The Lost Umbrella

A few days ago I lost one of my favourite vintage umbrellas, leaving it behind me at a tram stop in the city. I didn’t realise until I had travelled all the way to my destination and disembarked. As is my habit, I looked behind me to check I had all my belongings and suddenly thought, WHERE IS MY UMBRELLA?

It was a favourite shade of Kelly green with a lemon yellow pearlised plastic handle and cord wristlet (by chance patriotically Australian colours), and I had bought it a year or two before at a vintage bazaar. It was a great smallish size that fit into my work tote bag too, which I had always appreciated.

I had been carrying the umbrella all day, using it first in the morning as a sunscreen, and then, when the weather turned suddenly in the afternoon (as is typical in Melbourne), to keep the rain off. I had put the wet umbrella down so I could put on a jumper as it had turned chilly, and sat down to await my tram.

Then a homeless person standing a few feet away from me suddenly started declaiming political poetry at the top of his voice, startling me, until I realised he had mental health issues and was ranting about sinister conspiracy theories. When my tram arrived a few minutes later, I jumped up with alacrity, eager to escape the crazed rage, and thus forgot my umbrella.

So there I found myself, brolly-less, and upset with myself for being so careless. I couldn’t bear to go home without attempting to recover the umbrella, so I returned to the city on a tram that fortuitously arrived a minute or two later, and I prayed all the way that the umbrella would be miraculously untouched and waiting for me.

More than once I’ve seen lost things taken or kicked about my strangers …

AND IT WAS! Joyfully I snatched it up. Some kind soul had fastened it for me and placed it on a seat in plain view. No one else had taken it! More than once I’ve seen lost things taken or kicked about my strangers, so it was heartening indeed to see my umbrella spared. I didn’t even mind that it had ended up taking me two hours to get home instead of one, I was so happy.

Photos: July 2016

What I Actually Wore #128

Serial #: 0128
Date: 24/06/2013
Weather: 12°C / 53°F
Time Allowed: 10 minutes

This outfit amuses me, nearly four years on. I was still on my Ballet Russes kick, but I remember the sheer number of colours in this outfit was a rebellion against my own edict of not wearing more than 2–3 hues at once, as well as being inspired by a life drawing I did twenty years before in art college.

I remember somewhat quixotically selecting two fluorescent soft pastels that were amongst a 12-pack I had bought cheap. (Reduced probably because no one else had wanted to buy it.) I chose hot pink and lemon yellow. As a testament of my drawing teacher’s trust, she did not comment until I was close to resolving the drawing, after the additional introduction of cobalt and neutral shades. Then she told me that she had been very dubious at the outset, but admitted I had successfully pulled the drawing together. It was even framed and exhibited at the end of the year.

And here is the same colour palette rendered in cloth! All the garments are contemporary; only the hat and earrings are vintage, a 1920s cap with feather pom-pom, and woven cane hoops which are possibly 70s or 80s.

The hot pink long sleeved tee is a woollen merino knit, one of Kookaï’s trusty basics; the acid yellow top is by Veronika Maine, a favourite Australian label; and the linen skirt I bought in Spain. My other accessories include a cobalt Italian patent leather belt I bought on sale in David Jones, a local department store, French over-the-knee socks I wore to death, and a pair of wedges I bought from an online sale store.

Unusually for me, I put the outfit together the night before, and even ironed it then! I really liked it then (my notes say), and it still makes me smile, especially because of the inspiration behind it.

Items:

Tee: Kookaï
Top: Veronika Maine
Skirt: Celia Velo, souvenir from Spain
Belt: Alta Linea
Socks: Philippe Matignon
Hat: Merimac Hat Co, vintage 20s from Etsy
Earrings: vintage
Ring: souvenir from Vietnam
Wedges: Finsk

Photos: September 2013

All Shades of Grey

Grey is so much more of an interesting colour than black. There are a myriad shades – certainly more than fifty – between the warm and cool ends of the spectrum. I always love to look at Wikipedia’s colour palettes not because I’m so sure they are universally accurate, but because the names are often so evocative.

The list of grey is quite short compared to other shades, but here they are: ash grey, battleship grey, blue-grey, cadet grey, charcoal, cool grey, Davy's grey (a dark grey shade named after an English landscape painter), Payne's grey (a dark blue-grey, also named after a painter, of watercolours in this case), gunmetal, platinum, silver, slate grey, taupe, purple taupe, medium taupe, rose quartz, taupe grey, and timberwolf (a light, warm grey).

Some of my own designations that I have used are dove grey, a warm grey the shade of a turtledove’s feathers; cloud, a tone I named after a very pale, icy grey blouse I bought online; smoke, pewter and mushroom, which are self-explanatory.

One of the lovely aspects of this shade is that it can be faintly tinted by any colour of the rainbow, and still remain grey – therein lies its beauty. Grey also goes with every other colour, so it’s easy to mix and match colours with it, if that is a challenge for some.

Genevieve Antoine Dariaux’s book A Guide to Elegance, first published in 1964, and updated in 2003, is a quaint relic of its time, but it still contains plenty of useful information. She has an exhaustive entry on wearing colour, and includes a very practical list of a few successful colour matches.

With pale grey she suggests wearing: browns, dark greens, dark grey, red. (I would certainly include black and white too.)

With dark grey: beige, black, all the pale and bright colours. (And white.)

I also love to mix different shades of grey, and find it particularly fun to mix cool and warm shades. Sometimes at first glance it seems a little wrong, but that is exactly what I love about it. It’s also unexpected. With such neutral garments, I will definitely wear at least a bright lipstick with it, in a true red (my current favourite, Poinsettia by Revlon) or dark pink (Cherries in the Snow, or Cherry Pop, also by Revlon). It is alternatively a great opportunity to add just one accessory in some vivid colour to have it really stand out.

Fashion Notes

In my first outfit I am mixing warm and cool shades, with a vintage 40s hat in a cool bluish tone, a very pale silk chiffon blouse, and a pewter skirt that by virtue of its taffeta fabric changes dramatically in the light. The shoes are a medium taupe, the warmth of this shade increased by proximity to such cool shades of grey. They don’t look quite so brown seen on their own.

The second outfit includes two warmer shades in the singlet (mushroom) and cord jeans (old favourites that tragically wore out – ‘dim grey’ according to Wikipedia) and a mid-grey wool shawl that has a tinge of lilac in it.

In the last picture I am wearing a wool jumper I was forced to buy because of cool weather, in Dubai of all places! I was there on holiday and attending a party on a yacht, and I had a terrible time trying to find a sweater in that desert city. This one is only a wool blend – 100% wool jumpers simply did not exist there. It’s from Zara, and contains only 15% alpaca, with the rest a mix of acrylic and nylon, but I call it one of my super-jumpers. It is such a warm grey it is on the cusp of brown. I still love it.

So you can see how though I am still wearing monochrome across all these outfits, all the various shades make it look like I am actually wearing colour. It's still moody, but not gloomy; sophisticated and soft. It can be as dramatic as black at the extreme ends of the spectrum, but it's not quite as harsh or stark. It’s also more forgiving, as you can find a grey to suit you whatever your complexion. And it’s far more adventurous than wearing plain old black every day.

Photos: July–August 2013

A New Look

There are changes coming to So Not a Princess! The website will see a few minor changes – notably the masthead and icons – to better reflect the direction SNAP’s artwork has taken over the last few years. All the existing content will stay the same. However, the site will be down for a short while (unless I make horrible errors in the html code) tomorrow evening AEST, so I ask for your patience during this time.

Thank you!

A Picnic on Valentine’s Day

What could be more clichéd and romantic to celebrate Valentine’s Day with a picnic? What could be more fun (and spooky) than to celebrate it with a Picnic at Hanging Rock, complete with period costume à la the characters in the Australian film of the same name? Preferably ending the day without the disappearing act. Or perhaps you could use it as the perfect setting for a break-up!? Ahem. Maybe not.

I’ve based my picture above on the style of the embossed, diecut greeting cards popular in this era, like those which the schoolgirls in the story would have exchanged.

What could be more fun (and spooky) than to celebrate Valentine’s Day with a Picnic at Hanging Rock?

A couple of years ago I dressed as Mlle de Poitiers, the French teacher character from Peter Weir’s seminal film (based on the book by Joan Lindsay). I was attending a costume Christmas party, and the theme was Australiana. I cobbled together my costume from garments and accessories I already owned: a broderie anglaise blouse that I bought in Barcelona years ago, and a real Victorian petticoat (gasp!) bought from a Canadian Etsy seller.

My accessories I had collected over the years. The parasol was bought in Queensland on a holiday in my 20s, while the boater (of indeterminate vintage), and the 70s or 80s crocheted gloves both came from an op shops. The brown leather boots and the stretch suede belt are both new, bought online. I even carried a cane picnic basket (you can see that in the photo below.)

All my work colleagues loved my costume. It was actually a hot day, so I suffered, and I could only imagine how hot it must have been wearing layers of petticoats in the Australian bush during summer. No wonder Miss McCraw lost her layers in the film!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Photo: February 2016 / December 2015

Posing under that Aussie backyard icon – the Hill's Hoist clothesline – decorated in lieu of the traditional Christmas tree.