Rhoda Wager: Fine Wrought Jewels

CELEBRATING THE ROARING TWENTIES IN A SPECIAL SERIES

When I was at art college I discovered Greville St in Prahran, back when it was ungentrified, full of vintage stores and quirky boutiques. I used to browse among the jewels of Palm Beads – almost the only store from back then that is still open today. I bought an expensive ring – so far beyond my impecunious student budget that I had to put it on lay-by – that, the owner informed me, was inspired by Rhoda Wager, a jewellery designer of the 1920s.

So far, so fabulous, but I couldn’t find any information on her (the world wide web was in its infancy); not so now.

Rhoda Wager was born in London in 1875, attending the local art school and in the early nineteen-noughties she was studying under Bernard Cuzner, a talented silversmith. Late in 1913, she emigrated to Fiji, living on her brother’s sugar plantation, and then settled in Sydney in 1918, where she resumed jewellery-making.

A review of her work in 1925 stated ‘her work is wrought from beginning to end. Each flower, stem and leaf or berry is made separately and soldered on bit by bit'. Her favourite stones were opals and yellow sapphires, and she incorporated foliage (not Australian flora, as is often assumed) into her designs. As well as the standard jewellery items such as brooches, rings, pendants and bracelets, she also wrought belt buckles and spoons, personalizing them for individual clients.

A strong businesswoman, she designed, executed, marketed and sold her work herself. In 1928 she apprenticed her sixteen-year-old niece, Dorothy Wager, and trained her to work in the Arts and Crafts style. In 1946, Wager retired to Brisbane where she died in 1953.

She produced some twelve thousand pieces of jewellery during her career, and was much copied by other jewellers. Her work was so expertly designed however, that such copies were inevitably inferior.

My ring is such one modern example, made from sterling silver and blue glass that shines violet when it catches the light.

A Spanish Spring

Holiday shopping is the best shopping you can do. Why? Because when faced with the terrible decision of whether to purchase some little tidbit or not, you can, with a clear conscience, ask yourself “when am I going to be in Barcelona/Sitges/Marrakesh/Saigon/Hong Kong/Dubai again?” and then you can quite happily go ahead and buy the thing. Of course, you might run into trouble when your bag starts getting fat and you still have miles to go.

Oh, you don’t know where Sitges is? I threw that in because that is where I sprang upon this delicious coil of lipstick red leather. Sitges is a little Spanish coastal resort town full of twisty streets and positively stuffed with tempting boutiques. Like most coastal resort towns it is quite expensive, but I managed to find some souvenir bargains. I don’t remember the name of this particular boutique, but I do recall I didn’t like much else in the shop (or maybe it was just outrageously expensive and I convinced myself I didn’t like it), except for this snakeskin bracelet. So the spring was sprung.

It looks like a little sculpture, doesn’t it? I don’t know how or with what the designer treated it, but it has quite a lot of tension in it that does not seem wholly due to its shape. If I stretch it out it – ahem, if you’ll excuse the pun – just springs back to its original form. Cute, si?

A MINI TRAVEL ALBUM

Bits and Bobs …

A little tongue-in-cheek, but that’s my modernised version of the old adage.

Blame my retro on the wig box. That funny little cardboard box once held tresses by Tovar. Not a whole wig, mind you; it wouldn’t fit. This box was for a switch.

The H&O Covabob – It hides the bob (from Jazz, Gin & the Cat’s Meow)I remember first hearing that term in a vintage Archie comic, a long time ago. Veronica had a long switch of black hair and bewitched Archie and Reggie with it, much to Betty’s annoyance. Or was it Betty who got hers first? Yes, and then Ronnie went one better. I guess it was called a switch because you could switch it back into your short hair – much like the vintage illustration of the flapper switch (right) – ‘The Covabob hides the bob’. Don’t you love that slogan?

I don’t own any switches (my own hair is more than long enough), although I do own several cheap bobs, in black, blonde and blue – naturally. I next want one in cotton-candy pink.

It’s just bits and bobs I keep in this box these days. 

Three’s A Charm

Earlier this year I wrote about a fashion mission I undertook: three holidays, three vintage finds. One of them was an antique cash register key that had been repurposed as a pendant. Quite cute in itself, but I decided the necklace would be much more quirky and individual with a little collection of charms.

I’ve never been a fan of charm bracelets: they were too irritating, dangling around the wrist and getting in the way. Also, they were extremely popular when I was a teenager, and that instantly reduced their desirability in my eyes. But a charm necklace I could do.

So far I have collected three little pendants: the aforementioned cash register key, a little sterling silver heel, and an antique Moroccan coin gifted me last year, from a warm-hearted woman who took an instant liking to me. I am currently on the look out for some kind of hat pendant, but I haven’t seen anything I like yet. 

Cherry Temptation

Who can resist a cherry? They are so sweet, so luscious and plump. They make such charming decorative objects too, especially when trimmed on hats and dangling from ears. (Who remembers hanging double cherries from their ears as a child, and swinging their head from side to side, like my sister Star and I?) When I saw this necklace in a gorgeous little boutique in Noosa, I couldn’t resist reaching out to make it mine. It’s delicious, isn’t it?