Archive
- Behind the Screens 9
- Bright Young Things 16
- Colour Palette 64
- Dress Ups 60
- Fashionisms 25
- Fashionistamatics 107
- Foreign Exchange 13
- From the Pages of… 81
- G.U.I.L.T. 10
- Little Trifles 126
- Lost and Found 89
- Odd Socks 130
- Out of the Album 39
- Red Carpet 3
- Silver Screen Style 33
- Sit Like a Lady! 29
- Spin, Flip, Click 34
- Vintage Rescue 20
- Vintage Style 157
- Wardrobe 101 148
- What I Actually Wore 163
The Bunny Ears Have It
Showgirl Barnum Bailey, 1946There is nothing so much fun as a dress-up party – sartorially speaking that is. It’s the perfect excuse for adults to revisit their childhood. And what fun to be a circus performer – you get to dress up every day and people pay you for it! Just take a look at these chicks from the 1940s and 50s: that’s circus chic with a touch of glamour. I think the bunny ears have it though.
See lots more at Retronaut.
Performer Lottie Brunn, 1949
Aerialist Pinito del Oro, 1953
Circus people, 1955
Circus Showgirl, 1950
Just the Right Side of Purple
Ah, that lovely shade of blue somewhere between violet and blue. Real periwinkle flowers of the myrtle herb range in shades from a rather fake candy pink that makes my teeth hurt, to lovely celestial blues, and hues just on the wrong side of purple. Wikipedia places it exactly at #ccccff which is a disgusting sickly sweet lilac colour. I’m putting it somewhere like #6989e5.
From left: hyacinths (from edenbrothers.com); periwinkle (from flowerinfo.org); hydrangeas (from Wikipedia)The first recorded use of periwinkle as a colour name in English was in 1922, although it seems to be used more often in American English than Australian in my somewhat limited experience – I only discovered this evocative name fairly recently via Etsy. I would have formerly associated the shade with hydrangeas, or hyacinths – both flowers I love and certainly more majestic looking than the humble myrtle herb.
The common periwinkle, a marine molluscThere is also a little marine gastropod – or mollusc – that moonlights under the name of periwinkle. It is pointy and cute looking, and apparently a rather tasty sea snail. It is believed that they have been a common food source in Scotland since 7500 BC (where they are called simply winkles), and are considered a delicacy in Africa and Asia today. They were introduced to North America in the mid nineteenth century, but I don’t believe they have emigrated to Australia as yet.
Fashion Notes
My lovely 30s style blouse came from Rosebud store Vintage Now. By Melbourne label Kinki Gerlinki, it is made from white silk, and I fell in love with the polka-dotted pattern of playing card suits – too sweet! There is a little ruffle down the front closure. The only drawback was the fact the belt was missing, but I soon fixed that.
The velvet bandeau is vintage 50s, and I utterly fell in love with it just for its colour when I stumbled across it at Etsy store Izzy’s Vintage Garden. The chandelier earrings I bought in Bijou Brigitte, a cute jewellery boutique in Lisbon last year – they are just cheap tin, but they create a lovely circusy tinkle when I wear them. The belt I made myself from vintage Swiss ribbon and a refurbished rhinestone vintage buckle, and the ring is almost vintage too, being a repro of 1920s jewellery designer Rhoda Wager.

A Periwinkle Gallery
Here is a gallery of other periwinkle tinted things that also look almost good enough to eat.
(Left) Buttons from Etsy store Becall Jewels (sold); (right) Leaf series necklace in periwinkle blue by Jess Dare, from http://jessdare.com/w/leaf-series/43
(Clockwise from left) Banjo & Matilda top in periwinkle, available in other colourways at www.banjoandmatilda.com; Macau cushion in periwinkle, from www.ecochic.com.au; vintage dress from Etsy (since sold) seen at Oh So Lovely Vintage at ohsolovelyvintage.blogspot.com.au
The jaw-dropping Mondrian Soho, New York, inspired by Jean Cocteau’s La Belle et la Bête
A Heavy Blow
Back in the day, before air conditioners, before electricity, the elegant lady who wanted to keep her cool wielded a fan. The hotter it was, the bigger the fan. Fanning yourself with one of these babies was a good workout too. It was also an excellent method for shooing off flies and other unwelcome pests.
Blue Ribbon
This past winter I fell in love with a 30s style white silk blouse by label Kinki Gerlinki, from the Victorian boutique Vintage Now. It was patterned with periwinkle blue playing card icons – hearts, clubs, spades and diamonds, but sadly it was missing a belt. Rather than simply finding a modern belt to fit, I decided to take a vintage approach.
Since I was quite on a periwinkle blue kick at the time, I purchased some gorgeous vintage 30s/40s Swiss velvet ribbon from Etsy store Fini Ribbon. All it needed was a vintage buckle. I found that at Wee Sparklies, also on Etsy. Shop owner Carmen refurbishes vintage jewellery, and was sweet enough to include a second buckle as a present (“Oops, it fell into the package,” she told me).
Once both pieces of the belt arrived from America, I put them together. Of course, I might have known the buckle would be too heavy for the ribbon, but I found stick-on Velcro dots that I adhered to the end of the belt. Not the most elegant of solutions, but at least they are invisible, unlike other closures that I may have had to sew on.
The belt looks very sweet on the blouse, and finally Melbourne’s weather is warming up enough so that I can wear it!
Floral frame courtesy of The Graphics Fairy.
The Case of Bell vs. Pill
Background image: watercolour by Sonia Delaunay
While clearing out my closet in the past weeks, I came across this curious little hat in a hatbox full of hats I cordially dislike. For years I have kept them because they are interesting or strange. It was time to decide on their fate, and also photograph them for posterity (thereby freeing me of the guilt of casting them off like an old shoe).
I originally purchased this particular cream hat because it was somewhat reminiscent of the 1920s with its close-fitting bell-like shape. (Cloche means bell in French.) However, it was extremely tight-fitting, and I only wore it on one or two occasions. I had a strong suspicion that it was in fact not a 20s repro, but a 1960s pillbox, and it was meant to perch on top of the head – or ought perhaps be stuffed with a beehive.
Background image: 1960s wallpaper
The 1960s are my least favourite fashion era …
The 1960s are my least favourite fashion era. In particular I dislike most 60s hats. Shapes in fashion besides the aforementioned cloche and pillbox include bubble toques, knitted skull caps, berets, newsboy caps, floppy wide-brimmed hats and long scarves that were wrapped and tied around the head. I admit to two berets and one newsboy cap (which I don’t really like much actually – I feel like a train-driver wearing it) and one or two others, but pillboxes are loathsome.
In this case of bell vs. pill, Princess Tatiana rules in favour of bell. Although the hat is still too small and unflatteringly helmet-like, so it will be sentenced to a week of community service on eBay. Case closed.

