Jet Set

It was the original Queen Victoria who made a fetish of mourning way back when, and who was responsible for Victorian England’s obsession with death: which included jewellery made from human hair, memento-mori photographs (portraits of deceased loved ones), a love of taxidermy and collecting other old dead things, be they trilobites or butterflies pinned to card.

But one of the prettiest manifestations must be jet beaded clothing and accessories. Mourning was strictly observed (read my full story here), but that didn’t mean one could not be fashionable. A jet-beaded collar is one such beautiful, awe-inspiring accessory.

French mourning dress, by Charlotte Duclos, c. 1910; from The Metropolitan Museum of ArtMy modern interpretation of a Victorian style shawl is by Australian label Witchery (or it could have been Sportsgirl – the label is missing), and is just about one of the loveliest things I own – and that’s saying something! I originally purchased it in a charity shop for $25, but by chance I saw it recently in an old marie-claire magazine, and found the original retail price was $100. It really is beautifully made, embroidered with seed and bugle beads and sequins on a very fine net that is almost invisible, yet it has a distinct weight that betokens quality. I like it paired with this silk drop-waist top – it creates a kind of Victorian x Flapper hybrid silhouette.

DetailJust in case you’d like to purchase one of these jet-beaded capelets for yourself, I’ve found a few pretty examples on Etsy for you – just scroll down and click to buy. 

Victorian, black organdie jet embroidered collar, French, c1890-1910; click through to Etsy store La BohemeBeaded capelet, 1930s; click through to Etsy store BohemiennesAntique beaded capelet; click through to Etsy store Mary Beth Hale

Leaf Me Alone

The Vintage Hat Series: 1950s Grecian-style velvet leaf bandeauWood nymphs, or dryads in Greek mythology, were shy little creatures. Except, apparently, with the goddess Artemis who was fond of them. A minor female nature deity – though not necessarily immortal – a dryad is the spirit of a tree. The name is taken from the Greek word, drys, which means oak.

Nymphs were usually depicted as beautiful and amorous young maidens who loved to dance and sing. Often the target of satyrs, their amorous freedom set nymphs apart from the virtuous Greek ladies – from the sound of it they rarely said leave me alone!

Still, I like to imagine they must have worn some pretty Grecian-style dresses and floral garlands in their hair, not too dissimilar to my leafy velvet bandeau. It is a vintage 50s hat I purchased on eBay. When I first came across the auction, I fell in love with it and determined it must be mine. My highest bid wasn’t totally crazy, and in the end I won it for US$31 – a ridiculously low price. It is the perfect hat to wear in a romantic mood through spring and summer. 

Pale and Interesting

The Vintage Hat Series: 1960s black cellophane straw lattice hatQuite a long time ago I decided that tans were not for me. For one thing, I found it extremely boring to lie in the sun carefully broiling each side like a pale jellyfish, and another, living in Australia made it a serious health hazard, what with holes in ozone layers and wicked burning rays. Of course, as a child and young teen I was as brown as a berry (as they say), simply from playing in the sunshine. But by the time I reached my mid-teens, I decided I would much rather be pale and interesting.

See more parasols on PinterestAt some point I conceived a passion for hats. I am not sure if this was serendipitous – coinciding with Australia’s first skin-cancer awareness campaign* – or if it was actually inspired by my loathing for sunscreen. It’s so gross and sticky, although I should hasten to add I do wear it when swimming. In Australia, however, a hat – unless it has a simply enormous brim – is not enough. I decided to revive the usage of parasols. My very first parasol was a Victorian-inspired calico and Battenberg lace affair that I bought nearly twenty years ago in Queensland. I still use it.

[the hat’s] resemblance to my lace parasol and its dubious ability to protect me from the sun is mildly amusing …

Last year I purchased on eBay a quaint 1960s black cellophane straw hat that is woven into a lattice pattern. I’d never seen anything like it before. Its resemblance to my lace parasol and its dubious ability to protect me from the sun is mildly amusing though. (If you act fast, here’s a similar hat on eBay from Cat’s Pajamas Vintage on sale right now). Unfortunately the hat arrived quite crushed in its box. It would have to be revived.

A different millinery seller had thoughtfully included an instruction sheet for the care of hats with another purchase.

Restoring straw hats

Poor, crushed hat

Brush off any dust with a soft brush. If you need to reshape the crown hold it upside down over steam and move it about for a couple minutes and then place it on a wig stand or stuff the crown with tissue or soft t-shirt material – never, never use newspaper because the ink will transfer. Let it cool and the shape will be restored.

The procedure is simple, but beware of burning your fingers. And the verdict? The shape of the hat has improved, but I do think it could do with another session in the sauna. I may have more luck using a kettle, with the steam coming out with more force, or else the problem lies in it being made from cellophane, rather than natural straw.

Getting my fingers burnedOn the first occasion I wore the hat to work, all the girls exclaimed in delight. In fact, I was so tickled by it when I saw an almost identical white version on eBay I had to buy that too. Just what I need: another holey hat for the summer sun.

For more information on hat care, visit Hat Shapers.

*Australia’s first skin-cancer awareness campaign slogan: “Slip, Slop, Slap – Slip on a t-shirt, slop on some sunscreen and slap on a hat.”

Merry Christmas North and South

Celebrating the Roaring Twenties in a Special Series

If I was celebrating Christmas in the northern hemisphere in the 1920s, I think this is just the coat I would wear to ward off the cold. Isn’t it luxurious, with its fur trim and matching pompommed hat? I was very excited when I realised that my vintage 1970s Stephen Dattner coat was cut along very similar lines – it is just not so full, nor is the rabbit fur trim so extravagant. My fur-trimmed velvet cap is vintage too, even if it doesn’t match.

But here I am in the southern hemisphere in the twenty-teens, and instead I am wearing a vintage 1950s top and a 1980s gold foil rah-rah skirt with my new ikat print heels (scroll down below to see those). The top is not quite ikat printed, but its washy floral has a similar feel, and I was pleased to see that the colours of the shoes and top clash slightly – it’s so much more modern not to match isn’t it? It has a mini-peplum effect which is very now too, although it’s tight enough I might just have to cut back on that third piece of dessert.  

Merry Christmas dear readers, and may your day be beautiful, joyful and bright, wherever you are. 

Millinery Notions

CELEBRATING THE ROARING TWENTIES IN A SPECIAL SERIES

The Vintage Hat Series: 1920s cotton muslin house capOne of the quaintest millinery notions of the 1920s for me is the cotton house or duster cap – worn simply around the house to protect one’s hair from falling cobwebs and other dangerous household detritus. (I may not be dusting a chandelier high above me, but I do have a mirror ball left over from a long ago Poetry & Absinthe party that seems to gather dust all too quickly.)

Bought from Etsy shop Past Perfect Vintage, this cotton muslin cap features the classic frilled 20s bandeau, and mother-of-pearl buttons at the sides of the head. The floral print is as fresh and crisp as though it was actually printed yesterday, but its vintage quality is immediately apparent in the fine workmanship and lovely detailing.

I took it out of the house recently to wear it to work with a summer dress, and was pleased to accept quite a flattering number of compliments. I wonder if a 20s lass would have giggled at the mere notion of wearing such a cap out?