Replicating Rachael

I always loved that scene in Blade Runner when Deckard scans the photograph and enlarges and enlarges to find one of the replicants reflected in a mirror. Here’s my attempt in my tiny bathroom.Before I cut off my hair last October, I decided to do a few dress-ups that required long hair. As I had also recently acquired a 70s-does-40s black crepe dress (complete with rhinestone brooch on the left shoulder), the time was ripe for a little homage to Sean Young’s Rachael in Blade Runner.

Tools for becoming RachaelSuch a tease …The first thing to do was tease my hair, which is always a difficult task because my hair is fine and soft and tends to flop pretty quickly. I don’t know – maybe I’m just not hard-core enough with my teasing and hairspray. I always shudder at doing such violence to my hair, and the thought of combing it out afterwards makes me chicken out from going all the way. I created some rather modest ‘boofs’ (that’s Aussie slang for big hair): big puffs on either side of my centre parting.

An important step in the nail polish drying process: running waterRed nail polish was required (Revlon Fire & Ice); a dunk under cold running water speeds up the drying process. The super-fun part of the makeup process was using my Majic instant eye shadow, which reminds me of that scene in The Fifth Element where Milla Jovovich uses a Chanel product to instantly apply some pretty cool eye makeup. Lots of black smudgy eyeliner and some browny-pink lipstick with some gloss over the top finished the look.

Channelling Rachel via Leeloo with Majic instant eye shadowSmudge that eyeliner, roll back that hairI don’t own any enormous-shouldered jackets similar to Rachael’s sharp jacket – I eschew shoulder pads almost entirely – except for a fitted jacket from the early 90s by old label Blasé, which is also secondhand. A rolled-up piece of office paper simulates Rachael’s cigarette. But the most important part is replicating Rachael’s defiant, dead-eyed stare just before Deckard cross-examines her.

The thing that always amused me in the film is when Rachael takes down her perfectly coiffed, smooth hair in Deckard’s apartment, and suddenly it’s corkscrew curly! How does she do that? Is it a replicant thing – they can curl their hair at will? Because – barring having a hairdresser on hand at all times – that would be a handy skill to have. 

Princess Tatiana à la Rachael

A Mille-Feuille of Crin

Mousketeer :: Wonder // Ina’s 1935 // No flashWhen I was a kid I just loved the Mickey Mouse Show – I wanted so much to be a Mouseketeer, but I lived in Australia. When I saw this vintage hat on Etsy my first thought was that it looked like a pair of Mickey Mouse ears – albeit a more sophisticated version, made from layer upon layer of black crin.

The Package :: Wonder // Ina’s 1935 // No flashCrin, or horsehair, is a type of nylon or polyester millinery material that has a similar appearance to tulle. Crin (the French word for horsehair) is actually short for crinoline, the undergarment worn by women to create the appearance of full skirts. The stiff fabric used in its construction was woven from a weft of natural horsehair and a warp of cotton or linen thread.

Hatpins :: Wonder // Ina’s 1935 // No flashThis pretty little cocktail hat – a mille-feuille of crin, if you will – is meant to be fixed to the head with a hatpin. Cindy, the seller at The Vintage Hat Shop, provided two pearl-topped pins (at over 10cm in length, they are almost daggers), but my hairstyle precludes my employing them for this purpose. I will either attach a hat elastic, or tack on a comb. Now all I need to do is organise the printing of my name on a polonecked top …

A Mille-Feuille of Crin :: Wonder // Ina’s 1935 // No flash

What I Actually Wore #0080

Serial #: 0080
Date: 03/08/2012
Weather: 14°C, cool but sunny morning
Time Allowed: 10 minutes

It’s the middle of winter in 2012, and I am still inspired by the colourful and decorative look of the Ballet Russes. In a bid for interesting winter skirts, I had bought several by Anthropologie from eBay stores: this goldenrod and cream velvet dot skirt was one of them.

Some of my friends called this brown last week when I wore it again, but I deny that I would ever wear a baby poo brown skirt; so goldenrod it is. And because I like the unpredictable colour combinations, I went for a lilac butterfly knit and shades of periwinkle and cobalt in my accessories. It took me a while to locate that lilac knit – I eventually found it in a pile of laundered tops that don’t fit in my drawers (note to self: nearly a year later and I still have this problem, must add ‘clean out closets’ to my to-do list). The basic wool long-sleeved knit underneath is worn for warmth on this chilly day.

Last year I was on a coloured tights kick and purchased quite a few pairs; these ones are ombré, graduating from sky blue at the top to cobalt at the feet. The toes blend nicely into my suede and patent wedges. Sadly the stockings were cheapies from China and didn’t last beyond a single wear – they were so sheer (unlike the photos online suggested) and snagged easily. I fell in love with the shoes when I saw them on a sale website – what a magnificent bolt from the blue they are!

Every single item I am wearing – barring the jewellery – was bought online in fact. The periwinkle velvet bandeau is vintage 50s, but all the other items are contemporary, although only the beige knit is secondhand.

As for the jewellery, the wooden necklace was found in a charity store, the ring was a gift, and the earrings I made myself (from components actually purchased online too).

Items:

Long-Sleeved Tee: Kookaï
Butterfly Top: Witchery
Skirt: Maeve for Anthropologie
Hat: vintage 50s
Stockings: eBay
Necklace: charity store
Earrings: handmade
Ring: NGV giftshop
Wedges: Mollini

A Little Red Patent Bag

My sister Star walks proudly in front of her family, swinging her little red patent bag. It is her very first bag and she feels very important carrying it. Behind her walk our big sisters Blossom and Serena, our aunt with mum, and dad on the right. Our uncle is taking the photograph. What is dad carrying? Too small for a briefcase, perhaps it is a radio, that vintage one that used to sit in the kitchen of the family home and play the news and the easy-listening tunes of Melbourne’s 3AK.

It is the late 60s, shortly after my family immigrated to Australia from Yugoslavia. The family is walking along Princes Bridge, across the Yarra River. Possibly they had caught a train into the city and were going to visit the Botanic Gardens, for there is also a series of black and white photographs in the gardens.

There is something about red bags and shoes too, especially patent ones: they’re special.

A quick late-night phone interview with Star a few minutes ago elicits her to croon, “Oh, I loved that bag!” She doesn’t remember what happened to it. Star still loves red bags, and is always on the lookout for a vintage one in charity stores, but rarely comes across them. “Perhaps people hold onto them!” she suggests.

I don’t know if years later she instilled a love of red bags in me, but I also adore them – they always catch my eye. There is something about red bags and shoes too, especially patent ones: they’re special. No wonder Star felt important carrying hers on that long-ago bright autumn day. 

Plush Piles

Celebrating the Roaring Twenties in a Special Series

Vintage 60s faux fur jacketSince time immemorial human beings have coveted beautiful things, and drawn to adorn themselves in them – for warmth, modesty, status and simple pleasure.

Regardless of one’s stance on the use of genuine fur in clothing, one cannot deny the beauty and opulence of animal fur: gorgeously patterned and gloriously coloured, glossy, reflective, soft and silky, comforting and cosy. In the bitter cold, nothing keeps one as warm as luxurious, natural fur – except perhaps a heated luxury car.

As a matter of survival, sealskin pelts were first used for clothing by Inuits who hunted the animal for food. Archaeological evidence suggests Native Americans and First Nations People of Canada have been hunting seals for 4000 years. The pelt is waterproof – not surprisingly – and was used to make jackets, gloves and boots. The seafaring Vikings were known to have worn them also.

1920s genuine sealskin jacket with bakelite buttons, sold in Etsy shop Delilahs Deluxe The Little Ice Age of 14th century Europe created a great demand for fur – most luxury fur came from Russia. In 1515, the first commercial cargo of fur seal skins were sent from Uruguay to Spain for sale in the markets of Seville. Used for sporting apparel in the early twentieth century, sealskin was beginning to become passé by the 1920s. But it is still used today by a few fashion houses, including Prada, Gucci and Louis Vuitton.

Genuine sealskin does have a beautiful sheen, but for those who would prefer to leave the fur on the seals and don’t need the boots for that trek across the icy tundra on their way to work in the morning, vintage faux fur is the way to wear. Even panné velvet mimics the look amazingly well, as can be seen in these vintage and modern examples below. So recycle, buy vintage and be nice to the seals and the planet.

A vintage 1920s faux fur sealskin coat sold by Waikiki Kitsch on Etsy, flanked by two silk velvet dresses from Winter Kate, Nicole Ritchie’s label