Christmas Traditions

One Christmas tradition I never indulge in is the Ugly Christmas Sweater (or Jumper, if you’re from my part of the world) – mainly because it’s summer at Christmastime here in Australia.

I have on occasion seen some fine examples of ugly Christmas jumpers in thrift stores, but while they have made me smile, I have never been tempted to purchase one even as a joke.

Until last week.

I popped into a Salvation Army Opportunity Shop (or op shops, as thrift stores are known here) last week at lunchtime, and just when I wasn’t looking I flicked a rack and there it was. The Christmas sweater to end all Christmas sweaters. Red-and-white, reindeers, snowflakes, fur-trimmed hood, wooden buttons and pockets … what more could your heart possibly desire? (Okay, maybe some actual snow.)

In truth, it’s a cheap quality knit, made most likely from acrylic as it was so pilled (I spent half an hour pulling off tufts), and it is machine-washable. But for $7 – and the opportunity to share it with my Snapettes in a spectacular come-back after several months’ absence – it was too good to pass up.

Merry Christmas Eve!

What I Actually Wore #104

Serial #: 0104
Date: 25/12/2012
Weather: 22°C / 71.6°F
Time Allowed: 20 minutes

Everything’s vintage on this Christmas Day except for my shoes, and the outfit started with those. Then one day, when I was killing time in the city in the vintage store Shag, I came across this Fifties ikat print blouse. I was quite breathless, because the print seemed a perfect match for the shoes! Excitedly, I told the salesperson, and he became quite enthusiastic too. I had to try the blouse on of course, and then look the shoes up online to show him. (You can see the shoes a little better here.)

The heels of the shoes are gold, so I chose my Indian gold foil rah-rah skirt to wear with the ikat pair – it’s such a festive skirt. I had bought it secondhand years ago for a friend’s wedding for $20, and it has seen a lot of use since then. It’s so much fun when you stumble serendipitously across those quirky items that you fall in love with at first sight, and they stay in your wardrobe forever.

As it was not a warm day – and indeed turned quite cool by the time I travelled home – I wore my vintage Seventies pink silk coat over the top, carried a Fifties cane bag that matched perfectly. My jewellery was also vintage aurora borealis rhinestone earrings and ring.

Mum exclaimed in delight as soon as she saw me – an unusual occurrence. I knew she had a bit of Bollywood lurking in her!

Items:

Coat: vintage 70s, from eBay
Top: vintage 50s, from Shag
Skirt: vintage 80s, from Brotherhood of St Laurence
Bag: vintage 50s, from Etsy
Earrings: vintage 50s, from Salvos
Ring: vintage 60s, from Salvos
Shoes: Wittner

New Clothes Must Be Worn Immediately

There is a strict SNAP Fashion Law that I (nearly) always obey. That is: New Clothes Must Be Worn Immediately. This is so obvious that it is very nearly a Universal Axiom. If it is not, then it should be. But why? … Why do mountaineers climb mountains? You wear new clothes because they are new. And what better time to wear them than the onset of spring? The sun is shining (theoretically – Melbourne has been somewhat capricious) and the birds are twittering. Out with the old! In with the new! Hurrah!

These outfits that my friend Sapphire and I are wearing are new (at least, they were at the time this picture was taken in early March this year). We had gone to the theatre, and I was wearing a brand new (second hand) silk dress by Rebecca Taylor and Sapphire was at last christening an old new sequinned tank that she had not had the opportunity to wear. We both felt enormously pleased with ourselves.

But, I hear you ask, what happens if you buy something for a particular occasion? Well, this is dangerous, risk-taking fashion behaviour. You can’t buy clothes too far ahead of time, and I’ll tell you why: you might grow out of them.

 I felt a bit like Goldilocks with such an alarming dilemma.

This happened to me. I had been keeping a weather eye out for a leather dress for some time, and quite by chance (when I was browsing for sunglasses) I stumbled upon a delicious vanilla leather shift dress on sale in Witchery. It was reduced from $400 to $100, a pretty good reduction in anyone’s book. The leather was thin and butter-soft. Scrumptious. Irresistible. I took two sizes into the change room and dithered between them. One was slightly too large, the other slightly too small. I felt a bit like Goldilocks with such an alarming dilemma. I finally decided on the larger size.

The infamous white leather dress by WitcheryThere was only one catch: it was the middle of winter, and this white minimalist sleeveless shift dress demanded to be worn with naked limbs. Tights and a jacket would utterly ruin its pure lines. I would have to wait for warmer weather.

About a month later, a friend – having heard of this famous leather bargain already – was visiting my home and requested me to model it. I happily complied and … DISASTER! In the interim, I had taken up jogging and lost a lot of weight. THE DRESS WAS TOO BIG. It swam on me. It was ridiculous. Impossible to wear. There were tears, wailing, and beatings of the breast.

It was ridiculous. Impossible to wear. There were tears, wailing, and beatings of the breast.

Unfortunately, the store no longer had any smaller sizes (remarkably they were willing to exchange it even without a receipt, as all the tags were intact). I wandered around like a tragic Greek muse for a few days until another friend suggested I have the dress tailored. Eureka! Brilliant suggestion. And my tailors were even more brilliant, shrinking it to fit my form perfectly.

That was a few months ago now, and I’m still waiting for warmer weather …

TO BE CONTINUED

Rag Trade

Dishrags :: Melodie // Sussexx // No flashWhenever I see really cheap and ugly clothing on Ozsale, one of the sales websites I shop at, I hear my mum’s inimitable Croatian accent in my head, disdainfully pronouncing judgment: ‘Krpa!’ This means ‘dishrag’. As in: ‘Why would you want to wear such a hideous, rubbishy garment?’ Far less waste money on it.

A krpa, to me, usually implies any shapeless garments with uneven hemlines made from cheesecloth or cheap cotton-poly fabric and featuring brash, chintzy prints and other bedraggled details such as cheap polyester lace trim, rick-rack and the like. These are some expensive dishrags above.

Gilty as Charged!

A while back I bought another useless but completely irresistible little trifle: a headpiece-cum-tiara shaped like golden feathers. The feathers are finely-detailed gold metal attached to a comb that slides into the hair.

Sadly, it is even more useless than I suspected, owing to the fact that it is quite heavy, and I don’t have enough hair to hold it up! Ideally it would rest on back-combed hair, or even a top-knot. As it is, one unwary movement and the tiara would fly off my head. Fortunately I purchased it on a sale website for only $4, so it is not a big waste of money. Still. I could have bought a cup of coffee instead.