A Found Fairytale

There is something magical about beaded slippers. They are the shoes that princesses of faraway lands in fairy-tales wear. And this is a tale of Lost & Found long ago.

It was 1999 when these particular magical beaded slippers came into being in the house of Gucci, as though a fairy cobbler named Tom Ford simply waved his magic wand and – poof! – there they were. An Australian girl, not so much a princess, saw them in a magazine and swooned. Of course they were far beyond the reach of her humble purse, so she merely sighed and flipped the page.

That is, until she saw black and white copies – just as though they had leapt joyfully from the page and into her life – in the shoe store Mollini. They weren’t quite the same: the little heels were black satin rather than a contrasting blue, and there was no delicate sling back strap. There was a red and white pair too, but she decided she much prefered the classic black and white: they looked more Art Deco. So she reached deep into her credit card and carefully counted out the coins. She paid for the magical beaded slippers and took them home with her, where they lived happily ever after.

The End.

Click on image for larger version

The Bohemian History of the Polka Dot

Where do polka dots come from, and why do they have such a quirky name? As strange as it seems, the pattern is named for the dance of the same name.

In the mid nineteenth century, with the advent of machinery in textile factories, the spotted repeat pattern had come into fashion. Prior to this – in medieval times for example – dotted fabrics had not been worn, for without machinery it is difficult to create a spotted pattern with evenly spaced dots, and random spots were associated with disease.

Polka dotted smock top over black skirt by Balenciaga, ph Gordon Parks, LIFE magazine March 1951In the 1840s–60s, dancing the energetic polka was a craze that swept Europe. The dance is of Bohemian origin, associated with Poland and Czechoslovakia.  Manufacturers – being as sly then as they are today – wishing to cash in on this craze, named a plethora of unrelated products after the polka. There was even a polka pudding, a boozy confection of orange-water flavoured cream, drizzled with sherry polka sauce!

Two fashions collided, and thus the polka dot fabric was christened.

Godey’s Lady’s Book dubbed the dotty pattern the ‘polka dot’. The pattern was popular with both men and women. Soon there were polka curtains, gauze, jackets, hats, neckties, shoes and vests.

Mary-Jane Russell wearing Christian Dior, ph Louise Dahl-WolfeWhile the craze for naming everything under the sun after the polka eventually wore off, the name as it applied to the pattern did not. The polka dot pattern has gone in and out of fashion, and it can now be considered a classic, especially when rendered in black and white. A while back when I was researching artists’ smocks, I came across a 1951 photograph of a Balenciaga outfit featuring a polka-dotted smock top. It struck me as extremely similar to a vintage top I own, so here is my little homage both to Balenciaga and the polka dot.

Read more detailed histories of the polka dot pattern here and here, or view a slideshow featuring fashions from 1865–2010.

Marilyn Monroe in a polka dot swimsuit, 1951

Over The Top

I’ve been waxing lyrical over socks recently, namely all these over-the-knee socks I purchased online in recent weeks. And here they are! Aren’t they lovely?

The merino wool striped pair are from Free People, and all the others were bought from Asos. I made sure to buy socks that were, if not 100% (allowing for Lycra for a better fit and non-saggingness), mostly made from natural fibres – from cotton, wool and angora.

I am excitedly awaiting autumn so that I can wear them, but with the seemingly endless heatwave in Melbourne it looks like those days are still a long way off.

Bangle Arms

Celebrating the Roaring Twenties in a Special Series

I wonder if Nancy Cunard had really long, really skinny arms? Otherwise how on earth did she fit on so many bangles at a time? I love that look as seen in the 1920s portrait of her by Cecil Beaton (click here for my homage to the pair) – it is somewhat tribal; decorative without being frou-frou. I’m reminded as a child I had a fascination with those African tribal women who wore metal to rings around the neck ... except that bangles require no long-term commitment. 

I’ve wondered if some of Nancy’s bangles are really curtain rings or something, or if costume jewellers actually created extra large bangles that could be slid up the forearm? I can’t understand why they don’t do that now. My collection comes from all over: bone from India, wood and stone Vietnam, stone from Spain and vintage galalith (a type of plastic similar to Bakelite) from America. The only thing is, I don’t actually wear more than one at a time because I find them annoying. Hmm.

What I Actually Wore #0073

Serial #: 0073
Date: 23/07/2012
Weather: 16°
Time Allowed: 6 minutes

Put your hand up if you were scarred back in the 80s by taffeta? Although I was not quite old enough to have many occasions to wear this rustle-y – and often iridescent – fabric, I entered adulthood with a passionate hatred for the material. Then suddenly, last year I conceived a desire to own a taffeta skirt, or dress. Plaid taffeta was momentarily in fashion, and I managed to find this skirt on eBay for a fraction of the retail price.

Back in the Eighties, taffeta tricked out prom dresses with ruffles, bows, giant puffed sleeves, and ruching. You all know exactly what I mean. Who hasn’t seen pictures of bridesmaids’ dresses gone awfully wrong? But this little plaid skirt was unassuming in its subtle petrol blue and maroon checks, and I dressed it down even further with cable knit hemp stockings (much softer than wool – no itch! – and also an eBay purchase), and a bright wool knit. 

The shoes and hat were also eBay finds. I bought those peeptoes just before the world went wild for wedges – they were in such good condition I suspected the original owner had bought them by mistake, and never worn them. The wooden heel is rather heavy but it is so much nicer than cork (to my mind).

The shape of this floppy velvet cap makes me feel as though I ought to be sledding in Aspen or something. It’s vintage 1940s. I didn’t have much time to do my hair, so went for a low-maintenance pony-tail, and a hat is a perfect cover up for a boring hair day (as well as a bad-hair day). And the bonus? It keeps your head warm on a frosty morning!

Items:

Top: Kookaï
Skirt: Cue
Hat: vintage 40s
Hairclip: vintage
Earrings: Moyou
Bangle: souvenir
Watch: Kenneth Cole
Stockings: eBay
Shoes: Aldo