Good Fortune

Kitty, my Canarean friend, recently brought back from Singapore the cutest little present for me: one of those little fold-up hooks that preserves one’s handbag from the perils of restaurant or barroom floors. It is inlaid with mother-of-pearl, painted with lotus blossoms in red.

Suspended from it is one of my most favourite handbags, black, in the crinkle patent leather I like so much. I found the bag in a second hand Red Cross boutique that occasionally sells high quality new items donated by anonymous brands.

It’s so soft and pliable, wearing very well over the last two years (although I don’t use it in the warmer months, black being too heavy). It’s pretty plain too – no obvious branding, which is what I prefer – and it has several compartments inside, making it so easy to organise the contents, and a zip pocket on the outside for my keys. It’s 39cm across the base, and 25cm high (not including the straps), so a perfect size for a day bag, and at $75, it was a steal.

The crinkle patent reminds me of a vintage 60s bag I had when I was a student. It was a classic purse shape, but elongated, with a big snap closure that was forever flipping open – not very secure! Alas it was not leather; the crinkly vinyl eventually started peeling, and the bag was destined for the bin.

Fortunately, my bag hook will preserve this handbag from such an unhappy fate.

Knuckle-Dusters

These little trifles are ceramic rings, souvenirs of my few days in Barcelona. I bought them from a shop called Art Montfalcon, which was truly an Aladdin’s Cave of treasures. I could easily have bought more there, but I stopped at (ahem) five pieces.

Like cartoon rings, they deliver a hefty pop of colour to my hand. They’re real knuckle-dusters too, their size belying their fragility: I knocked the red one in Lisbon, and tragically scraped off a bit of glaze. (But a little bit of paint will fix that.)

As mementoes of Barcelona they are perfect, because they remind me much more of Gaudi’s ceramics (such as the whimsical baskets of fruit atop the Sagrada Familia) than the official souvenirs. 

Roses, Sweet and Red

This rose headband by Morgan & Taylor is the sweetest little trifle I found the other day in a charity shop.

I had taken my niece out op-shopping (at her request) before I night out of dinner and the theatre, and it was I in fact who unexpectedly had the bonanza haul. I found this headband on the front counter while browsing for last minute finds to add to the stockpile.

“Isn’t this sweet?” I cooed to my niece, Rosie-Cheeks, while I simpered in the mirror. She laughed aloud at my antics, and declared that she liked it.

I’ve toughened it up here with a white leather shell top, but I think I’m still missing a few thorns.

A Mermaid’s Treasure

Pearls and moonstones are prettily intertwined together with black thread in this amazing necklace woven for a mermaid. She wears it on the rare occasions when she puts on her legs and a cute frock to go dancing.

I bought this years ago from a jewellery boutique in Melbourne called Larama. I dithered for weeks over its price, but, with my sister’s encouragement, I snapped it up finally for fear someone might beat me to it.

Once I paired it with some giant chandelier earrings also made of pearl. After eyeing me judiciously for a few moments Mum informed me that it was over-the-top. Thanks Mum. Mermaids like to go all out when they get their legs on.

Love Under the Sea, by Kenvin Pinardy

Hearts and Ladders

Hearts, as a motif in fashion, is something that I am generally very much disinterested in. Although I suspected they were not very high-quality and would snag easily, these flocked stockings by Sportsgirl were somehow just too cute to pass by. If they had been opaque stockings, that would have given them the instant kibosh. But the hearts were so little, the effect would create tiny-polka-dotty legs.

The store had a whole range of these tattoo stockings: the classic pair of swallows was another design I liked. Instead I purchased a pair of Belle-Époque style net stockings.

Just as well I photographed the polka-dotted hearts before I wore them out: they didn’t last an hour! By the time I was sitting down at work I discovered a ladder travelling down my left leg. By lunchtime three more had sprouted. I was very cross – heart-broken, even. And by the time I entered the change rooms at my tae kwon do club that evening, my legs were riddled with ladders. My chic French friend took some delight in pointing out this lamentable fact.

I haven’t dared to open the other packet yet.