Which Came First?

The Vintage Hat Series: 1950s ruched velvet saucer hat

In the last story I talked about the importance of proportion and hairstyle when considering which hat to wear. When I cut my hair into a bob, suddenly quite a number of my hats did not look quite right. But which came first, historically speaking: hat or hairstyle?

When the Roaring Twenties rolled through fashionable society and brought with it the bob, women cut their hair short for the first time since the Regency period – approximately a century earlier. The new shorn hairstyles meant a woman could wear one of the close-fitting cloches, a signifier that she was highly fashionable: a fast, bright young thing who wore makeup, drank, and smoked in public.

Fashion cycles began to move faster and faster since then, and before long (after two world wars) women were once more wearing their hair long. But with one difference: there was more choice, and both long hair (often worn up in a chignon or French roll) and short was worn in the 1950s.

This ruched velvet mini saucer hat I am wearing is vintage 50s. I loved the silvery grey colour when I purchased it on Etsy, but when it arrived and I tried it on it just didn’t look quite right with a bob (below). I wonder if it is just the unaccustomed combination, or are the proportions simply odd? Tucking my hair behind my ears (above) offers some sort of solution (apart from the accidental sideburns effect!) – I look as though I might have my hair pinned up, or a close-cropped 50s do.

The jury’s still out as far as I’m concerned, but it’s a moot point anyway until next winter, when I might consider wearing the hat again … but only if it suits my hairstyle in the future.

On the Beaton Track

Derby Day fashions during the Melbourne Spring Racing Carnival are traditionally all about black and white. It is a striking combination, but it is not uncommon to see ladies in all black or all white, or possibly shots of colour as well. Perusing pictures of fashions on the field always calls to mind Audrey Hepburn’s extravagant ensemble in the film My Fair Lady.

Cecil Beaton was not a minimalist. Not if his costume designs for My Fair Lady are anything to go by. I must now make a controversial confession: I think most of the outfits, if not all, are just plain hideous. (If only they were plain though – I’d probably like them more!)

There is such a superfluity of tulle, frills, ruffles, and fabric roses that Audrey looks like she is in danger of being swallowed alive.

Recently I watched the film again for the first time since I was a teenager, and I was very surprised to find I disliked the fashions. While the film is set in the Edwardian era, Beaton’s costume design shows an unmistakable influence of the Sixties (my least favourite era for fashion) – not to say a heavy-handed touch. There is such a superfluity of tulle, frills, ruffles, and fabric roses that Audrey looks like she is in danger of being swallowed alive.

There are a multitude of enormous bows too, but I like those – there is something pleasing about the shape of a bow. While it could be argued a bow is girlish too, it has ties (pardon the pun) to practicality and function that redeem it from fussiness, even when it is merely decorative.

Audrey Hepburn in My Fair LadyAudrey’s Ascot outfit (above) featured several black and white striped bows trimming her hat and lace dress. I was very familiar with it from black and white photographs, but I was shocked when I saw it on film. There were coloured flowers trimming the hat, and – most appalling detail of all – a white lace mobcap (stuffed with more fake flowers) that sat atop Audrey’s head beneath the main body of the hat! Horrible.

But big hats were certainly in favour with Beaton. He designed additional costumes for the Broadway version of the film, and these are real hats, not a stupid little fascinator among them. These hats aren’t for wallflowers however. They are graphic, sculptural pieces with a solid structural foundation supporting the lighter bows and feather trim. In graphic black and white they posses rather more gravitas than they would rendered otherwise in bright colour. Though size is surely set on maximum, ironically these are far more minimal in design than real Edwardian hats.

Costume by Cecil BeatonIn my own adventures in hat-wearing, it has been interesting to discover how important hairstyle is. Less so from a fashion or silhouette point of view than practicality. In the Edwardian era women had long hair that was invariably worn in an elaborate updo, usually with additional false pieces to create volume. To counter sudden gusts of wind, the enormous hats of the time were securely pinned on with hatpins, and this is the main reason a woman rarely removed her hat when not indoors. My own hat – a 1960s cartwheel – is enormously wide and a mere elastic band is not enough to hold it securely on a blustery day.

I have mixed eras in this outfit inspired by Derby Day: a 1940s-style dress, vintage 40s lace gloves, a 1960s hat and modern shoes by Australian label Skin.Conversely, the close-fitting cloche hat of the 1920s made shorn hair mandatory. I know this to be true – before I bobbed my own hair it was impossible to jam on a cloche if I pulled my hair back into a chignon to mimic the look of a bob (and the proportions looked silly with my hair down).   

Scroll down to see additional pictures of Cecil Beaton’s costumes for the Broadway production of My Fair Lady. (Click the images to jump through to even more of these costume designs.)

Old Hat

Spring Carnival is the one time of year when no one stares at me when I wear a hat, although never let it be said that I would wear a common sinnamay fascinator on my head. I am celebrating Cup eve instead with a new vintage hat I recently added to my collection: a 1970s straw that I bought on eBay for a song – I couldn’t resist its candy pinkness.

Isn’t the painting in the background darling? I snapped it yesterday, a new addition to the walls under Richmond Bridge – I love that the horses are drawn in the simple style of cave paintings. There are four in a row, and the jockey on the lead horse is looking back as though he can’t believe he is so far ahead.

Tomorrow dawns on the day that will stop a nation, and we Victorians are awarded a public holiday, hurrah! 

Please to Meecha, Bombacha!

A new kind of trouser has travelled upriver to the West in the last few years, and entered the mainstream. The first ripples came in the guise of the harem pant, ballooning from the waist; yards of fabric gathered at the ankle. Gradually the form took on a different silhouette, less billowy in the leg, and the new trouser shape became inelegantly known as the ‘drop crotch’. As I own a few pairs, curiosity lead me on a journey to discover the origins of these comfortable trousers. 

In South America it is more traditionally known as the bombacha, or the gaucho, and the trouser takes its name from the South American equivalent of the cowboy. Today they are worn for riding or for outdoor work that requires sturdy garb. The trousers are long, loose and baggy, and are usually tucked into boots to create the look more familiar to us on the runway. Some modern versions of the bombacha are cropped just past the knee for practicality. 

Traditional guachos

Loose, comfortable trousers have been worn throughout history by both men and women around the world.

Loose, comfortable trousers have been worn throughout history by both men and women around the world. A similar style of trouser has long been worn in South and Central Asia, where they are known as shalwar kameez. They are also part of Turkish folk costume, and are called şalvar in Turkish, while historically Persian horsemen wore a version of the pants called sharovary. In the mid nineteenth century French Zouave soldiers wore trousers very similar to the drop crotch – these men were recruited from a tribe of Berbers in Algeria. I in fact bought a pair of heavily embroidered traditional blue trousers still worn today by the Tuareg, a Berber people, when I was in Morocco a couple of years ago. (You can see these here.)

Besides my souvenir Tuareg trousers, I own several pairs of loose, baggy pants in the bombacha style. These are what I wear when I am working or mooching about at home – I find them both comfortable and a little more elegant than tracksuit pants. (Tracksuit pants belong on the track – I’m sure I’ve declared that more than once before!) Mine are all made of softer fabrics however – silk blends and cottons – I’m certain they wouldn’t last the distance if I really was a cowgirl. 

Picture Credits

The background images were taken in the Rif Mountains of northern Morocco when I was holidaying there a couple of years ago. Guacho trousers (left) and (right). Fashion image here. 

Bombachas by Zandia, Spring/Summer 2010

What I Actually Wore #0091

Serial #: 0091
Date: 02/09/2012
Weather: 19°
Time Allowed: 10 minutes

It is Father’s Day and I am dressing up for a family day at my parents’ house. It isn’t terribly warm, but it is nice and sunny. The outfit starts with the vintage red velvet jacket, which is a newly arrived purchase I made on Etsy, from a Canadian seller. It makes me think of a pierrot with its trapeze shape, feather pompom buttons and cuffs. I fell in love with it the minute I saw it on the website, and purchased it immediately – I had to wait nearly six weeks for it to arrive though, the slowest international mail service I’ve experienced.

Red always looks lovely with grey, and is one of my favourite combinations. The skirt is by Danish label Staff (now called nü), which I purchased in Dubai when I was holidaying there years ago. Such details as pin-tucking, pleating and gathering sumptuous always attract me. (I am also wearing a medium blue long-sleeved, ruched top underneath the jacket.) I love that the red stockings exactly match my T-bar suede heels – a trick that makes one’s legs look longer.

The handbag is also vintage, and is knitted from plastic cord! I have had it for years, and it is always a conversation starter. The purple velvet cap trimmed in feathers is another vintage purchase from Etsy. (On the day I clearly had my hair up, which always looks better with 50s hats.) The bauble drop earrings I made myself, using sterling silver beads and vintage enamel beads in blue with embossed silver stars on them.

I spotted an abandoned stack of mattresses in my parents’ neighbourhood, and thought it would be rather amusing to play princess and the pea for the afternoon, with my niece snapping the photos. (You can see another version here.)

The Princess & the Pea :: Wonder // W40 // No flash

Items:

Jacket: vintage
Top: Anthropologie
Skirt: Staff (now called nü)
Stockings: The Sock Shop
Hat: vintage
Sunglasses: Calvin Klein
Bag: vintage
Earrings: handmade
Rings: Roun (silver), souvenir (onyx)
Shoes: Wittner