A Colour Without Colour

I am in love with the prettiest shade of grey, and I call it Cloud. It is the palest shade just before white, the colour of the palest most luminescent clouds. There are really not all that many names for grey, unlike red or brown for example, and most of them are not at all complimentary: grizzly, mouse, grey-drab, Quaker, ash, greige, battleship, Payne’s grey, cadet? No thanks. That was why I had to make one up.

In fact, the name came to me when I opened up a package from the boutique Vintage Now. I had purchased a 70s shirred blouse (to replace a similar one in cream I had wantonly given away years ago) and as soon as I unfolded it, ‘cloud grey’ came to mind. Then the other weekend I found this silk blouse in a charity store in an almost identical shade. I was terribly thrilled. It is, incidentally, the exact same cut as an embroidered 40s blouse I own (down to the little gathers at the neckline and around the wrists), but it is modern, although the label has been snipped off.

Wikipedia rather poetically describes grey thus: Grey or gray is an intermediate colour between black and white, a neutral or achromatic colour, meaning literally a colour ‘without colour’. It is the colour of a cloud-covered sky, of ash and of lead. Other more complimentary analogies Roget’s Thesaurus lists are: silver, frost, oyster, pearlescent, pewter, steel, charcoal, dove-grey.

The Declaration of Love, by J F de Troy, 1731. The lovers are both wearing beautiful shades of grey. Image from ‘A History of Costume in the West’, by François Boucher (Thames & Hudson, 1987)The word ‘grey’ was first recorded in AD 700, from Middle English grai or grei, which comes from the older Anglo-Saxon graeg. The colour does not have a great reputation really, beginning with its association with peasants, monks and poverty in the Middle Ages. The hue is also associated with the military, the lower class of Parisian prostitutes (grisette), greying of hair (rarely popular), dull suits in favour with accountants and ad men, and the miserable grey days of endless winter. On the other hand, grey became a highly fashionable colour in the eighteenth century. Then it was favoured in women’s dresses and men’s coats and vests, particularly in silks and satins when the shade takes on the luminescence of silver.

And clouds always have a silver lining too. What could be lovelier?

Scroll down for more fashionable eighteenth century grey.

Countess Sophia Maria de Voss, by A Pesne, 1745. Her silver looks divine with scarlet. Image from ‘A History of Costume in the West’, by François Boucher (Thames & Hudson, 1987)Marie-Antoinette, by Louise Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun, 1783Prinzessin Amalia von Preussen, by A. Pesne, c.1740s–50sStella Tennant models modern fashion inspired by the eighteenth century, by Tim Walker

Instructions on the Proper Usage of Hosiery with Peeptoes

Fun texture of winter cable knit contrasts with suede heels. Verdict: cute! This past autumn, my friend Audrey and I held an important summit on a controversial topic: Is it sartorially forgivable to wear hosiery with peeptoe shoes?

It was Audrey who brought up the subject, for she had observed my breaking of this hitherto unpardonable sin. After a serious and in-depth discussion we brokered three rules:

1. under no circumstances are beige pantyhose to be worn with open-toed footwear
2. seams along the toes must be invisible to the naked eye
3. toeless stockings are an abomination and not to be considered for a moment

Beige pantyhose. Visible seams. Verdict: vile! Within this framework, we decided, it ought to be possible to don fun and attractive legwear with peeptoes and thus expand one’s footwear wardrobe over the cooler months. This includes lace socks, over-the-knee socks and tights of all persuasions. The jury is still out on fishnets, although the larger the net, the less likely they will work with open-toed shoes – how silly would toes look poking out of the holes?

I have since discovered, in the 1970s, the incumbent fashion editor of Australian Vogue was apparently a proponent of beige pantyhose worn with open-toed sandals. This is an atrocity. (It also probably means it will soon be back in favour, probably beginning with hipsters.)

A NOTE ON BEIGE HOSIERY

Does anyone in fact still wear beige pantyhose in this day and age? In my view, the only acceptable beige hosiery is between 10–15 denier, so sheer as to be almost invisible, or the tattoo stockings that are currently in vogue.

Scroll down for additional pictorial examples of shocking no-nos and stocking yes-yeses. 

Right sock, wrong place. Visible seams make this verdict: vile. Cream lace socks with scalloped tops look pretty with T-bar peeptoes. Verdict: cute! Go all the way with bright colour contrast: sky blue with raspberry red. Verdict: cute!

What I Actually Wore #0087

Serial #: 0087
Date: 21/08/2012
Weather: 16°
Time Allowed: 8 minutes

Sometimes it’s the smallest thing that inspires an outfit. In this case it was the boots. I had already chosen my sleeveless cable knit dress to wear; it is somewhat bulky, but I still love it. The skinny cardigan helps to create shape, and the trim is reminiscent of eighteenth century military uniforms too.

My accessories are rather more twentieth century however. The vintage peaked toque is very much like the cap of several military uniforms of the past century, while the vintage silk knit scarf is just like the flying scarves pilots wore in the 1920s. I don’t know how old this scarf is, but I once had an even nicer one just the same except that it was longer and softer. I gave it to an ex-boyfriend, which was a stupid thing to do, especially since I never appropriated any of his clothes! The boots were a recent purchase from an online sale site, and are made of soft suede. They’re very comfortable to walk in with those low heels too.

Khaki is a colour I never wear normally – this outfit must be the singular exception I have evidence of. I generally find it a dull colour, not only akin to military uniforms of the past century and their depressing associations with world wars, but also my high school uniform, which was made up of tones of predominately olive, with touches of grey and white. But the khaki tones of the hat and boots are much closer to grey, which immediately makes them more acceptable. And of course the bright tomato red of the dress and my lipstick livens everything up.

(On a side note: the one thing I miss about having long hair is being able to twist it up into chignons or French rolls – but my hairstylist tells me he’s not ready for me to grow my hair yet!)

Items:

Dress: Anthropologie
Cardigan: Sunny Girl
Hat: vintage (Belgrave boutique)
Scarf: vintage (Salvos)
Earrings: handmade
Watch: Kenneth Cole
Boots: Roc

Peppermint Trifle

I just knew these delicious Minkpink sunglasses were mint for me when I saw them on the sale rack. Aren’t they the prettiest colour? They make me daydream about sunshine and breezy, puffy clouds, and walking by the seashore eating ice cream. Peppermint ice cream naturally. 

Read about sunglasses trends for this summer – mirrored (blue ones, tick), clear perspex (tick), matt and flocked frames – at Fashionising.com.

If in Doubt, Thou Shalt Throw it Out

THE FIFTH FASHION COMMANDMENT

To keep, or not to keep – that is the question. Or perhaps, as it is in my case, the question is rather: how much closet space do I have?

I have reached a point where mine is bursting at the seams. I have long ago passed the point where it became necessary to divide my wardrobe into summer and winter, and store the out-of-season garments in my storage room in the garage. Now I have come to the inescapable conclusion that I must actually throw things out.

What a frightening prospect! The last time I did a major overhaul of my wardrobe was when I switched from bohemian eccentricity to extreme minimalism, and I got rid of virtually every single vintage garment I owned.

The memory still makes me wince slightly, although there are really only a few items that I truly regret: the watermelon 20s-style velvet coat with the large, ruched collar; the swingy 40s black lace dress, and the 40s black crepe tie-back short sleeved tailored top; the darling little red linen 60s jacket trimmed in black and white polka-dotted ruffles; the black satin diamanté buckled Ferragamo square-toed 60s heels; the 70s Morticia black dress trimmed in pleated organza ruffles … WHAT WAS I THINKING? If I could shake myself, I would. Please excuse me while I shed a few bitter tears. (Interestingly, there is a lot of black in that list.)

Now, although I know I need to thin the ranks, I’m apprehensive. What if I throw out the wrong thing?

… ‘if in doubt, throw it out’ is a long-held motto that has many times clinched anxious sartorial nail biting.

Sometimes it is glaringly obvious when a garment has passed its use-by date and it is easy to discard it. Other times I am not quite sure, but if the item is really rather ordinary and easily replaced with a newer, younger model, I consult my inner fashionista. If there is indecision, then I will be ruthless: ‘if in doubt, throw it out’ is a long-held motto that has many times clinched this anxious sartorial nail biting. It is my cardinal rule that answers when all else fails.

I am probably not alone in my concern on discarding something I might want again in the future – lovers of vintage will especially agree. So often it seems that no sooner I toss, lo and behold a week later I suddenly find myself wishing I still had the thing. It’s very annoying.

So, if you are in the same boat, here is my little self-help guide. Hold my hand, take a deep breath, and we’ll do this together. Just remember one thing: you will need to be ruthless.

Where to start

You will need to try things on, so make sure you’re wearing the right underwear, you have good light, and access to a full-length mirror.

When you are deciding on a particular garment, do take the time to try it on with something it matches reasonably well so that you can make a fair judgment.

If you need someone else’s opinion, enlist a good friend whose fashion sense is impeccable to spend the day with you. (Ply them with wine and other tempting snacks to keep them good-humoured and operating at peak efficiency.)

Put on some fun music (although not so fun that you get distracted with dancing to it).

When to DISCARD

• If it is unflattering, throw it out
• If it is damaged and irreparable, throw it out
• If it does not fit, and is not likely to ever again, and cannot be altered, throw it out
• If it is poorly constructed or cheap and nasty, and does nothing for you, throw it out
• If the colour looks horrible on you, throw it out
• If it is ugly, throw it out (do I need to reiterate this after the last commandment?)
• If you never wear it, or just don’t need it, throw it out
• If it just doesn’t fit in with your style anymore, throw it out
• If it makes you look completely the wrong age (like a child or a nanna), throw it out
• If you own a half-dozen of them, throw it out – keep only the best

If you passionately love it, KEEP IT

When to KEEP

• If you wear it all the time, and it is brilliantly useful, KEEP IT
• If it is practical and you go back to it time and again, KEEP IT
• If you passionately love it, KEEP IT
• If it suits you, it makes you feel wonderful and look stunning, and you will probably wear it occasionally, KEEP IT

If you’re STILL NOT SURE

• If it is something you are fairly certain you will rarely wear, but it is truly unique, well-made from high-quality materials, or collectible, (eg, designer or vintage) and you have space for it, KEEP IT
• If it is a specialist item such as sports gear that would be expensive to replace, is in good condition and emits no offensive odour, KEEP IT
• If it is an item you just don’t think you can part with just yet, store it for a while and if in six months’ time you haven’t missed it, (or a season passes and you haven’t worn it), throw it out

AND IF ALL ELSE FAILS

If none of the above seem to apply and something is still niggling at you, ask yourself, “Am I in doubt?” Obviously, if you have reached this point, YOU ARE. So exercise some self-discipline and THROW IT OUT. You will find it very liberating, I promise.

Now that you have rid yourself of all that bad fashion feng shui, you are probably feeling a virtuous glow. Not only that, you are also the proud possessor of a tidy wardrobe, and, even more importantly, a wardrobe with space in it. And we all know what that state of delightful affairs indicates: time to go shopping!

~

But before you step one foot in any dangerously tempting shopping strip, you will need to arm yourself with the Sixth Commandment of Miss Moses: ‘Thou Shalt Shop With the Precision of a Military Campaigner.’ Come back in a week or so for the next installment.

If you’ve just tuned in, or would like to refresh your memory, click here to review all the Fashion Commandments.