Tanned Hide

Did you know that the word ‘tan’, which perhaps we are most familiar with when it denotes a specific shade of brown (or, of course, a suntan), comes from the traditional method of converting a hide into leather by soaking or steeping in a bath of tanbark?

Tanbark is the bark of the oak or hemlock, which is bruised and broken in a mill. How about that! Apparently you can buy this stuff in gardening stores, but since my thumbs are distinctly ungreen, I had no idea of this.

I do like tan shades in my accessories, or outerwear, but never wear it in other types of clothing because most browns don’t suit my complexion. If I am wearing it on a coat however, there’s usually a more flattering colour in between.

It’s handy to have a few tan-coloured belts in one’s arsenal, as they are a great neutral accessory. I particularly like plaited leather. Woven belts are most useful because you can buckle them anywhere, allowing you to wear them over different weights or layers of clothes.

Woven belts are most useful because you can buckle them anywhere …

I was sad to see this thrifted narrow belt eventually give way because the leather was old and no longer supple. When it came to disintegrating in the area where I most buckled it, I knew it was time to mulch it.

Luckily, I very quickly found a replacement in another thrift store: a dark tan belt that is punctuated with a row of hearts. Not the same as woven leather, but the continuous row makes it adaptable to layers, and it is probably sturdier as the leather is thicker. I love it!

Photo: September 2019

Wince Less Princess!

I am always on the lookout in thrift stores for good walking shoes as I run through them at a rate of knots, and I always seem to get lucky. One of my latest finds is a pair are leather brogues in a lovely shade of cognac brown, and they were hardly worn to boot.

They turned out to feel a little tight across the toes after a day of wearing them; the ubiquitous ‘they’ do say one should wear new shoes at home for an hour a few times before actually wearing them out, but I omitted this crucial step as the leather was soft and they seemed fine. I guess I know why they were in the op shop to begin with!

However, a good dose of shoe-stretching spray on the inside, and an hour’s wear at home with a thick pair of socks did stretch them out. I could have used a pair of shoe stretchers if I owned some, but using my feet makes more sense to me. I wore them out subsequently with a thinner pair of socks for safety, and they were quite comfortable.

Hooray! They are the perfect pair of shoes for a casual 1930s or 40s look … But they’re more perfect when I am not limping and wincing.

Photos: September 2019

My First Vintage Hats

My hat collection today is rather vast and spans the entire twentieth century, but once upon a time it was a pitiful assemblage of various caps, berets and sunhats I wore as a teenager and new hats bought in the 1990s. I don’t recall exactly when I bought my first true vintage hats – possibly a 1960s cloche in an op shop (thrift store) – but amongst my oldest hats, and earliest purchases is this pair: an Edwardian era navy felt Tyrolean hat draped in an ostrich-feather, and a 1920s black wool felt half-cloche trimmed in wide grosgrain ribbon.

I even remember purchasing these, under rather extraordinary circumstances. I was visiting my sister in Castlemaine, a country Victorian town, and she took me to a kind of magical old colonial house hidden in the centre of town that was seemingly inhabited by a single elderly lady, and her large collection of antiques and vintage fashion. We spoke in hushed tones as we entered the dimly-lit interior in the Victorian style, dark and every space covered in some sort of decoration.

My sister had already warned me about the vintage perambulator, in which the lady kept a baby doll (strangely similar to the late Australian artist Mirka Mora who once told me she often bumped it into doorways, after she saw me do the same with my shopping trolley!). The eccentric owner appeared, and upon learning that I was interested in looking at hats, allowed me to examine some up close.

When she saw just how interested I was, she told me she had many more hats upstairs, in the empty rooms, and she lead me up. What followed remains a hazy memory in my mind’s eye, like a surreal dream as I darted through room after room, gasping at such a treasure trove of hats. They were piled everywhere, on the furniture and gathering dust.

Eventually I settled on three – the Tyrolean cap the owner kept putting away, as though she was reluctant after all to part with it, until I firmly insisted on purchasing it, even at the high price of $90 she asked (in the early 1990s, it was a lot for me).

The third hat was a high-crowned straw, probably 1950s or 60s, painted gold and adorned with black ribbon and three fat roses (you can see that here). You could see the original blue and red straw under the gold spray paint; it might have been a refurbished relic from a theatre’s wardrobe department. Eventually I got rid of that hat, except for the roses which I removed and probably still have stored somewhere. I also bought a 1960s short jacket in a Regency style: it was sky-blue linen with silver lurex braid; that also has long-since departed my closet.

I’m pleased though that these two have lasted the test of time, as I still wear them today.

Photos: September 2019

New Bags: Approved!

Two recent-ish vintage finds have been added to my wardrobe: a 1960s snakeskin square-framed bag with a kiss clasp for winter, and a white cane clutch for summer.

The snakeskin bag is by Gold Crest, an old Australian brand about which I can discover nothing. It has quite a few pockets and partitions on the inside, so it is great for organising contents. The white bag has a leather clasp, and is by Laura Ashley – possibly vintage 80s or later.

‘an afternoon bag to wear with city ensembles and slightly dressy outfits’

In A Guide to Elegance (1964), written by French style guru Genevieve Antoine Dariaux, decrees that alligator is only for sports or travel ensembles – I’m not sure what she would think of snakeskin. However, of the bags she approves, the snakeskin bag would certainly fit under the heading of ‘an afternoon bag to wear with city ensembles and slightly dressy outfits’. Renowned Hollywood costumier, Edith Head, says one type of at least three bags should be ‘the ladylike leather bag to wear with suits and tailored dresses’. [From How to Dress For Success by Edith Head and Joe Hyams, 1967]

Dariaux frowns heavily on white accessories, and deems them suitable only for summer in a tropical city; however beige basket-weave for summer is perfectly acceptable: ‘a beige straw handbag, which can be of a rather coarse weave if you spend your summers in the country, or of a finer texture, such as Panama, if you stay in town. … [It] is an indispensable accessory to summery cotton and linen dresses.’

I am going to give myself a Pass.

New Jools

I am a sucker for jewellery – or in the case of costume jewellery, ‘jools’ – of all kinds, but especially for necklaces. Nearly all my jewellery is vintage or secondhand. Most of it was found in op shops and cost very little, which is why I don’t feel too guilty for my self-indulgence.

Of this selection of necklaces bought in thrift stores in recent months, only three of them are genuine vintage – a chain of white rhinestones, the twisted strand of pink seed beads that resembles a Twizzler, and the white milk glass bead necklace – but all of them are fun. I especially love the giant silvery bauble necklace which looks quite 60s-space-age-inspired.

And considering the embarrassingly large quantity of jools I own, I am quite pleased to reflect that I have worn nearly all of these at least once!