The Original Candy-Striper

When I was a little girl, I loved the English children’s storybooks about Milly-Molly-Mandy. They were written and illustrated by Joyce Lankester Brisley, and were set in about 1920. The stories are set in a quaint English village, and follow the simple, every-day adventures of the title character, who lives in ‘the nice white cottage with the thatched roof’. Her full name is Millicent Margaret Amanda, which is shortened for ease. (According to my Oxford Dictionary of First Names, Molly was actually an alteration from Mally, a pet form of Mary.)

The original illustrations were darling, as was Milly-Molly-Mandy’s seven year old style. She wears a simple pink-and-white striped dress, a straw boater, white socks and black Mary-Janes – a children’s unisex classic shoe that in the Roaring Twenties transmogrified into adult women’s shoes and have never gone out of style since. (Check out this gorgeous children’s outfit at Sewpony, made by a modern mum who lives in country Victoria.)

I wonder if here is the genesis of my long love of the short bob, Mary-Janes and striped clothing? Inspired by one of my childhood heroines, I’ve styled an outfit for the grown-up Milly-Molly-Mandy, who now of course insists on being called by her proper name. She’s grown her hair out, but she still loves pink and white stripes.

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Fashion Notes

The short-sleeved seersucker blouse is from Australian high-street store Witchery, the pleated skirt is by Moschino, the punctured brogue-style, patent T-bar heels by Scooter, and the striped elastic belt is, I think, vintage 80s. I can’t believe I forgot to include the boater however! All of these items I bought second hand.

Photo: December 2016

A Forest Idyll

When I was a child a favourite hobby amongst all little girls was collecting swap cards. These cards – the same size as a regular playing card – featured illustrations of all kinds of subjects, but most particularly of little girls and boys doing things (walking in the rain, throwing coins in a wishing well, collecting flowers, etc).

I had a large collection, and displayed my keepers in special albums, while those I was willing to trade were held together by a rubber band. Sometimes we would be willing to trade keepers if something really special came along.

She will use her formidable martial arts skills to fight off dragons and evil step-mothers, and also enormous thorns …

There was one card I particularly remembered, probably because of the excessively romantic imagery: a girl in a quintessentially 70s flowing dress and floppy hat, wandering through a forest carrying a basket of flowers and a large key. I wonder what the key was for? Perhaps she is going to rescue the long-lost prince who has been fast asleep for a hundred years, locked up in his dungeon tower. She will use her formidable martial arts skills to fight off dragons and evil step-mothers, and also enormous thorns that threaten to tear her dress. 

A while back I went hunting online and miraculously found the picture on Flickr! Inspired, I decided to recreate it as a photograph for SNAP.

Original 70s swapcard by the Valentine Publishing Co

Making the Picture

The production process has taken a couple of years. I photographed the backdrop at the bottom of a street I stayed in, on holiday in Noosa, Queensland, a couple of years ago. This was no forest, but rather a little copse of native trees and birches, and the ground was covered in ivy and little white flowers.

Some time later I found the enormous vintage 70s cartwheel hat at Etsy store Archetype Vintage. I’d long had an ambition to own the biggest cartwheel hat I could (because why not?), and when I saw that one, I knew it fit the bill. It was so large the postage doubled the price, and I asked the seller to put it on layaway for me. She told me later that she had subsequently received many requests of people petitioning, begging, pleading to buy the hat, or failing that (in the case of a famous New York bridal magazine) could they borrow it just for a photo shoot please?

I kept a lookout for a suitable dress until one hot summer’s day last year when I saw my friend Sapphire (who has kindly modelled for me many times before) wearing a romantic, flowing blue and white dress. It was perfect. I borrowed a large antique copper key (I had to enlarge and elongate it for the picture) and a flower basket from the Props department from the theatre I work in, and bought some native eucalyptus and purple statice to load the basket up with. 

Yesterday we photographed it (‘look pensive’, I directed Sapphire), and today the forest idyll comes to life. 

The original unretouched photograph – you can see the street in the background

White Night Lights

Celebrating the Roaring Twenties in a Special Series

A couple weekends ago, Melbourne celebrated its second White Night. The city streets, laneways, landmarks and cultural institutions were transformed into a cultural playground from dusk-till-dawn. I ventured out to play around 8pm, and literally tripped the light fantastic until 3am, when my steps turned towards home at last.

One of the loveliest experiences was when my friend and I came out of Hosier Lane into a winter wonderland on Flinders Lane. Lights fixed on a group of mirror balls of different sizes suspended high above the laneway created a shifting display of circular lights that bathed us in blue and white light, and turned the streetscape into a snowstorm. It was absolutely enchanting. There were surely a couple hundred people milling about at any one time, necks craned upwards – and cameras held aloft – to catch the flurries of light.

I was delighted when I looked at my pictures later, and immediately noticed the streetscape looked just like the 1927 illustration on the March page of my Vogue calendar. How amazing! I instantly decided to create a homage to Georges Lepape’s drawing – and here it is, with and without a masthead. Scroll down to see the original photograph.

Fashion Notes

I am wearing a vintage cloche hat with a black feather pompom on the side, and a vintage sheepskin collar, a relic from my friend Rapunzel’s Aunty Belle. (The hat is actually more of a Prussian blue, but I tweaked the shade to match the illustration a little better.) The pearl jewellery was purchased in the now defunct Melbourne jewellery boutique Portobello Lane. 

Lighting designer Philip Lethlean’s electrified installation ‘Rags to Riches’ in Flinders Lane, White Night 2014

Australian Sunday

Australia Day is a day a little fraught by race issues in truth, but today I’ve chosen to focus on something a little more positive, spending my day making art. Yesterday I had my hair cut into a classic 1920s bob, and wanted to take advantage of my beautifully styled hair before I wash it, and wreck it all in my cack-handed attempts to mimic my hair stylist’s skill.

Women with Fans, 1930, by Thea ProctorThe Rose, c1928, by Thea ProctorSo, inspired by the striking prints of early twentieth century Australian artist Thea Proctor (1879–1966) – who was in turn inspired by Japanese woodblocks – I donned some Oriental garb, lashings of kohl and lounged on my bed. Here are the results.

I hope you all have had a wonderful Australia Day dear Snapettes (or an equally lovely ordinary Sunday). Kisses.

Read more about Thea Proctor here. 

Anyone for Tennis?

Celebrating the Roaring Twenties in a Special Series

As the Australian Open draws to a close, I thought I would celebrate the fortnight with a homage to this classic 1927 Vogue cover illustration by Harriet Meserole. It’s a picture I have long liked for its freshness and elegant simplicity – something Meserole was known for.

Meserole worked for Vogue from 1919 to 1933. In 1923, she said of herself: ‘I like simplicity in all things and people. I hate prettiness and ice cream.’ I suspect that by ‘prettiness’ she meant ‘girlishness’ – something I can appreciate. Too much sugary prettiness makes my teeth hurt.

In these pictures I am wearing a Zambesi linen dress, BCBG cardigan, and a vintage 1920s shirred headband. The tennis racket is vintage too, and has a wooden press, although I am not sure of its actual age.

Picture note: since time and the weather were against me, I was unable to photograph a tennis court myself. These tennis court pictures came from here and here.