Shoe Tales Time Tells

Quite a while ago I took these photos of new shoes (new to me that is, they were both bought secondhand), and for some reason I did not get round to writing a story about them while they were still actually new, and now they are old.

This shoe story became so old it transmogrified into a different story: that of shopping habits, knowing one’s own style, and listening to gut instincts.

Time tells its own tale, for in fact, only one pair had time to get old. I can’t recall where I found the shiny black high-heeled oxfords, but it was instant love. They were a perfect fit, looked hardly worn, and were quite inexpensive. I bought them and never regretted it, wearing them countless times since as a good, sturdy winter shoe that fit in perfectly with my favourite 1930s aesthetic.

The other pair tell a different tale, however. I spotted them inside a cabinet in an op shop, and was attracted by the soft blue colour. Upon request to look at them, I discovered first off that they were expensive (for thrift store shoes) at $20, and there was no indication of what material they were made of (they didn’t smell of leather). I don’t like to wear synthetic shoes: they don’t breathe and do not soften with time, so if they don’t fit perfectly, they can rub painfully. An uncomfortable shoe is a pain in the … foot. The soles of these were also quite thin. But, I reasoned, I run through walking shoes quickly because I wear them so much, so it’s always good to have plenty on hand, so against my better judgment, I bought them. That transpired to be a mistake; I had too many misgivings about them, and I ended up wearing them only (ahem) a handful of times before I returned them whence they came.

The lesson: don’t buy shoes that don’t perfectly fit either your notions of quality or personal style, or your physical proportions: unlike garments, shoes cannot be much altered to fit you better. A bargain is not a bargain if you don’t wear it, after all.

Photos: July 2016

When the Heart Flutters, Buy

As has been firmly established by now, red is one of my favourite colours. I make a beeline for it whenever I see it, as I did with these two handbags that I bought last year.

The first one I spotted in a thrift store by the beach. (Because what do you do after spending a good part of the day at the beach? Why, fit in a spot of op shopping of course!) How cute! I thought when I saw it, round and twinkling at me from inside a cabinet. How perfectly it would go with this sequin top I am wearing, I thought. Did I need it? Of course not. But it does.

The second little bag is made of silk satin and chiffon, and in addition is studded with rhinestones. I spotted this one unerringly at a vintage fair, and had to wait quite a long time for the stallholder to be free to answer my questions about this mystery bag, for it looked completely unused. She seemed unsure as to the age, and doubtfully offered up an era I cannot recall, but I felt sure that was too recent. “It looks 1930s to me,” I said to her, and she conceded it did, excusing her first answer on the grounds of its pristine condition.

I am not sure exactly what shade of red to call it; it is lighter and orange-tinged, but not orange. I like to refer to the Wikipedia pages on colour for their names and descriptions, but the screen representations are poor. By its description it could be scarlet, or cinnabar, both of which are orange-toned reds.

Of course I did not need this bag either, but its ruffles had made my heart flutter, and the fact that I had nothing in my wardrobe to grace this with mattered not a whit. It is still pristine, for I have not taken it out yet either – it is enough to know that it exists, and it resides in my closet. Sometimes the mere fact of beauty is enough. When the heart flutters, buy.

Photos: March 2018

Clear Gilt

On Monday, after I completed some errands in the neighbourhood, I happened to pass a thrift store on my way home. Naturally I had to go in.

I saw on a shelf what looked like a giant bottle of Chanel No. 5 and was exceedingly amused to discover that it was a hard plastic handbag! It came complete with a faux gold label and chain strap, and aptly, the stopper was the clasp. There’s no visible branding, so likely it was a whimsical but inexpensive purchase by its original owner.

It is a guilty purchase for me too, I must admit, for while I have always had a sneaking liking for transparent handbags, they are not very practical, and lose their aesthetic appeal when filled with an evening’s accoutrements – unless they happen to be very, very beautiful. That’s probably why it was in the thrift store in the first place.

Aptly, I have photographed ‘Chanel’ bag with bottles of French perfume, and it does look very pretty, oui?

Photo: Yesterday

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

Fine Feathers

Hats and feathers go together like peaches and cream; pins and needles and bead and button; like sweetness and light and heart and soul. When I first saw this vintage 1950s bandeau in a vintage bazaar last year, I was smitten by its pretty frivolity: lilac satin and net, dusky coloured feathers!

Remarkably, I managed to resist its charms in favour of some velvet toppers (a scarlet one, and an emerald one). But not for long … A few months later I was back at the same bazaar on Sapphire’s and my traditional Australia Day outing, and this time I took it home with me.

One day I will have an occasion to wear it …

Photo: March 2017