Aussie Men Are Not Afraid of Your Handbag

Some time last year I read an article about handbags in British Vogue. There is nothing particularly extraordinary in that occurrence, except to note that the writer opened with a declaration that if one wanted to reduce a British man to cringing mortification, one had only to ask him to hold a lady’s purse in public.

I read this and was truly astonished. Really? Are British men really that spineless and so afraid of having their manhood impugned? I was pretty sure that most Aussie men would be completely unfazed by this request. I conducted a straw poll and was gratified to find my good opinion of the Aussie male was justified.

I made a general call-out to my male Facebook friends with this question: ‘Who among you would be unfazed to hold your female companion's handbag in public?’ Here is a sampling of their (and their partner’s) comments:

‘All the time – I don't even blink.’

‘Completely unfazed.’

‘All the time, I take the role of humble servant or camp gay friend, depending on the bag she wants me to hold.’

‘I do it all the time.’

‘My husband does it a lot, no dramas!’ (Several women said this.)

There were quite a few ribald comments along these lines:

‘Depends on the colour, has to match my outfit too.’ And, ‘Only if doesn't clash with my outfit.’

‘Sometimes I meet my lady at the train station just so I can carry her bag home.’

‘And who would hold mine whilst I was holding hers?’

A single gentleman was agreeable with one qualification:

‘Marmaduke says he has no problem as he likes my handbags. If they were gaudy or frilly or something he may feel differently.’

And only one was uncomfortable with the proposition:

‘Never done it. To be honest I would put it on the ground and stand next to it, not hold it.’

I therefore come to the conclusion that most Australian men are so comfortable with the representation of their manliness that to be seen in a public street holding what is patently a woman’s handbag could not ruin their image – it could only enhance it. They are man enough.

Thank you gentlemen.

Many thanks to Volodya, who nonchalantly agreed to model for this shoot, and held not one, but two handbags with complete sangfroid.

The Purple Dresses

Yesterday I revealed that my mum’s favourite colour is purple. Today I bring you proof. But there is much gold in these pictures too. Observe:

There is a heavy influence of Victoriana in the wedding photo above. It is my sister Serena’s wedding, and I am about eight or nine years old. I am wearing the reviled purple dress. I hated everything about it: the high neck, the long sleeves, the elasticised waist, the colour, the fabric. To this day I remember the itchiness of it, and I suspect it was made from acrylic crepe. I felt Dowdy. Even my tragic expression seems to presage at least a decade of unremitting, unrepentant purple-hating. However, the tall black leather boots are cool. (I looked way cuter in this wedding outfit [second photo].)

… my tragic expression seems to presage at least a decade of unremitting, unrepentant purple-hating

My sister Blossom, on far left is wearing oxblood velvet with a white lace jabot! And bridesmaid Star next to her is in a shade of light mauve. Her dress also features Victoriana style with that lace yoke and bishop sleeves. Mum is letting the side down and wearing neutral grey. Then there is the bride, Serena in a high-necked gown covered with lace, and … I am not sure what length to call those lace sleeves. They are between short and three-quarter. But – heaven! A bridal gown that is not a strapless princess line! Praise be. (Oh and that’s dad on the end, which you probably guessed.) But you can see mum’s influence at work here, right?

Here is my sister Serena as a young teen in the early 1970s, wearing a purple mini with bishop chiffon sleeves – a classic style from that era. Far more awesome than the purple dress mum inflicted on me.

And the pièce de la résistance: my mum in a glorious royal purple velvet gown, featuring pussy bow and matching bolero with flared lapels. I am sad to report that this garment has long since been removed from the confines of her closet, or I would undoubtedly have modelled it already on these pages. (Although perhaps I would have been tempted to turn that dress into a maxi skirt.)

I truly was born to the purple. 

Note: I have colour corrected these photographs – the originals have faded a lot, but I thought I should be fair and let you see these dresses as they were in their heydey.

Princess of Purple

The barge she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Burned on the water. The poop was beaten gold,
Purple the sails, and so perfumèd that
The winds were lovesick with them. The oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke …
Antony and Cleopatra (1606–7), William Shakespeare

Purple was in ancient days considered a royal colour because the dye was so expensive to produce. Tyrian purple came from from a type of sea snail found around the Mediterranean. This purple dye varied in colour from reddish to blueish, depending upon the processes used to manufacture it. The Roman Emperors wore Tyrian purple, and it is still used by royalty today on ceremonial occasions.

These beautiful quotations scattered throughout illustrate how treasured purple has been since ancient times.

Hector and his comrades are bringing
Swift-eyed, tender Andromache; with her are golden
Bracelets and purple robes and fine-chased jewels and
Silver cups beyond counting and splendid ivory …
Fragment 44, late 7th century BC, Sappho

The colour is also associated with piety and faith, from its use in the purple garments worn by the officials of western religions. And in China, purple symoblises spiritual awareness, healing, strength and abundance, while in Japan it is associated with the aristocracy, and signifies wealth and privilege.

When the deep purple falls over the sleepy garden walls,
And the stars begin to flicker in the sky,
Thru’ the midst of a memory you wander back to me,
Breathing my name with a sigh.
‘Deep Purple’ (1939), Mitchell Parish

So Easter is a prime time to wear something purple, especially for princesses like me! It is only recently that I have begun to wear it however; as I child I conceived a passionate hatred for the hue owing to a loathsome dress my mother dragooned me into wearing to my sister’s wedding (it was mum’s favourite colour). I’ve finally grown out of my antipathy and into this much prettier vintage 50s dress, made from a chequered iridescent fabric. It’s accessorised by a golden feather tiara, a vintage patent belt, gold coin earrings, an amber rhinestone ring, and gold and chocolate snakeskin sandals. 

Just as the hyacinth up in the mountains is trampled under-
Foot by shepherds, and the purple flower lies on the ground …
Fragment 105c, late 7th century BC, Sappho

Gold Renaissance

It’s Easter Sunday, and it’s time to unwrap your chocolate eggs and gobble them down! Those coloured bits of foil in every colour of the rainbow – the prettiest parts of the chocolate sweets – are now little bits of screwed up rubbish. When I was a child I sometimes would try to flatten out the foil sheets and burnish them with the back of a spoon. I loved that reflective shine.

For a time though, I lost that love. In my early 20s metallic fashion was very passé – only wealthy madams of well-to-do areas of Melbourne gravitated towards shiny accessories, and they particularly loved metallic shoes. Usually they were flat sandals, which were bejewelled to boot. My friend Rapunzel and I share a mutual abhorrence for them.

… there is nothing middle-aged lady about stilettos in silver snakeskin

Fast forward many years later, and metallics are back in fashion – particularly in footwear, ironically. But today’s metallic leathers are much more refined, and there is nothing middle-aged lady about stilettos in silver snakeskin.

One of my favourite vintage purchases that I made quite a few years ago is this 80s Indian gold foil rah-rah skirt. I don’t think I own anything else that says P-A-R-T-A-Y-! quite so loudly, not even the multitude of sequinned garments in my closet. In shape, it is quite reminiscent of the 1920s too, which is bound to attract me.

When I first bought the skirt to wear to a wedding, I wasn’t quite sure which colour to wear it with, and I ended up pairing it with a chocolate coloured top. Now I also like it with very pale pink, and turquoise. It looks great with violet too – you can’t get a more royal combination!

As for gold jewellery, I almost never wear it. If I do, I tend to be attracted to very yellow gold (the shade of 24ct gold), and in the most OTT Bollywood style I can lay my hands on. If I could go about looking like an Indian bride, I would (the only thing that stops me is that I don’t own enough pieces). These earrings and necklace came from an Indian boutique in Melbourne.

So go on, give gold a go – it has the SNAP seal of approval. 

T.G.I.G.F.

This past week or two I kept reading everywhere about inspiring fashion for Easter: pretty spring pastels – pink, green, primrose. All the fashion magazines were ecstatic. Newsflash: it’s autumn in the southern hemisphere.

What do you wear in autumn for Easter, I wondered? I could find nothing online. Apparently, you don’t wear anything special Downunder. I asked quite a few friends, and most disclaimed any interest, or indeed knowledge of specific Easter fashions, apart from Easter bonnets (which is originally an American tradition anyway).

I don’t particularly like pastels however, at least not on myself. I find pastel coloured clothing a little insipid, a little wishy-washy.

And then I had a Easter flavoured eureka moment. Chocolate!

The obvious solution is to wear autumnal colours, but they don’t seem particularly Easterish. The holiday has become inexorably and inextricably intertwined with spring.

And then I had a Easter flavoured eureka moment. Chocolate! And, Cadbury’s! I don’t actually eat Cadbury's chocolate (too much sugar for my liking) and of the supermarket brands, prefer New Zealand’s Whittaker’s Chocolates. But there was something in this … chocolate brown, royal purple and gold. I liked it. I don’t normally gravitate towards brown, but when it comes in liquid satin and metallic copper wrapped in a vintage Edwardian purple and white striped taffeta ribbon, I’m down with it.

And, however you celebrate Easter, Thank God it’s Good Friday, eh?