Evening Star

The evening draws to a close, as does the old year. Once more I am inspired by the work of Alphonse Mucha, one of the most famous artists of the Art Nouveau movement. This lady of the evening sky lifts a lantern, but we’ll be celebrating with fireworks as 2012 ends with a bang (sorry, couldn’t resist that pun).

Thank you once more for supporting SNAP for 2013. I hope you all have a fabulous evening celebrating. Happy New Year, and see you in the morning!

Anna Karenina

Ever since the first time I read Anna Karenina many years ago, I decided it was my favourite book. Tolstoy’s beautiful, lyrical passages immediately drew me into another world of Russian aristocrats who spoke French – vastly different from the twentieth century middle-class Australia I grew up in (even if I share a Slavic heritage). I couldn’t turn the pages quick enough to find out what would happen to Anna and Vronsky, Kitty and Levin.

Before I knew there was a new film of the novel being made, I had decided one day I would pay a visual homage to Anna. The film has not yet opened in Australia, and I have not paid too much notice to the costuming, although that is one aspect of the film I am very much looking forward to.

I don’t own any nineteenth century clothes, but I do own a vintage Russian-style fur hat, so I’ve taken some poetic licence and cobbled together something to evoke a winter ensemble Anna might have worn.

The black velvet coat is a sumptuous 1950s swing coat, a shape that of course was not in fashion at the time; I’ve cinched it in at the waist with a wide belt. The fur collar is another vintage item picked up somewhere over the years, and the white velvet gloves are trimmed in rabbit fur on the cuffs. Those I purchased in a Melbourne boutique. I think I’d probably need some thermals under there too …

My Anna Karenina is standing before a church in a village called Kukoba, in the Yaroslavl Region, found here.

The Seventh Veil

CELEBRATING THE ROARING TWENTIES IN A SPECIAL SERIES

Salomé – an icon of dangerous female seductiveness – has inspired centuries of artists to create paintings, operas, films, ballets, poetry, songs and even video games. For some she is the frivolous and foolish young woman who caused the death of John the Baptist, for others she is revered as the classic femme fatale, able to both fascinate and repulse simultaneously.

Aubrey Beardsley’s Salomé, 1907She danced before King Herod and his court and abstracted a promise from the king to grant a wish. Her dance is thought to have had an erotic element to it and is the precursor to the famous Dance of the Seven Veils during which six outer veils are flung off. Having seduced the king, and prompted by her mother, Salomé demanded the head of John to be served to her on a platter. If you ask me, it was rather foolish of the besotted king to have agreed to grant her wish before having heard it.

My seventh veil consists of portions of an Arabian dancing costume, a vintage sequin encrusted showgirl bra and lots of vintage pearls and silver jewellery. Plus loads of kohl, the essential accessory of any dancing girl worth her salt.

All Nazimova, Russian American actress, plays Salomé in 1923George Barbier’s portrait of Tamara Karsavina as Salomé, 1914Theda Bara in a rather awesome costume, as Salomé, 1918

Take Me Seriously

Or You’ll Seriously Be Sorry

It’s a pleasure to play kooky and sans smiles sometimes, I must say. Emily the Strange always stares levelly down the barrel of the lens, arms akimbo in challenge. I haven’t read the books, but I imagine she’s not actually sullen – but she’s serious, far left of centre and stands no nonsense. She’s not like other girls; she’s strange.

Yesterday, in a celebration of long hair before I chop-chop it off, I spent the day with twisted chignons above my ears. When I unravelled them in the evening I found a profusion of curls. My bangs are far too long too, and as I stared into the mirror I found myself thinking I looked like Emily the Strange – grown up and having a temporary fling with curls.

Here’s to all the strange and interesting and curly-haired girls out there – vive la différence!

Here’s another great portrait of her, with a real, live cat.

Indian Summer

I suspect that today really is the last of the Indian summer. The phrase has an interesting etymology, but these days of course refers to those last glorious summery days that autumn is blessed with. The wind blows a heatwave ahead of it, and autumn leaves follow in a golden shower.

Dressed up like a chieftain’s daughter, here I wear a feather headdress (heroically hand sewn by me) on mauve satin ribbon and sequinned trim, a suede fringe necklace and a vintage white leather vest. All I’m missing is a palomino by my side. And maybe a bow and some arrows.