What I Actually Wore #0063

Serial #: 0064
Date: 09/03/2012
Weather: 26°
Time Allowed: 5 minutes

This skirt is super old. I bought it many years ago from Fat, and wore it a lot before I retired it. In the early autumn, I decided to give it another chance.

The underskirt is quite simple, a straightforward A-line, in light blue. What makes the skirt more interesting is the top layer – a kind of an apron – which is cloven into two separate pieces at the back (like a very long split). I always liked the little geometric pattern of the fabric, with circles on a checked background. The lining of the over-skirt is light red and white stripes.

The skirt is actually a little big, and always has been. To disguise this clothing flaw I wore the Zara red t-shirt tucked in, and a pale grey cardigan over the top, keeping the belt tied all day. The red mules are souvenirs from Dubai, and the ceramic jewellery is from Barcelona.

The jury is still out on the skirt, though perhaps I would like it more if it was not worn in such a tonal outfit. It needs some clash to spice it up, like a black t-shirt, or neon yellow. Some more experimentation may be in order – when I have more than five minutes to spare!

Items:

Top: Zara
Skirt: [I] Peck Your Pun
Cardigan: Sparrow, Anthropologie
Jewellery: Barcelona souvenirs
Watch: Kenneth Cole
Shoes: Bata

Springtime Fantasies

Vogue, April 1928, illustrated by George Lepape, from In Vogue (Rizzoli 2006)

I always enjoy looking at vintage fashion illustrations, especially of the nineteen-teensies and twenties. The linework is so elegant – sometimes austere in a geometric Art Deco style, and sometimes extravagant, such as the carefree handwriting that forms the masthead and the lady driver’s scarf on this spring 1928 cover. The colour palette is often subtle or minimal, the imagery fanciful and very romantic.

But what was inside? I’ve never seen one of these early issues in hard copy, and must refer to Norbeto Angeletti and Alberto Oliva’s book In Vogue (Rizzoli, 2006) for a few spreads (below). Condé Nast’s intentions for the magazine he proclaimed thus: ‘Vogue is the technical adviser – the consulting specialist – to the woman of fashion in the matter of her clothes and of her personal adornment.’

… the English were ‘considered to be the most elegant and to have the best taste, especially if they had noble titles.’

Back then, it was paramount to report on the London scene, as the English were ‘considered to be the most elegant and to have the best taste, especially if they had noble titles.’ This is rather amusing considering that the French Chambre syndicale de la haute couture is the holiest of holies today, and French women supposedly the chicest of all! The Paris fashion scene was still of course covered exhaustively. 

With the outbreak of World War I, French couture was in a state of crisis, as many designers and dressmakers joined the ranks or the Red Cross, and their ateliers were fashioning bandages and uniforms instead of fantasies. In America, this lead to an opportunity for local designers. Following are pages from the December 1914 issue showcasing the designs of Bendel, Gunther, Tappé, Maison Jacquelin and Bergdorf Goodman.

It’s lovely to see these pictorials, but for me, it is still the delightful cover artwork – French or not – that makes me sigh ooh la la! Enjoy these lovely springtime covers.

See more vintage Vogue covers in the Vintage Vogue 2011 gallery of my calendar from last year, or visit Miss Moss or Musie.

Vogue April 1910, illustrated by Helen Dryden, from my 2011 calendarVogue March 1916, illustrated by Helen Dryden, from In Vogue (Rizzoli 2006)Vogue April 1914, illustrated by Helen Dryden, from MusieVogue March 1914, from Musie

Spring Awakening

Spring has arrived. We’re in for some sunny weather in the next few days – oh joy! Shed those winter layers, put on those fluttery, bright silks and flit through the sunshiney days. Leave off your iPod for once and listen to the birds twittering, and the breeze fluttering through the cherry blossom. Breathe deep.

Maybe take your umbrella with you – just in case. Dear Melbourne. 

Winter Slumber

Poor old winter gets a bad rap. No-one likes it. When you look at the mythology and symbolism surrounding the cold season, it’s all doom and gloom, death and despair. And that’s really not fair.

In Greek mythology, it’s Demeter who, mother of Persephone who gets dragged off to hell for six months of the year, gets depressed over her daughter’s absence and thereby causes winter. On the other hand, for the warlike Welsh, two rival warriors of the Otherworld duel over the love of a beautiful maiden, symbolising a contest between summer and winter.

Numerous writers, such as CS Lewis in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, use winter to symbolise a lack of hope – in Narnia, it is always winter, but never Christmas. Other literary allusions include bleakness, isolation, regret and, the ultimate, death. Equally, spring could be likened to painful, bloody birth pangs rather than pretty birds twittering sweetly in the cherry blossom, and little bunnikins hopping about in the meadows.

But, to be literal, rather than literary, it is not the end: winter is the season when the earth rests from all her labours leading up to the harvest. There is something beautiful about the notion of the trees dropping all their leaves and slumbering peacefully, before the almighty effort of pushing out all those little green buds when spring comes.

The prettiest analogy I can think of is the caterpillar that builds its cocoon and waits all winter long for the warmth of the sun – and you know what happens next.

The Snow Maiden

The last day of winter is really here! The miracle of spring (and lots and lots of rain) is about to unfurl. But before we bid a final farewell, let’s sigh over this ice blue and white winter fantasy beautifully captured by Javier Vallhonrat for French Vogue in 1992.

Faintly resembling a pierrot with her white makeup, the inimitable Linda Evangelista, enveloped in ostrich feathers, brings to life a snow maiden out of a fairytale. Truly magical.