Chocolate & Pistachio

If you can’t wear a 50s inspired outfit to a high-tea birthday party, when can you, I ask you? It was chilly, so I wore a chocolate brown wool polo-neck jumper with a pistachio green and white striped A-line skirt. A white beaded belt and matching vintage purse add party-sparkle.

Chocolate and pistachio … rather like the macaroons (and numerous other tiny delicacies) we ate over chai lattés. Delicious!

Kitty Come Home

That’s just the cutest name for a boutique, isn’t it? My friend, the ‘Canarean’ (she’s a Korean-Canadian) was given this wallet for a birthday present by a friend who loves shopping. (The Canarean most certainly does not.)

The Canarean loves it because it’s waterproof (to a point) – she can put it on the bar and it will survive beer spillage. It fits everything she needs – even her phone, at a pinch, which is great, as in her own words she ‘never carries a purse like a normal chick’.

I like it because it’s blue and red, it’s made from a cute print, and above all: it’s shiny!

Sprinkle Spangles

Cupcake sports glamorous striped angora mittens by Peter Alexander, designed for sleep or loungewear. As if that notion was not enchanting enough for his customers: the designer took it upon himself to sprinkle spangles on them.

To be worn strictly with a silky satin slip… but not to the office Cupcake. 

Three Colours Pink

Rapunzel goes against the dictum that redheads shouldn’t wear pink for once, and purchases a hot pink patent leather purse from Kinki Gerlinki. She has reservations however, as it does not match her red bag at all. In fact, it was not her first choice, but the blue sold out before she could make up her mind to buy it.

On the plus side, pink is more fun than beige (the third option) and it does match her new – and much admired – hot pink nailpolish.

From Kazakhstan to Melbourne

I love vintage textiles, especially ones that put me in mind of my Slavic heritage, like this beautiful, antique short-sleeved robe. This rich piece is redolent of an exotic history, and it tantalised me for weeks as it hung in the window of a vintage boutique.

Finally I ventured inside, only to learn that it is a child’s garment and would be far too small for me. That was bitterly disappointing considering at $85 it was well within my budget.

As a ceremonial robe from Kazakhstan, I can at least daydream about its fascinating origins in the days of the Russian Empire – and marvel that it has ended up in the window of a Melbourne boutique.