Archive
- Behind the Screens 9
- Bright Young Things 16
- Colour Palette 64
- Dress Ups 60
- Fashionisms 25
- Fashionistamatics 107
- Foreign Exchange 13
- From the Pages of… 81
- G.U.I.L.T. 10
- Little Trifles 126
- Lost and Found 89
- Odd Socks 130
- Out of the Album 39
- Red Carpet 3
- Silver Screen Style 33
- Sit Like a Lady! 29
- Spin, Flip, Click 34
- Vintage Rescue 20
- Vintage Style 157
- Wardrobe 101 148
- What I Actually Wore 163
Sundae Dreams
I often like to window shop on Etsy. I can waste a great deal of time in that pleasant occupation (sometimes for legitimate research), and over the years have collected quite a number of lovely favourites. Most of the items I genuinely consider buying, but I am usually content to merely ogle them for a while until I determine just how much I want them.
Sometimes there’s no time for such shenanigans though, and I’ve seen a few things snapped up beneath my nose. Other times I’ve had ample time to buy, but I’ve held off because they were a wee bit expensive, or I didn’t like them quite enough – and then someone else has come and snapped them up from beneath my nose anyway and I discover (by the sharp pangs in my heart) that I really did want that thing after all. Phooey.
…I am usually content to merely ogle them for a while until I determine just how much I want them
And then there are the things I tuck away into my favourites folder that I simply adore but they tragically do not fit me – or they are so astronomically priced that I couldn’t possibly afford to buy them. I have no regrets (no big ones that is) if they sell. After all, if I couldn’t have them in my home to pet and admire, then someone else may as well enjoy them.
So, from the top, left to right:
- A delicious little pistachio cashmere 1950s cardigan with satin appliqué (discovered on a random Google)
- A J. Crew ruched chiffon swimsuit (seen on some blog somewhere long out of season)
- A 1940s ‘mile wide’ red sunhat (but too similar to a white one I already own)
- A 1960s fishscale beaded tank (cruelly snatched from my grasp);
- A mint and white 1950s gown fit for a prom queen (but alas did not fit me)
- A striped red and white 1930s suit (also too small)
- A reproduction 17th century Venetian corset (I dithered, I admit);
- A tomato red beaded cardigan (stolen right out of my favourites folder); and,
- A simply divine ‘1910's Antique Vintage Opulent Crisp-White Handmade Irish-Crochet Lace Floral-Motif Edwardian Victorian Sheer-Couture Low-Cut Plunge Goddess Bell-Sleeve Flapper Fairy-Princess Boudoir Garden Wedding Formal Cocktail Party Trained Dress-Jacket Coat’ (a steal at $990 … what?).
Poetic Pedigree
Likely every style of hat has an interesting history, but perhaps the origin of the tam is one of the most lyrical – literally.
The Tam o’ Shanter was a Scottish bonnet originally worn by men. It was named after Tam o’ Shanter, a character in Robert Burns’ 1791 gothic poem of the same name.
Reminiscent of a beret, the tam is a floppy hat with a pompom in the centre. Its upstanding crown is sometimes up to twice the diameter of the head. The original men’s woollen hat was made only in blue due to the lack of chemical dyes, but today the masculine version comes in tartan and can be worn casually with Highland dress.
Who knows how quick women were to notice the cuteness of this headwear, but they appropriated the Tam o’ Shanter for themselves and shortened its name to ‘tam’ or ‘tammy’. Taking it from traditional uniform into the realm of fashion, women didn’t stop at woollen plaid.
Anything with a pompom gets my vote, although my deliciously golden velvet tam has a black silk velvet button instead.
What Lies Beneath
This last week I finally got round to watching season four of Mad Men. There were the usual shenanigans to gasp over and gorgeous vintage fashion to make me drool.
In one of the episodes Peggy strips off, and I was amused by her hefty underwear: there was absolutely nothing pretty, dainty or sexy about her brassiere! It was there to lift and separate, and it did the job admirably. In another scene as she sat down on Don’s office couch, one could see the froth of her crinoline peeping out from the hem of her skirt – a sweeter effect.
…there was absolutely nothing pretty, dainty or sexy about her brassiere!
That’s what this vintage 50s dress of mine needs to make the pleated skirt bell out. I was first attracted to it by its colour – my favourite shade of robin’s egg blue, with a geometric print. I pounced on it in a Sacred Heart Mission op shop last summer; it’s rare to find a dress from this era that is in almost perfect condition in a Melbourne charity shop. I dressed it up with pretty patent heels that have a little bow on the back of the heel; bright red lipstick (‘Raven Red’ by Revlon); and a French roll (I can do them again now my hair’s shorter).
A man at work glimpsed me loitering by the laser printer, and exclaimed, “You look just like you stepped off the set of Mad Men!” I smiled at the intended compliment, but it’s never my aim to look like I’m wearing a costume. However, a nipped in waist and full skirt will always recall Dior’s New Look, and even more so these days with the popularity of the said TV show.
Of course, I could accessorise the dress differently to negate this effect (being careful not to look like an ‘80s does 50s’ rendition), but these proportions do look right just as they are.
Image note: the yellow kitchen belongs to the hostel Barcelona Rooms, where I stayed in Barcelona in early June.
No Colour in the Street!
I found this wonderful little book The Well-dressed Woman’s Do’s & Don’ts in a small bookshop near my parents’ home. It was first published in 1925, and was written by Elise Vallée.
The chapters cover what exactly it means to be ‘well-dressed’ for the 1920s woman; to maquillage or not; the correct lingerie; dressing for one’s figure; what a smart, modern woman’s wardrobe should contain: coats (in particular, fur), hats, dresses, and other accessories such jewellery, shoes and gloves.
The Parisienne
She declares that ‘it could not be denied that the Frenchwoman, or more particularly, the Parisienne holds the undisputed position as the model for women of all other countries’ and ‘[she] may be said to look upon herself as a “Mannequin,” which it is her privilege to display to the world as effectively as it is in her power to do’.
‘the Parisienne holds the undisputed position as the model for women of all other countries’
To put it simply, the Parisienne carefully assesses and makes the best of what nature has given her, takes care of her person, and dresses for her figure. Above all, she pays serious attention to the details, ‘without which the best and most expensive of clothes will make little impression’.
Here are some of Elise’s pearls of wisdom:
General style
Don’t think that in buying smart clothes you have done all that is necessary.
Don’t economise on your elastic belts, and Do wear them next to your skin.
Maquillage
Don’t use too fine a powder. Never use a white powder.
Don’t use a greasy lip-stick, or one that gives a brown or violet tinge.
Don’t dye your hair at all if you can make it look nice without.
Wardrobe
Don’t have lots of clothes for the same kind of occasion: it is extravagant and unnecessary.
Never buy cheap clothes; they are also extravagant and dowdy as well.
Don’t wear country clothes in town.
Don’t order coloured suits, unless very dark ones.
Coats
Don’t be hasty in the purchase of a fur coat.
Don’t choose a fancy or elaborate shape, and Don’t have bright linings.
Don’t say black doesn’t suit you until you have tried a black dress [ie, coat] with your face skin as near perfection as you can make it.
Do wear dark colours in the street.
Frocks
Never go out in the street without a coat or fur or some sort of wrap over your frock.
Don’t wear colours in the street.
Don’t, as a general rule, wear low dresses to dine in restaurants, or, if you do, never leave your cloak in the cloak-room.
Hats
Do have your hats made to measure.
Do have a really good milliner and
Don’t change your milliner.
Do wear a brim shaped to flatter your face.
Don’t wear a narrow crown unless your face is pointed.
Don’t wear your hat perched on top of your head.
Don’t wear a tight hat if you have a full face.
Evening Dresses
Don’t fill your wardrobe with expensive and elaborate evening dresses.
Do be careful that they should not look theatrical.
Don’t wear a mass of jewels; have a few good ones.
Colour
Why were there such strict rules about colour? ‘The well-dressed woman who is sure of her ”Mannequin” [ie, figure or person] should wear dark clothes in the street and keep colours for indoor occasions when she will have the advantage of a softer and more becoming light.’
Fail!
There are lots more regulations besides. I wonder what on earth Elise would think of today’s fashions? I would fail on several counts: I’ve worn brown-tinged lippy; I dye my hair; I wear colours in the street; and I might own one or two garments that look somewhat theatrical. I do like her rules about milliners though…
Shades of grey-blue
The dictionary will tell you that French blue is an ultramarine pigment, originally prepared from powdered lapis lazuli. Modern interior decorators however have a very different view. The generally accepted description is a chic, almost sombre shade of grey-blue. It is sophisticated, rather than girly.
But what makes this shade of blue specifically French? According to Wikipedia its name is derived from the shade of blue associated with the heraldry of French kings since the 12th century. Referring to antique paintings, this is an ultramarine blue as in the French national flag of today. A brighter shade of this same blue is the ‘Bleu de France’ that was once the national racing colour of France. It is as clear as a summer sky.
An online search of images will produce many shades of blue that could also be variously described as wedgewood, periwinkle, petrol, aquamarine, ultramarine, pale blue and, to be tongue-in-cheek, even business shirt blue!
My very sweet vintage 40s hat of double bows, bought from the eBay store Tarnished Past Vintage Hats, is made from wool felt, with a bit of mink trim. The netting is trimmed along the edge with tiny light blue felt squares.