf wrapped around a mannequin belt-fashion that had captured my fancy.

There was only one problem: it had a little hole and pull in one end. I eyed it doubtfully. Was it worth paying $22 for a holey – albeit charming – silk scarf? After much dithering, I decided to purchase it, but I would present them with the hole and eye them expectantly. They discounted it to $15. Bargain!

Later that afternoon, after a chance meeting with a friend in Little Collins St, I was invited to partake of refreshment at a family gathering. I proudly showed my friend and new acquaintance my little polkadotted beauty – and then took several minutes to find the hole. “I’m sure there’s one somewhere here…”

It transpired that the hole is only visible when one pulls the fabric quite taut. My friends laughed with me. I call it a hole lotta bargain! 

Step Away From the Mangle

Vintage Vogue Pattern girls from A Dress A Day

Yesterday I attended a fashion workshop at Circa, a wonderful vintage boutique in Fitzroy, and learned how to identify vintage fabrics using the burn test and how to launder them. I used to call myself the queen of stain-removal, but there were plenty of things I didn’t know.

Washing is the worst thing you can inflict on vintage clothes, Nicole Jenkins of Circa told us. Silk, for example, will not stop at shrinking once the first time you wash it – every time you wash it, it will shrink a little more. (So I’m not putting on weight – that’s the good news!) Rayon crepe is the worst offender. It will shrink a lot if wet: something that started life as a size AU14 will shrink to a size AU10, so always dry-clean. Most – in particular 1950s or older – vintage silk garments should be dry-cleaned too.

Check out the cute wooden dolly pegs in this 1920s photo; image from Things Your Grandmother KnewWe heard an amusing anecdote about the Melbourne Cup in 1932. Apparently, many women were wearing rayon crepe dresses, and when it poured with rain (as it often does during Spring Racing Carnival), all their dresses shrank. (This was long before Jean Shrimpton’s time.)

Cotton and linen can stand a lot more rough stuff, especially lingerie and shirts, which would have been made for constant wear and regular washing. And of course we no longer use copper cauldrons, wringers and mangles, so hand-washing these more sturdy items will not ruin them (if they’ve lasted this long…). Still, it is always better to dry garments flat and in the shade to prevent fading from the sun.

Washboard and mangle; image from Just B Cuz (Flickr)

Wool is a much more sturdy fibre, and as most marks will brush off. Anything tailored should be dry-cleaned, although knits can be hand-washed, especially before storing away over summer. Moths will go straight for dirty spots in clothes, looking for protein to munch on. I use wooden balls impregnated with cedar oil to keep moths away, rather than the stinky regular mothballs. I make sure to keep them well away from the garments, however. Lavender is a delightful alternative.

Moths will go straight for dirty spots in clothes, looking for protein
to munch on.

Laundry trivia

• Vintage dyes are quite unstable, especially red, and prints, but Dylon’s run remover can help seemingly ruined garments.
• Don’t use a eucalyptus-based cleaner for elasticised items, as the oil will degrade it; use another product for your lingerie.
• 1940s shoulder pads can be full of all sorts of scraps – sawdust, soiled bandages (yes, really – shudder).
• Freezing is very good for silk: hand-wash, roll in towel to remove excess water, freeze, then iron.
• In an emergency, makeup smudges can be carefully spot-cleaned using makeup wipes (although launder asap, in case of bleach spots appearing later on); otherwise do not spot-clean.
• Spray vodka onto stains and remove body odour.
• To clean vintage fur, put the item in a pillowcase with a cup of bran and shake. The bran will pick up the dirt.
• Iron velvet inside out so pile goes into pile, rather than flattening out.

I love this article at Fashion Era if you’re looking for more detail on how to launder your precious vintage garments. Nicole’s blog at Circa is also full of interesting articles about very unexpected problems, accompanied by full colour photos. Happy laundering!