Archive
- Behind the Screens 9
- Bright Young Things 16
- Colour Palette 64
- Dress Ups 60
- Fashionisms 25
- Fashionistamatics 107
- Foreign Exchange 13
- From the Pages of… 81
- G.U.I.L.T. 10
- Little Trifles 126
- Lost and Found 89
- Odd Socks 130
- Out of the Album 39
- Red Carpet 3
- Silver Screen Style 33
- Sit Like a Lady! 29
- Spin, Flip, Click 34
- Vintage Rescue 20
- Vintage Style 157
- Wardrobe 101 148
- What I Actually Wore 163
The Monster Shoes
Rather than a mere ‘little trifle’, this pair of suede shoes is more a monstrous oodle. They are amongst the giants of the shoe world. The leviathans. The dinosaurs. And the reptile skin panels, colossal metallic platforms and towering heels do nothing to dispel this notion.
When Î first tried them on in the shoe store, another shopper watched in bemusement as I tried a few paces. “They look impossible to walk in.”
“They’re surprisingly comfortable,” I informed her. “Quite well-balanced.” Unlike the other pair of platforms I tried on.
Admittedly, they did feel quite weighty at the end of my leg. Like I could easily squash bugs and small birds alike underfoot, without blinking an eye. Is this how horses feel when they are first shod?
…I could easily squash bugs and small birds alike underfoot, without blinking an eye.
I have one small complaint however: the upwards curve of the sole at the toes does produce a forward rolling emotion that might make me seasick if I attempted to run in them. (If I was so foolish as to attempt such a stunt.) No, these shoes require a delicate gait; a mincing prance that I always imagined eighteenth century dandies were forced to adopt in their ridiculous high heels.
The first time I wore them in public, I gingerly walked down to the bus stop, bracing myself for a general public outcry. In fact, an elderly gentleman of the road couldn’t stop staring at me in disbelief for the entire trip to Thornbury.
These little beauties are awesome for creating a sensation: jaws drop; loud, predictable exclamations follow. All that attention is quite tiresome, even for me. This is the real reason I have only worn them about three times…
Lethal Weapons for Ladies
So many hats, so little time. Quite besides that, some of my vintage hats do perplex me: how on earth did women get them to stay on their heads – especially when it was howling a gale out there? Or maybe they didn’t go out in the wind?
The answer is old-fashioned hatpins of course. After having a little look at a myriad online, I dithered, unable to choose. Fortuitously I came across this little one in a charity shop, decorated with pretty glass pearls in delicate shades of mint and celadon. It has quite a spike on it. In fact, you could have someone’s eye out with that if you weren’t careful.
Now I have two additional problems: 1) ruining said vintage hats by sticking the pin through them, and 2) ruining my head by sticking the pin into it.
Out Of Granma’s Dusty Yurt
I quite like ethnic jewellery when it is quirky and interesting — preferably old, if not antique — and definitely not of airport souvenir ilk.
This necklace is actually made up of two separate pieces that originated on different continents, but they suit each other perfectly.
Woven from white seed beads, the necklace is vintage 1940s; I found it years ago at the Camberwell Sunday Market. I avoid wearing it with my hair down however, because it tends to get tangled in the tiny gaps between the beads. It immediately came to mind when I first held the tassel and pondered how to wear it.
An Afghani vintage piece and one of a pair, the 20cm tassel pendant is from Palm Beads, a jewellery boutique I often browse in. These decorative tassels were originally worn by nomads, often in the hair. Some were hung in the yurt (to ward off the Evil Eye), although they, and other ethnic embroideries, are now viewed as rather old-fashioned.
I disagree, but I am not a nomad of course. For me it is a striking piece that conjures up exotic lands and times, rather than granma’s dusty yurt!
Love it? Here is another for sale.
Did Aristocrats Eat Krispy Kremes?
Last year I did a short course in basic ceramics. I made the obligatory pots and bowls and plates, but I was more interested in my own agenda than the teacher’s. I planned to make some ceramic sculptures and jewellery pieces.
The sculptures were lifesize models of original glaze Krispy Kreme donuts. They turned out better than I hoped – and look good enough to eat (if you weren’t afraid of breaking your tooth on them).
The jewellery pieces consist of pendants and random earring dangles embossed with guipure lace patterns. Some are glazed green, some blue. The bow pendant above was almost an afterthought. Made from bisque clay, it is finished with a clear glaze, and slightly rough around the edges owing to my haste in modelling it at the end of a session.
I do like it however, suspended on a black velvet ribbon that is itself finished with a bow. The ribbon motif makes me think eighteenth century jewellery; its creamy richness of the fair skin of those voluptuous beauties who would have worn them. Those aristocrats were plump from indolence though, not Krispy Kremes.
Turkish Music in My Ears
I have always loved studying history, and particularly the art and culture of the ancient world. As a young teen I was particularly drawn to the jewellery of Egypt, Mesopotamia, and the Ottoman empire, fascinated not only by their design, but by their sheer age. I used to like to imagine the young women who would wear these pieces: what life must have been like for them, how they must have felt.
Nowadays I am still drawn to antique jewellery, or modern replicas of them. When I travel overseas, I always find myself spending a lot of shopping time looking at (and buying) ethnic jewellery.
I hankered after these earrings for a couple of weeks before I finally bought them, from Palm Beads, a Melbourne boutique I have been shopping at for nearly 20 years. They quickly became favourites. Abdul, one of the staff, informed me that they were made with replicas of Turkish coins. They are quite heavy, and dangle like a cluster of grapes from my ears, jingling gently when I walk…
Exotic music in my ears that makes me long to walk once more through the bazaars and souqs of the East, with foreign coins jingling in my purse.