Rhoda Wager: Fine Wrought Jewels

CELEBRATING THE ROARING TWENTIES IN A SPECIAL SERIES

When I was at art college I discovered Greville St in Prahran, back when it was ungentrified, full of vintage stores and quirky boutiques. I used to browse among the jewels of Palm Beads – almost the only store from back then that is still open today. I bought an expensive ring – so far beyond my impecunious student budget that I had to put it on lay-by – that, the owner informed me, was inspired by Rhoda Wager, a jewellery designer of the 1920s.

So far, so fabulous, but I couldn’t find any information on her (the world wide web was in its infancy); not so now.

Rhoda Wager was born in London in 1875, attending the local art school and in the early nineteen-noughties she was studying under Bernard Cuzner, a talented silversmith. Late in 1913, she emigrated to Fiji, living on her brother’s sugar plantation, and then settled in Sydney in 1918, where she resumed jewellery-making.

A review of her work in 1925 stated ‘her work is wrought from beginning to end. Each flower, stem and leaf or berry is made separately and soldered on bit by bit'. Her favourite stones were opals and yellow sapphires, and she incorporated foliage (not Australian flora, as is often assumed) into her designs. As well as the standard jewellery items such as brooches, rings, pendants and bracelets, she also wrought belt buckles and spoons, personalizing them for individual clients.

A strong businesswoman, she designed, executed, marketed and sold her work herself. In 1928 she apprenticed her sixteen-year-old niece, Dorothy Wager, and trained her to work in the Arts and Crafts style. In 1946, Wager retired to Brisbane where she died in 1953.

She produced some twelve thousand pieces of jewellery during her career, and was much copied by other jewellers. Her work was so expertly designed however, that such copies were inevitably inferior.

My ring is such one modern example, made from sterling silver and blue glass that shines violet when it catches the light.

A Pose with Poise

CELEBRATING THE ROARING TWENTIES IN A SPECIAL SERIES

If ever there was a mad hat for a lover of chapeaux (moi), then this is it. Made from gilded straw and a sheaf of soft chocolate coloured ostrich feathers, it must surely have first been worn by some diva of the stage – like Erté’s still, elegant 1920s ladies, who are poised as they strike a pose. With something this enormous (nearly one metre wide) on my head, good posture and gliding movements are mandatory.

All that remains is an event to wear it to. I work part time at a theatre, and suggestions for Christmas party themes are currently being welcomed – fingers crossed whatever it may be I will somehow be able to work it.

I purchased the hat in a vintage store in Sydney, for the mean price of $33, and it was quite a task to convince the airline staff to let me take it home with me. Read about the adventure here. Scroll down for some of Erté’s precariously balanced ladies. 

Cirse, by ErtéThe Bird Cage, by ErtéAthena, by ErtéAt the theatre, ebony and white, by Erté

Lulu

Celebrating the Roaring Twenties in a Special Series 

Louise Brooks in Now We're In the AirThe quintessence of 1920s glamour for me must be the iconic silent film actress Louise Brooks. Cute as a button with her little helmet of black hair, she was best known for the Austrian Expressionist G. W. Pabst’s films Pandora’s Box (1929), Diary of a Lost Girl (1929) and Prix de Beauté (1930).

Born in America in 1906, at 19 she was a featured dancer for the Ziegfield Follies on Broadway; she signed a 5-year contract with Paramount in 1929. She starred in over 20 films, although many of them are sadly lost, and made her final film appearance in 1938. She hated Hollywood, and was a headstrong and difficult actress to work with, eventually leading her to be placed on an unofficial blacklist. This cut short her film career, but she had no regrets. She switched careers and began writing about film, also authoring a memoir Lulu in Hollywood.

Louise Brooks as a Ziegfield Follies dancerBrooks also helped popularise the notion of the independent, fast-living, sexually liberated flapper girl, socialising with the rich and famous (including William Randolph Hearst and Marion Davies) and collecting many lovers along the way. She was notorious for her ‘salty language’ and, amusingly, for vowing to never smile on stage or film ‘unless she felt compelled to’ (although she had a dazzling smile). Possibly it is her image and black bob that is most iconic however, the latter much copied still today.

It almost seems as though her life – albeit long – petered out. Married twice, childless, depressed, as an unsuccessful actress at 36 she felt that the only well-paying career for her was that of a call-girl. She dabbled in operating a dance studio, working briefly as a radio actor and a gossip columnist, and was for a few years a salesgirl in Saks Fifth Avenue. After that she was reduced to eking out a living as a courtesan. She died in 1985.

Still, she has inspired countless many creatives – writers, actors, musicians, artists – and continues to do so to this day. Once seen, who can forget that coy glance cast from under darkened lashes, those lush curves – and of course the indefinable air of doomed glamour? Not me. 

See more pics on the SNAP Facebook page.

Louise Brooks in The Canary Murder Case

Take Me Seriously

Or You’ll Seriously Be Sorry

It’s a pleasure to play kooky and sans smiles sometimes, I must say. Emily the Strange always stares levelly down the barrel of the lens, arms akimbo in challenge. I haven’t read the books, but I imagine she’s not actually sullen – but she’s serious, far left of centre and stands no nonsense. She’s not like other girls; she’s strange.

Yesterday, in a celebration of long hair before I chop-chop it off, I spent the day with twisted chignons above my ears. When I unravelled them in the evening I found a profusion of curls. My bangs are far too long too, and as I stared into the mirror I found myself thinking I looked like Emily the Strange – grown up and having a temporary fling with curls.

Here’s to all the strange and interesting and curly-haired girls out there – vive la différence!

Here’s another great portrait of her, with a real, live cat.

A Turn Up For the Boots

Pink Suede Boots :: Wonder // W40 // No flash

This is the first pair of shoes I bought from Solestruck. Candy pink, soft suede, low heel, ankle boot – all equal immediate walking comfort. That’s a bit of a turn up for the boots for me!

When you bookmark the Solestruck website, the description – their mission – reads ‘to rid the world of ugly shoes one pair at a time’. It makes me chuckle, not least because there really are some doozies on there. Shoes I am fairly sure we will gasp and shudder in horror at in about 20 years’ time. Our children, however, will think they are fab; real retro teensies style, and will raid our closets for vintage loot.