Twice Vintage Bag

Three years ago, on June 1st, I bought a vintage 70s handbag made from stripes of genuine snakeskin from some op shop – I don’t remember where now. But I do remember I fell in love with it, as much for the plastic tortoiseshell frame and link strap as the patent leather.

I immediately began using it, but alas, tragedy struck exactly four weeks later, and one of the plastic links that attached the strap to the bag snapped in half! I was very disappointed, but at least it would be relatively easy to repair with a new strap.

I sourced some new and very similar chain link on Etsy, but there were quite a few different styles, and I could never decide which ones to buy. Then while I dithered, they would sell out, and I’d have to conduct a new search. I put the bag aside for a while, and forgot about it. I have no shortage of other bags after all.

Then nearly exactly three years later – on June 3rd – in a different op shop entirely, I found a scrap of chain link with a few little wooden, leather and mother-of-pearl doodads attached. Immediately I saw the possibilities of repurposing this remnant as a bag strap. It would be easy to take off the charms.

In the end, after reattaching the new strap, I decided I liked the dingle-dangles – they add a touch of whimsy. It’s quite possible it was actually a strap in a former life, as the charms are all quite low so that they don’t impede the shoulder. The bag is now a shoulder bag rather than hand-held, and looks quite jaunty.

What I Actually Wore #0133

Serial #: 0133
Date: 17/07/2013
Weather: 18°C / 64°F
Time Allowed: 10 minutes

When I was young, a teenager, I hated brown. I think because it stumped me: I didn’t know what to wear with it except more brown, and that was dreary beyond everything, I believed. One day I had an epiphany about the colour, and learned that pink looked wonderful with brown – as do many hues, brown working somewhat like a neutral shade. It’s a good base to build an outfit on.

The skirt I chose to wear with this wool Kookaï knit has a herringbone weave, which is deceptive because one is accustomed to that weave in wool fibre, but this Catalan skirt is actually linen – the day was mild enough to wear it. I bought it as part of a suit many years ago while on holiday in Spain.

Sweet accessories introduce interest into the rest of the outfit: a caramel wool fedora, a necklace made of rectangular beads of cocoa seed, chocolate over-the-knee wool/silk/cashmere blend socks and licorice patent mary-jane heels. (Tasty!) Over the top I wore my vintage 60s black velvet coat. I highly recommend the socks by this French label – so soft and comfortable! I wore them so much I wore them out.

Amazingly, I still own and wear all these items, although the socks are heavily darned in the toes and the knit has a few moth holes in it too. It is currently in my darning pile, damn those flying menaces! The knit is such a great colour, I can’t bear to part with it. I actually thought I was not too bad at darning until I Googled it recently and saw some jaw-droppingly intricate examples that put my clumsy efforts to shame. Still, I always say a darn, even an inept or imperfect one, is an improvement on a hole!

Items:

Tee: Kookaï
Skirt: Celia Vela
Socks: Philippe Matignon
Hat: David Jones
Earrings: hand made
Necklace: second hand from the Salvos
Ring: souvenir
Shoes: BCBG

Photos: September 2013

Be Tasselled

I have always had a thing for tassels. And pom-poms. I prefer to believe it’s because they’re sculptural rather than merely cute. But I have been known to purchase things solely because they are pom-pommed or tasselled. I’m bedazzled by tassels.

This shawl is a case in point. While it is made of 100% cotton (tick: natural fibre) and it is coloured in delicious ice cream colours (strawberry, latte, chocolate, and, erm, licorice), IT HAS TASSELS ON THE CORNERS. Done deal.

As you may be able to tell from the haircut, this photo is quite old. More than three years to be precise. Guess how many times I have used that shawl in the time lapsed since then? That’s right, NONCE. That is: not once. GUILTY! Guilty of thriftlessness, guilty of frivolity!

But it’s cute, right?

Photo: February 2014

Mediterranean Dreams

This morning I had to go to Albert Park for a photoshoot location reconnaissance, and as I walked through the streets I managed – brilliant multi-tasker as I am – to fit in some window shopping.

This adorable bird bag by Minä Perhonen in the window display of Scarlet Jones instantly drew my eye, and I immediately started fantasising about toting that around. That is, however, until I called the store and discovered the price: $1000 exactly, just a tad out of my price range. My little daydream instantly collapsed.

Since 2000, Japanese label Minä Perhonen has been producing a single Tori bag every season, a collector’s item which is made from quality thick leather. This bag from Spring/Summer 14/15, literally draws its inspiration from the Mediterranean sea with hand painted ocean-blue swirls. You can ‘add to cart’ here, but on reflection, I think I would prefer to invest the money into a holiday on the Mediterranean!

Plaid: A Blanket Term

Plaid or tartan, what is the difference? Nowt indeed! Tis but semantics: plaid is the American term for the traditional Scottish fabric, but, funnily enough, in Scotland a plaide is an accessory to the kilt – a piece of tartan fabric slung over the shoulder – or a plain blanket.

Tartan is a multi-coloured pattern of criss-crossing horizontal and vertical lines. The different coloured pre-dyed threads – originally wool, but now encompassing many other fibres – are woven at both warp and weft at right angles to each other, which creates diagonal lines where they overlap. Here they appear to blend and create additional colours. The repeated pattern of squares and lines are called a ‘sett’.

Tartans should not be confused with gingham (a simple check pattern usually in white and one colour), or houndstooth (a tweed pattern of broken checks; learn more here), as they commonly are. And a windowpane check is just a check.

(Left) Soldiers from a Highland regiment, c. 1744: the private on the left is wearing a belted plaide; (right) a man wearing tartan, c. 1875Today we are familiar with the notion that tartan patterns are associated with particular clans, but before the nineteenth century, this was not so. The distinctive patterns were associated with geographic regions, and the colours with the natural dyes available in that district. Chemical dyes were non-existent, and transport of different dyes from other regions was prohibitively expensive.

The word ‘tartan’ is most likely derived from the French word tartarin, meaning ‘Tartar cloth’, which sounds dubious to me as the Tatars were a Turkic-speaking people living in Asia and Europe. Seemingly more plausible is the theory that the word has its origins in the Scottish Gaelic tarsainn, meaning ‘across’.

Black Watch tartan, worn by a couple with a very cute story (click through to read)!I prefer the more generic description ‘plaid’ as it has little apparent association with an ethnic tradition (since I have not an iota of Scots blood in me). The traditional Scottish plaide, meaning ‘blanket’, first referred to any rectangular garment worn on the shoulder, which was often a plain weave, and sometimes a tartan. (And here the origin of the classic plaid blanket for the bed!)

The ubiquitous Burberry plaid, designed in the 1920s.I must confess I do love plaid, and have managed to amass quite a collection of different plaid garments (and blankets). I prefer the simpler colour combinations, with red and white being a particular favourite. Some of the most famous tartans are Royal Stewart, Black Watch, and of course the ubiquitous Burberry check, which was created in the 1920s. My favourite red and white appears as Clan Menzies. (You can scroll through a long list here.)

Tartan upon tartan! The Royal Stewart is the mainly red plaid on the topmost layer. (Image from Pinterest.) My vintage 70s wool jacket is made up of navy and yellow on a cream background, and is a fashion tartan. When I decided one autumn that I needed to acquire a wool plaid jacket, I luckily came upon this one within a week or two. I do love it, but at thigh length it doesn’t cut the mustard for this cold snap Melbourne is currently suffering through. I do however have a very warm, heavy wool skirt in cream and navy large plaid pattern, which, considering the etymological origin of the word blanket, I very aptly dubbed my ‘blanket skirt’!

Photo: July 2015