To Bra or Not To Bra

(A Pictorial Guide)

Lately I have been seeing a hideous sight on the streets of Melbourne. Women who, from the front, look perfectly presentable in their high-necked frocks. They pass you, and you glance back to check out the rear view of the dress you have just admired.

Shock! Horror! The dress is backless/low cut/features a keyhole cut-out/is criss-crossed with straps … and the woman is wearing a bra! What is worse is when the bra in question is grey with age. Even more heinous in evening dress than daywear.

Why? Why, why, why why? Why would anyone do this? It’s ghastly!

I am flummoxed, bewildered and most of all bothered.

There is nothing more elegant when a well-cut garment that is demure in the front is cut away in the rear, revealing a woman’s beautiful bare back. A woman who wears such a gown should be bold enough to dispense with the bra. If she is truly chic it will not even cross her mind to wear one. On the other hand, if she is that timid to go braless, then perhaps she should rethink her decision to purchase the gown. Period. Observe:

Yet another crime against chic is the clear plastic bra straps that attach to strapless bras. They are ugly. Do away with them. Even more frightening, it has come to my attention that one can purchase clear plastic straps which have been bedazzled! (Do I need to state: stay away from those tacky accessories unless you want to be mistaken for a grid girl?)

If my sage words are not enough to convice you, Ines de la Fressange, in her book Parisian Chic has this to say of them (under the heading of ‘Fashion Faux Pas’):

No-one ever gets used to them. A stylish visible bra is far sexier, and if you really want to wear a strapless dress or top, how about a strapless bra too?

So, wear the strapless bra as it is meant to be worn: strapless, under a strapless, or spaghetti-strapped garment. If it is a good quality piece of lingerie, and fitted correctly, it will hold you up. (Just remember not to jump up and down too much or something inadvertent and horrible may happen to you: scroll down to see.)

Double Indemnity

A few years ago in Vietnam I bought a black onyx ring. It was minimal, elegant, and cut from a single, smooth piece of stone. I adored it.

Not long after I returned home, while removing my jewellery in the bathroom before bed, I dropped the ring to the ceramic tiles underfoot. The result was devastating: my ring broke into two pieces! Although I tried to glue it back together, it (unsurprisingly) fell apart as soon as I slipped it on. Mournfully I placed the pieces in my jewellery box, unable to throw them away entirely.

Years later, I found another ring in Barcelona, and although it was not as fat and sleek as the first, I promptly purchased it. Guess what happened soon after I returned from my travels? Curses! You’d think I would have learned to be more cautious.

This time – in order to expunge my abysmal carelessness from my memory – I determined to find a replacement immediately. After a little wailing and beating of my breast, I turned to eBay. I located a seller in China who had more than ten onyx rings available. There was only one hitch: I wasn’t sure of my size.

A handy reference: ring conversion chart from World Ring MarketAustralian ring sizes are lettered. I couldn’t remember which finger was which size: N, O, P? The seller had US-sized 7s and 8s in stock. I found a ring conversion chart online that also indicated the diameter of the respective sizes, and measured the shattered remains of the old rings. Erring on the side of caution, I decided on the 8. If it was too big for my ring finger, I would wear it on the middle.

And since they were only $3 each, this time, to cover myself, I bought two!

They duly arrived in the post, and I was pleased to see that although they weren’t as wide as the original ring from Vietnam, neither were they as slender as their Spanish counterpart. Needless to say, I am treating these rings with more reverence.

Heart-Broken-Shoes

My heart is broken. So are two of my favourite pairs of shoes: one with a broken back, the other with a broken strap.

My regular shoe repairer examined the pair on the left, and pronounced that the shank of the right shoe was broken, and he couldn’t repair it, as a special machine utilising a magnet (which he didn’t own) would be required to extract the nail from the heel. He suggests a repairer in the city … who seems to have changed address – boo!

The left wedge sports a broken strap in the toe box. When I made its discovery, I dismissed the shoe as a lost cause – but maybe not? Not when you consider there would be a broken heart left in its wake? They’re still in good nick otherwise; I must try again. Fingers (and toes) crossed!

What I Actually Wore #0054

Serial #: 0054
Date: 28/11/2010
Weather: 16°, a cool and damp late spring day
Time Allowed: 10 minutes

This afternoon I was going to a birthday high tea at the National Gallery of Victoria. Pretty little macaroons, cupcakes and miniature sandwiches would be consumed, so what more appropriate outfit could there be than one 50s-inspired? Pistachio and chocolate seemed apropos colours for the theme of the event too.

The only real 50s item I am wearing is the sculpted bandeau headpiece, which I bought years ago at Chapel St Bazaar, a wonderful vintage emporium and a Chapel St institution. The skirt is finely and diagonally striped in green and white, and I wore a white beaded belt, as the skirt is a little loose around the waist. To update the look a little I wore super-high monster platforms and clomped off. (They always make me feel a little horsey, with well-shod feet!)

Items:

Top: Country Road
Skirt: Veronika Maine
Belt: vintage
Earrings: Camberwell market
Ring: Autore
Watch: Kenneth Cole
Hat: vintage
Handbag: vintage
Shoes: Zoe Wittner

What the New Year Hostess Wears (to Entertain Her Guests)

Eeeeee! I’m late, I’m terribly late to wish you a happy New Year dear SNAP readers! It’s been a scandalously busy fortnight – not a holiday period at all for me. And then yesterday I was running around all day marketing and cleaning my apartment and cooking in preparation for a little New Year’s Eve dinner party I was hosting.

I had stipulated to my guests to wear something shiny. I hadn’t bought anything new myself since I had so many shiny options to choose from. I let the weather dictate my choice and brought out my black sequin harem shorts (shine!), my new Dorothy shoes (glitter!) and because it was so terribly hot my coolest singlet top I could find, which happened to be yellow. To set it all off, I wore for the first time a pair of amusing red and yellow parrot earrings I had bought in Lisbon.

But once upon a time (and perhaps there still is somewhere in some country, but not in Australia) there was just such an indispensible and ladylike hostess’s garment called a Hostess Apron.

In actual fact, this fancy number was part of a Christmas gift from one of my friends, who tied it on for me – and who, being a textiles designer, also happened to have designed it. I remarked that it looked quite saucy as the hem of the apron was longer than my shorts. So I am proud to model my hostess apron for you here as I do the shimmy for my guests.

Happy New Year! (It’s still New Year somewhere, right?)