Point me to the boulevard, s'il vous plaît

I call this my hybrid Belle Époque–vaguely forties–with a touch of Helmut Newton’s sixties–new look. I have never worn this outfit on the street before, but there is a strong possibility I will one day: in my fantasy I am strolling down some seaside boulevard under a blazing summer sun. The light sparkles on the waves of the ocean, a breeze ruffles across my arms…

It all began with the serendipitous discovery of the peplum-style top.

As delightfully frivolous as it is, this top is by no means perfect. It is, for starters, a size too small. This unfortunate defect necessitates much undignified gyrating and jumping up and down just to do up the zip.

Each time I put it on and wrestle for grim death with the zip, I mutter through gritted teeth: “I’ve done it up before; I can do it up again!”

When finally I tug it all into place I understand the difficulties women had breathing when wearing corsets. Notwithstanding the constrictions of my ribcage, the plunging neckline gapes somewhat as I lack the physical endowment to fill it out.

On the pro side of the list: it is adorable! I like the colours, the geometric pattern and most of all the peplum-like balloon shape. Its exaggerated proportions demanded a contrasting lower half. I remembered the very long and narrow, navy linen Donna Karan skirt I had put aside, unworn.

I had not yet tried the outfit on, but it put me in mind of something a Belle Époque beauty might have worn whilst taking a turn on the promenade in gentlemanly company. That evocative picture plainly required the presence of a hat to complete it. And I had just the one: an enormous red saucer by Mimco. Uncrushable, it can be moulded into any shape.

It still left an expanse of bare flesh that demanded decoration; so on went half a dozen bangles that I never ordinarily wear (they hamper me), and a necklace handmade by myself from golf-ball-sized translucent beads. Green platform heels by Mollini were the last accessory to complete the ensemble.

Below are the vintage originals that evoke the spirit of my strange hybrid.

Both fashion plates possess different but similarly exaggerated proportions. At the turn of the 20th century, long narrow skirts became fashionable, called the ‘hobble-skirt’ – because women did, of course. It wasn’t enough to restrict their breathing!

The wasp waist and enormous skirt of the forties’ New Look translates into my tight empire-line waist and billows of fabric. Mini peplums (above left) and narrow skirts were also popular. These two looks below are from the fifties.

Quite different to mine, this hat (left) is also large enough to hide the face and retain a sense of mystery – and of course shelter one from the blistering rays of the Australian sun.

The look of now, on the beaches; a back bared beautifully to the waistline, and the stunning counterpoint of a hat as wide and sheltering as a beach umbrella. This one, in mango pink straw, is anchored against lifting sea breezes with a wimple of nylon marquisette. Weedmans, Brisbane and Surfers Paradise, 84s.

Main photo: original photograph of backdrop by Robin Lowe.
Illustration credits: (Top left) Fashion plate, 1912-13, Dresa, from A History of Costume in the West by François Boucher; Thames & Hudson, 1966. (Top right) Pochoir fashion illustration Dieu! qu'il fait froid by Georges Lepape of a fur-edged coat by Paul Poiret, for La Gazette du bon ton, 1913, from The Fine Art of Fashion by Julian Robinson; Bay Books. (Middle left) ph: Henry Clarke, 1953; (middle right) ph: Henry Clarke, 1951; (bottom left) ph: Irving Penn, 1959; (bottom right) ph: Henry Clarke, 1956; all from In Vogue, by Georgina Howell; Condé Nast Books, 1991. (Left) Australian Vogue,  Summer 1960; ph: Helmut Newton.

A good hat is (not) hard to find

Hats – as we all know – were once, along with gloves and stockings de rigueur on any trip from home. Such accessories added a certain level of interest to a woman’s outfit that sadly few of us take advantage of these days, except perhaps out of practicality in the blaze of summer or the depths of Melbourne’s arctic winters.

I’m certainly not suggesting a return to the days when one was obliged to follow society’s sartorial decrees or be branded a brazen hussy – like poor Jean Shrimpton at the Melbourne Cup in 1965. With the Spring Racing Carnival galloping into view however, could we regain a sense of adventure; a little modish bravery? Or, dare I say, return to elegance?

Flocks of women will undoubtedly descend upon Cleggs, or Lincraft to take advantage of the sudden influx of plain straw hats, bedeck them with multi-coloured ribbons and feathers galore. And God save me from seeing yet another excuse for a hat: the ubiquitous fascinator!

Yet all these creations have a sad commonness about them: at the one time of year when many women feel confident enough to wear a hat, few stand out as originals.

It’s true spectacular hats are expensive. They’re locked safely behind glass like birds of paradise, in department stores and exclusive boutiques alike, and bespoke hats are beyond the reach of most women (including myself). Occasionally however, one can get lucky wandering amongst the hat stands in David Jones. Vintage shopping also offers brilliant opportunities to score an original piece: at markets, op-shops or vintage emporiums such as Chapel Street Bazaar; eBay is also a fantastic source. This is where often you will find quality at a price that won't make you wince.

“Oh, hats just don’t seem to suit me!” is another disclaimer I’ve heard many times. The truth is, hats work on the same principle as hairstyles: different ones work with different face shapes – one just needs to find which suit. Most importantly – and this is often overlooked – one’s hairstyle needs to work with the hat, not against it! Many hats look terrible with long hair casually worn down; hair and hat fight one another for attention, and then nobody wins.

So no more excuses: scroll down and take some inspiration from the pages of Vogue. 

Hat, 1946 (uncredited), from In Vogue, Georgina Howell, Condé Nast Books, 1991. Photo: Horst P. Horst

‘Paris night looks – needed in London’, British Vogue, January 1947. Photos: Coffin

British Vogue, June 1960. Photo: Uncredited

British Vogue, June 1960. Photo: Henry Clarke

British Vogue, June 1960. Photo: Rutledge