Cop it Sweet

A few months ago my friend Sapphire and I went down the coast to Geelong for our annual vintage hunting trip. One of the items I bought that day was this little gendarme-style hat, by Prada. It was Sapphire in fact who first picked it up out of a jumble on an enormous table, but she wasn’t interested in it and cast it aside.

It is based on a French kepi. This style of hat was most commonly associated with the French military and police uniforms. The first versions appeared in the mid nineteenth century, and were worn without a chinstrap (it’s missing on my own sadly). They became well-known during the Crimean War, and can be seen worn by French officers of that conflict in the photograph below.

A little while later when I made it to that table, I tried it on the abandoned hat and was immediately entranced. The tag dangling off it declared it to cost $8. Later, when I went to pay for it and another straw hat, the man at the till chuckled over it, amazed that I would wear it. “It’s cute!” I declared, and upon request, modelled it for him. He had to agree it was charming. Even sweeter was the subsequent discovery that it was actually 50% off on top.

Photo: March 2017

In the Purple

So here is the violet hat I bought last week in favour of the ugly ruffled number. This hat contrasts on every possible point: size, colour, style quotient. The enormous brim, which can be easily turned up or down (for more serious coverage) in any direction, makes it eminently practical on a hot day, completely shading my face and neck. And the vibrant and dramatic colour gives it huge style points.

The label is Le Panier (French for basket), and is designed in France for adults and children. The hats are handmade from the leaves of the pandanus, raffia and rice plants that are found along the coastal regions of Madagascar, Mauritius and Rodrigues. They also design beach bags and a limited range of homewares.

This particular style – the Capeline – is made from raffia and comes in an array of colours. I also love the striped Demi-Capeline.

Check out their website, though stockists are not listed there; according to their Facebook page, they are currently selling at various markets in Australia – or op shops, if you’re lucky!

Photos: Two days ago

The Good Little Hausfrau and The Evils of Bleach

On the weekend I was being a good little hausfrau and doing all my tedious chores on Saturday. For this special event, I pulled out a fresh tee I hadn’t worn for a while – ever since I assiduously and labouriously removed some ink or paint stains (if memory serves me) from the last time I wore this t-shirt without donning an artist’s smock over the top.

You’d think that would have learned me, but no.

I did not don an apron, but went merrily on my way with my chores. While cleaning the bathroom, energetically employing a bottle of Domestos – a brand of bleach – and generously swirling it around the enamel sink, I must have caught a stray drop with my tee (see depressing detail picture on left). I didn’t spot it until much later, when it was far too late to attempt to soak it out.

Dear Snapettes, it was like one of those ‘command-Z’ life moments, when all you want to do is hit the undo button. But alas, it is impossible. The top is clearly doomed to only and forever be a housework tee.

The moral of this sad tale is of course, wear a housecoat, or even better – pay some cleaners to do the dirty work.

Photos: Yesterday

The Lost Umbrella

A few days ago I lost one of my favourite vintage umbrellas, leaving it behind me at a tram stop in the city. I didn’t realise until I had travelled all the way to my destination and disembarked. As is my habit, I looked behind me to check I had all my belongings and suddenly thought, WHERE IS MY UMBRELLA?

It was a favourite shade of Kelly green with a lemon yellow pearlised plastic handle and cord wristlet (by chance patriotically Australian colours), and I had bought it a year or two before at a vintage bazaar. It was a great smallish size that fit into my work tote bag too, which I had always appreciated.

I had been carrying the umbrella all day, using it first in the morning as a sunscreen, and then, when the weather turned suddenly in the afternoon (as is typical in Melbourne), to keep the rain off. I had put the wet umbrella down so I could put on a jumper as it had turned chilly, and sat down to await my tram.

Then a homeless person standing a few feet away from me suddenly started declaiming political poetry at the top of his voice, startling me, until I realised he had mental health issues and was ranting about sinister conspiracy theories. When my tram arrived a few minutes later, I jumped up with alacrity, eager to escape the crazed rage, and thus forgot my umbrella.

So there I found myself, brolly-less, and upset with myself for being so careless. I couldn’t bear to go home without attempting to recover the umbrella, so I returned to the city on a tram that fortuitously arrived a minute or two later, and I prayed all the way that the umbrella would be miraculously untouched and waiting for me.

More than once I’ve seen lost things taken or kicked about my strangers …

AND IT WAS! Joyfully I snatched it up. Some kind soul had fastened it for me and placed it on a seat in plain view. No one else had taken it! More than once I’ve seen lost things taken or kicked about my strangers, so it was heartening indeed to see my umbrella spared. I didn’t even mind that it had ended up taking me two hours to get home instead of one, I was so happy.

Photos: July 2016

Giving Good Dress

BOO HOO! I have really loved this steamy weather casual dress, but now that it has gone past its expiry date and I am forcing myself to be ruthless by getting rid of it. But before I cast it aside, I must give it a proper goodbye.

I liked everything about it: the jersey fabric, the chevron pattern and the colours, the spaghetti straps and overall ease of wear. It was just so light and comfortable on really hot days. But it has become disgracefully pilled in patches and is not fit for public consumption so I must regretfully bid it farewell.

I think it is not even good enough to go to a charity store, so perhaps I should cut it up for rags? What a prospect, and what a tragic end to a favourite summer frock! Goodbye chevron dress, you served me well.

Photo: January 2017