A tale of two jackets

Whenever I shop overseas I always have fun in Zara. It is like a treasure-trove for someone who shops there so seldom.

When I walk in the door, I like to do a little reconnaissance before I return to choose the first armload of items to try on. Then if I am not quite satisfied with my haul, I go back for a second look, minutely inspecting the racks in case some sweet morsel had escaped my gimlet eye on the first round. I regret that last time I did not, after all, snaffle that grey silk blouson with little indigo stars all over it. What was I thinking?

I am unfailingly drawn to jackets and I own more than I could reasonably expect to wear in a single season.

However, I did snatch up a chocolate-brown, cropped jacket featuring a large collar and asymmetrical cut. I am unfailingly drawn to jackets and I own more than I could reasonably expect to wear in a single season. I don’t even want to get onto the subject of storage!

I noticed almost immediately that this Zara jacket was like the summer, or ‘lite’ version of a cropped, puffy, Elizabethan-collared jacket I had bought two years earlier in Hong Kong. Even the fabric was the virtually the same, in look if not composition.

Obviously unpopular with the locals, the puffy jacket was jammed on a rack exploding with its duplicates. I was immediately delighted by it and paid about AU$22 for the privilege of walking out the door with it.

Admittedly it is a little eccentric: a strange lovechild born from 80s sportswear and swingy 50s style. I feel like Sean Young’s character Rachael in Blade Runner when I wear it, yet its cropped length and three-quarter sleeves are impractical for winter.

It was a perfect parka, though, for my 12-year-old niece when she and her dad landed on my doorstep one chilly Saturday afternoon. She needed something to wear to the footy; there is a delicious irony in that.

I adore them both however: one is a perfect topper for warmer months; the other never fails to make me laugh with its frivolity.

Special thanks go to Rapunzel for finding the Wall Street Journal article.

‘Fall on your face in those bad shoes’

Pretty shoes are nice enough in their own way. They have their place. Garden parties. Weddings. Meeting your new boyfriend’s parents for the first time.

But give me killer heels for stomping concrete in the city … fierce shoes to break men’s hearts into little tiny pieces and grind them in the dirt! (Not that I would do that of course.)

But give me killer heels for stomping concrete in the city…

There’s a line in a Pixies song about a woman falling on her face in her bad shoes. I often toyed with various notions on what Black Francis meant exactly.

I think I know now.

They weren’t ugly, or disgracefully worn out; they were high and made for teetering, like my new little beauties above. Fortunately I haven’t planted my face in the sidewalk … yet. 

Tame, from Doolittle by the Pixies

got hips like cinderella
must be having a good shame
talking sweet about nothing
cookie i think you're
tame

i'm making good friends with you
when you're shaking your good frame
fall on your face in those bad shoes
lying there like you're tame

uh huh huh

tame

Silver I have, gold none

I like white metal best, be it white gold, sterling silver, or stainless steel. I’m not a massive fan of base metals, but I admit I own a pair of nickel earrings: fabulous and enormous hoops with dangles.

I suspect this new cuff is of even lesser pedigree, sadly. Possibly even aluminium or some such other inferior material. However, I decided I liked the Celtic design so much that it should be permitted to grace my wrist. In fact, I bought it yesterday from an op-shop for $5, and already took it out for an air today.

It was actually a second; broken; but hey presto it took me less than a minute to fix it with my jewellery pliers!

You can see I like woven metal. I absolutely adore this stainless steel Kenneth Cole watch with its rectangular, pearlised face. It has had a rough life. I dropped it one too many times on my ceramic-tiled floor with the result that the minute hand loosened. Distraught, I took it to the nearest jeweller on Chapel St. They quoted me over $100 to handle the operation, as they would have to go through the back, dismantling its innards before being able to attend to the dysfunctional hand.

As much as I loved the watch, I declined their kind offer, for I had paid far less for it on eBay. It would be cheaper to simply replace it, and I went so far as to track down the seller, who obligingly auctioned another one just for me.

Meanwhile, I thought I may as well get a second opinion, and this time went to East Richmond where I had once had a battery replaced in another watch. They quoted me $10 for a swift overnight operation. Thank you very much.

On my left hand are two rings I always wear together: the top one with a concave curve, the bottom, convex. I have long loved Russian wedding rings, where three rings are intertwined; the ring on my right hand is based on this idea. A thin ring of polished circular wire is interlocked with a wide, matt band. They are all sterling silver, from Roun, and have seen many years of wear.

Next up is a Danish Skagen mesh watch. Of course I love the silver, but perhaps it’s time to give rose gold a try?

Pretty – and unnecessary?

I go second-hand shopping for two reasons: one, it’s fun, because you never know what you might find; and two, I’m saving for a sunshine-and-shopping fuelled holiday in December (will there be op-shops where I’m going?).

Many people make their ‘savings’ at sale time, and you know what they say: a bargain is not a bargain unless you actually need it. Of course, for women this does not usually apply when it comes to clothes, shoes, bags, jewellery, perfume and/or makeup. (Did I leave anything out?) We need those things. However, if we can save a few dollars, that will make us feel both happy and virtuous.

There are several sources for second-hand treasures. I am fortunate in that there are six op-shops and at least five vintage boutiques near my place of employment, and many a happy lunch hour has been spent in the avid pursuit of a bargain. I call it ‘hope-shopping’, because you never know whether you’re going to come away empty-handed or carrying a swag of stuff.

It’s a bit like gambling: riding that wave of uncertainty; not knowing whether I’ll be triumphant or disappointed by the time I return to my desk.

Going further afield there are places such as Camberwell Market; Round She Goes, and of course clothing-exchanges-with-a-cocktail. And let us not forget eBay.

DFO, by comparison, is expensive and certainly does not deliver the same thrill as finding a pair of Veronika Maine linen/silk-mix pants that look hitherto unworn for only $10 – or less, if you’re lucky.

Which brings me to last week’s bargains… an MNG mint-green, cotton cardigan ($5.75), in mint condition. Pretty (almost too pretty for me), but will go admirably with a Veronika Maine diagonally-striped mint-green and white silk dress I bought on eBay. Just fine for summer holiday evenings.

Continuing the green theme, I found a polka-dot t-shirt with the cutest puffed and gathered sleeves you ever did see. I was undecided until I tucked it into the skirt I was wearing that day. Works. Only $4.75. (Both pictured in main photo.)

I also found a navy, rayon beaded scarf (above left) with the tiniest hint of purple in it for $3.50. I’m not sure if I would wear it, but if not, I’m positive one of my sisters would like it. Rayon is a natural fibre based on wood cellulose, but is not as enivoronmentally-friendly as its younger cousin Lyocell is to manufacture.

And lastly, a tomato-red wool knit T by Bracewell (above), for the princely sum of $6.75. Never mind the fact that I already have a VM top in that colour, and am getting rid of a Jigsaw wool short-sleeved knit in the exact same shade of red (a BrandSmart ‘bargain’ which I wore maybe once). Bracewell, I said. It was $6.75. A bargain!

So, to appease my conscience, I am finally going to start selling some outcasts on eBay myself, starting with these gorgeous striped sailor trousers* (above). They were a ‘bargain’, from an Alice Euphemia sale a few years ago. The problem was, they were too big to start with and I convinced myself they wouldn’t fall down, and now that I’ve lost weight from all that martial arts training, they don’t stay up at all. I’m very sad about it (not the losing weight part).   

Secondly, a Phillips sleeveless silk top (right). So, so pretty, but so not me! Again, it is too large. Need I mention that this was another ‘bargain’ bought from Cream, the second-hand designer boutique on Chapel St, in Windsor?

Farewell it is. Sigh.

* Trousers are not as big as they appear.