Rhinestones Are a Girl’s Best Friend

If you’re going to go fake, I say, do it with panache. I am talking here, of course, about jewels – gems, brilliants, bling, whatever you may call ’em. I can never resist shiny, sparkly things (except for actual diamonds – I don’t like those; like Holly Golightly I think they are dreadfully aging).

Out with subtlety: get the biggest, boldest sparklers you can find. Heck, buy the necklace and the matching earrings too (I did). Unrealistic colours are preferable, because we’re not trying to pretend these baubles are real. They’re fun, and they provide a great pop of colour to an outfit.

Nicole Kidman’s gems for the film Moulin Rouge are actually real, designed by Stefano Canturi, all 134cts of it, and worth a bomb (with six zeros). I saw this in the jeweller’s window in Melbourne a few years ago – amazing!The proper terms for fake bling are rhinestones, or diamantes. Once, imitation jewels were called ‘paste’. Paste stones were made from a colourless and wet glass paste with a high lead content that could be moulded or cut. And originally, rhinestones were rock crystals found in the River Rhine – who knew! Inspired by their popularity, back in 1775 an Alasatian jeweller had the idea to imitate diamonds by coating the underside of cut glass stones with a metal powder. The modern counterpart is Swarovski of course. Their crystals, also coated with special metallic chemical powders, are actually crystal glass, as opposed to the cheaper and more plebeian glass without lead that commoners make do with.

At $34.99 (plus postage), these might be more affordable: Aurora Borealis Pink Elegant Bridal Wedding Crystal Chunky Necklace Set 15"–18"Here’s how to spot a fake when shopping vintage (if it isn’t clear by its sheer, exuberant size and rollicking design, see example above): paste gems have air bubbles while natural stones do not; paste feels warm to the touch, since it is a poor conductor of heat; and being relatively soft, paste gems are unable to cut ordinary glass – so don’t bother trying to scratch your initials in window panes.

If you’re hankering after some trumpery jewels of your own you could do no better than visit the aptly named eBay shop Bonny’s Glitz and Ritz.

The Ugliest Hat in the World

Vogue Australia, August 2012I put it to you: is this the ugliest hat ever designed in the history of millinery?

Very well, I admit I have not seen every hat in creation, but this must be a strong contender to take the title. The vertical stripes, the lurid colour scheme, the wisps of hair trailing down the model’s face … it’s the Cheshire Cat in human form. Marc Jacobs what were you thinking?

More of Marc’s mad millineryThis is nothing graceful or elegant about this hat. The best that could be said about it is that it is humorous. But would you really want to run the gauntlet and wear this down the street? I suspect few would dare.

These gargantuan furry hats are an interesting contrast with the hats Jacobs turned out for Louis Vuitton. Also of exaggerated shape, taking their inspiration from the Edwardian era, they nevertheless create a far more elegant silhouette, especially in conjunction with the garments.

Louis Vuitton, A/W 2012Louis Vuitton, A/W 2012Louis Vuitton, A/W 2012

Louis Vuitton A/W 2012; click through to see more images
A cartoon satirising excessive use of feathers in hats at the turn of the twentieth century; from Hats, McDowellThe last time hats transmogrified into enormous caricatures, was back then at the turn of the century. High society had gone utterly mad for feathers, prompting the slaughter of exotic birds on a global scale until there was a public outcry and Queen Alexandra herself had to step in: By that time, feathered hats had run so completely out of control that tail feathers – or even a wing – were no longer enough. Fashionable Edwardian ladies frequently demanded the whole bird, stuffed and mounted, as the crowning glory of their hats. (Colin McDowell, Hats – Status, Style and Glamour, Thames & Hudson, 1992.)

Sadly, speaking as a hat-lover, I am not sure if Marc Jacobs is really serving the millinery industry and bringing hats back into fashion with these monstrosities. 

‘Chapeau de Chantecler’, caricature, 1910; from Hats, McDowell

Stocking Shocking Stockings

That creeping sensation …

This winter has been so cold. Ordinary thigh-high stay-ups just didn’t cut it on some of these nippy days, and finding that my stocking stocks were low, I decided to go on the hunt for interesting hosiery.

Cotton or wool stockings would be perfect, something with pattern or texture or bright colours. These types of tights are expensive in Australia, unless one happens to get lucky at sales time (usually in summer when stockings are the last things one is contemplating investing in), so I decided to try eBay.

I struck gold in a wool pair for $10, and fantastic cabled wool/hemp stockings in two different shades of grey for $15 each, all from Japan. I also flung in three pairs of opaque 80 denier ombre stockings: espresso, charcoal and cobalt – less than $4 each from Korea.

But … CAVEAT EMPTOR!

I thought I had read the fine print, I really did. I mean, I really did read it. All the stockings, according to the measurements and sizes listed, were supposed to fit me. Yet I failed to take into account that they had been manufactured for an Asian market that is typically slim and delicate.

When the first pair arrived, I was nonplussed to find the size tag read ‘XXXL’ …

When the first pair arrived, I was nonplussed to find the size tag read ‘XXXL’. When I tried those on, I found they would barely fit a pygmy, let alone a petite Japanese girl: the gusset reaching my knees. They languish in my drawer.

Then the ombré tights arrived, looking pretty in their packaging – until I took them out and discovered they were sheer 12 denier stockings, and the ombré effect is barely visible except perhaps under a magnifying glass. After filing all my nails, and with very careful easing up, I managed to draw on the espresso pair all the way without ripping them. I wore them to the office but unsurprisingly developed a run that very afternoon. Into the bin with those!

I do love these charcoal coloured wool and hemp stockings, despite their one flawThe fabulous wool/hemp wonder stockings – one pair in charcoal, the other in grey – looked gorgeous and promising. They did not itch in the slightest, but unfortunately they were also a little short in the leg. I tried washing and stretching them with little effect. Desperate, I wore them anyway.

They slowly drive you insane throughout the day as they slide down by tiny increments …

Do you know how horrible it is to spend a day in slightly short stockings? They sag, and they bag. They slowly drive you insane throughout the day as they slide down by tiny increments.

I managed to fob off one unworn pair on a shorter friend (whom they just fit), but the first pair I kept since I had stuck one finger through the top in frustration while tugging them up. Eventually I resorted to that old childhood trick: I wore a second pair of undies over the stockings. Eureka! The stockings stayed up, my legs stayed toasty.

Burned, but lesson learned.

What is a Cardigan?

A tutorial in pictures

A keen eye will notice the distinct lack of an opening down the front of this garment, and the sharp intellect will correctly interpret this as most definitely NOT a cardigan. What is a cardigan? This would seem a rhetorical, nay, somewhat superfluous question. For does not everyone (in the English-speaking world) know what is a cardigan? Apparently not.

Quite a while back I purchased a ‘cardigan’ on eBay. It was quite pretty, a lilac-coloured wool knit cut in a kimono style with silk butterfly sleeves. The photos were not the best quality, but I neglected to cross-question the seller as to whether this garment really was a cardigan, with buttons opening all the way down the front. When it duly arrived in the mail I discovered, in some astonishment, that it was not, in fact, a cardigan at all, but a top with decorative buttons down the front.

When I queried this discrepancy with the seller, she insisted that Witchery (an Australian high-street chain store) had described it thus. I think not. But the seller refused to give any ground, and I was quite annoyed.

Observe the opening down the front of the garment, punctuated regularly with buttons. This undoubtedly IS a cardigan.Dear old Wikipedia explicitly states that a cardigan is a type of knit shirt with an open front, differentiating itself from a pullover, which must be ‘pulled over’ the head to be worn.

Named after the 7th Earl of Cardigan who was a British officer during the Crimean War (1853–1856), the garment was modelled after the wool waistcoat officers wore at this time.

That’s pretty clear, huh? No more confusion. Go forth and cardi-up.

Look ma, no buttons! But it’s STILL undeniably and recognisably a cardigan.

Here Comes the Princess … Bride

Princess Bride :: Loftus // DC // No flash

This pretty little lace headpiece was a recent Etsy purchase. It is vintage 50s. I didn’t notice until later that the description included the word ‘bridal’. Ooops. I just bought it because I love lace, and was planning to wear it come spring.

The seller also suggested it was Renaissance inspired, and it was not until I tried it on that I saw she was right. I feel a Botticelli moment coming on – I have always loved his painting Primavera.

Sandro Botticelli’s Primavera (c. 1482)