Prussian Tiers

I really love this tiered wooden necklace! Its chunkiness makes it akin to sculpture. It’s another piece of jewellery that I bought from a thrift store, and like many pieces I’ve found, I wondered why on earth someone would toss it forth into the world. But their loss is my gain.

This lovely shade of blue, with the tiniest hint of warmth to it, I’ve decided is Prussian blue. The nuances of colour – in chemistry, nomenclature, symbolism – are quite fascinating, and the history of this particular hue’s creation, in 1706, is equally so. It is prepared from cyanide salts, but because they are tightly bound to iron, the pigment is non-toxic.

From the beginning of the 18th century, the colour was worn in uniform by the infantry and artillery regiments of the Prussian Army, and therein lies the origin of its name. Prussian blue can also be used in engineering work, and as a medicine! It is used to treat poisoning from heavy metals. Amazing. It was also used as a replacement for Egyptian blue after the loss of knowledge regarding its synthesis after the Roman Era – but that’s a whole other story.

Photo: July 2016

What I Actually Wore #119

Serial #: 0119
Date: 29/04/2013
Weather: 20°C / 68°F
Time Allowed: 10 minutes

I wore this outfit to go to a Hollywood costume exhibit with a friend. The hit item was the vintage 40s hat: everyone waxed lyrical about it, from my friend, random strangers, the male cloakroom attendant (who, to our astonishment, asked me if it was an antique Phrygian cap as worn by French revolutionaries!) to the various staff and customers in a textiles store I visited after the exhibition who also asked me if I had made it myself.

The hat is red wool felt, and features a tassel-like adornment of grey-blue flowers on long red stems. The same flowers are scattered on the top of the cap. The 1940s was a popular era for novelty hats of many inventive designs and shapes.

… the male cloakroom attendant … asked me if [the hat] was an antique Phrygian cap as worn by French revolutionaries!

That is what I most lament about contemporary millinery fashion: while there are wonderful and whimsical hats available, they usually come with designer prices. More affordable chapeaux seem to be limited to the ubiquitous fedora, newsboy, or a floppy 70s boho-style with a diamante buckle on the band – and even those mostly come in black, tan or grey, at least in this country. It’s so dull! What’s a hat-lover to do? (Shop online.)

The navy knit features a polka-dot bow on the neckline, and was a gift from a friend. It is 40s-style, with ruched shoulders, which didn’t at all suit her broad-shouldered frame. I eventually gifted this on to the very friend who joined me on this day’s excursion to the costume exhibition. The wool skirt was by Anthropologie, and was eaten by moths (curse them!); the cable socks came from ASOS; the bag is my standby 60s black patent; and the suede boots are by an Australian brand I’d never heard of, but which I bought from a sale website. My jewellery is a mixture of souvenir and eBay purchases.

Items:

Jumper: vintage
Skirt: Anthropologie
Hat: vintage 40s
Socks: ASOS
Earrings: ceramic, souvenirs from Barcelona
Bracelet: beaded sterling silver from eBay
Bag: vintage 60s
Shoes: ROC

Photo: September 2013

Scots x Italia

A couple months ago I visited my sister in the country, ahem – OUTER MELBOURNE (I like to tease her about the distance as often as possible) – and we spent a day together op shopping. We zipped around to four or five different stores, large and small, chain and independent, and I managed to snag quite a few bargains.

One of these good finds was this wool pink plaid scarf for which I paid around $4. It comes from Italy, in one of the typically traditional tartan designs that country is renowned for … Wait, what?

… och, I do love plaid, wherever it hails from.

There is an embroidered insignia at the end (right about where the fingers of my left hand are holding it), and at first I thought it said ‘Castle Something’ until I brought it into brighter light and read ‘Carlo Visconti, Italy’. I suppose there is nothing new in the designers of one country appropriating the traditional styles of another, and – och, I do love plaid, wherever it hails from. (I’m not convinced the label’s name has anything at all to do with the fifteenth century assassin of the same name, but maybe it does! You can read all about the court official’s colourful history here.)

Why would anyone get rid of such a lovely scarf, I wondered? Did they find out about the womanising, murdered Duke of Milan and conceive an unreasoning distaste for the scarf? Unfortunately, I can’t find any less apocryphal information on this Italian label, and have only spotted men’s ties and cufflinks, and fountain pens online.

It must remain an eternal – and possibly unsavoury – mystery.

PS. I am not wearing my top inside out. In case you were wondering. Ok, I am. Also, apologies for the disturbingly fluffy hair.

Photo: July 2016

Twin-Set-Match!

Many years ago I had a red and white beaded cardigan in my Etsy wishlist. My wishlist there has always been enormous, and I can’t possibly by all the items, especially with the exorbitant postage rates to Australia. Even when an item itself is quite cheap, the postage and handling on top makes it insanely expensive to purchase online from individual sellers. (This is less of an issue when buying from huge retailers, who through sheer volume can keep their postage rates low.)

I really liked that cardigan (I love red and white together), but it was priced around $90 or more so I was content to admire it from a distance. Eventually, it graduated to unavailable status, and I mourned my double inability to buy it.

Years later while browsing in a Salvation Army thrift store, I came upon a soft red wool cardigan, silk-lined, with white beading. I pounced on it, unable to believe my eyes. It was amazingly similar to that one I had sighed over so long ago! Admittedly, large patches of the beading were unravelled on the sleeve cuffs, but it was priced at $4.

The original cardigan came from Etsy store Vanity Fashion Boutique, since closed.I took it home with me and removed the remnants of beading that were beyond my skill and patience to repair. There are still a few dangling pieces as you can see that need a little fixing up, but for its price, this was a Real Find! And now that I look again at these old Fashion Holy Grails (FHGs), I see that the beading forms a different pattern, but for all that, I seem to have serendipitously happened upon fraternal twin-sets (I couldn’t resist that pun). These beaded cardigans of the 1950s were mostly made in Hong Kong, probably the products of enormous factories and sweat-shops (another pun), so such similar colours and designs are only to be expected.

In a side-note, that red fish-scale patterned sequinned tank (classic 1960s, also out of Hong Kong) was another item that I missed out on, and subsequently managed to duplicate years later, albeit with one featuring a diamond pattern.

All good things come to those that wait! I’m keeping my fingers crossed for those other FHGs.

Photo: July 2016

A Paean to Pink

By now it must be fairly patent that I have a sneaking fondness for pink … It didn’t used to always be so. I reviled it for a long period during the wishy-washy pastel 80s before I had my pink epiphany in my mid-twenties when I whimsically tried on a candy-pink blouse in a store and discovered how it suited my complexion. So much so that even the shop assistant exclaimed in mutual astonishment with me! That was quite funny.

I’ve since discovered that any super-bright colour suits me. Back then, I used to reach for muted tertiary colours, but now my fingers invariably snatch at any vivid hue. So somehow I have managed to amass a collection of vintage pink hats, and this little quartet is by no means all of them – these are just the ones with veils! (These photos were actually taken exactly four years ago, on August 24, 2012; I’m not quite sure why they have languished in the archives so long – although I do observe now that the veils have an unbecoming flattening effect on my bangs.)

There is a whipped-up confection of pink satin, a 60s hat that I purchased on eBay, from the UK. All the others came from America, and were bought on Etsy. The velvet bandeau with its feather bird is from the 50s, and the whimsical flock of flamingos is also 50s or possibly 60s. I do love birds, so naturally I was attracted to these headpieces.

The marvellous chenille pom-pom veil sweeps up into a bow at the back, and I think that may actually be a relic of the 40s. It is a little more fragile than the others, and the black net feels like it is made from a different fibre. It is dotted delightfully with rows of pink, blue and white chenille pom-poms.

The marvellous chenille pom-pom veil sweeps up into a bow at the back …

The enormous pearl baubles dangling from my ears are 60s clip-ons, and I was quite chuffed to see January Jones wearing the exact same pair in an episode of Mad Men, the one when they went to Rome. The off-white silk blouse is an old favourite, bought new from Australian store Veronika Maine.

So here they are – finally unveiled!

Photos: August 2012