In a Ruffle

Celebrating the Roaring Twenties in a Special Series

Here’s a real flapper silhouette for you: straight and long with a close-fitting cloche on top. Something about the combination of black and white – and silver in this case – seems quintessentially Twenties; minimal and slick. This ruffled woven raffia hat is actually from the 1960s, designed during a resurgence of interest in Art Deco style at that time.

During and after WWII, Art Deco had fallen out of favour not only due to wartime austerities, but also because it was perceived to be inappropriately luxurious. Its influence was felt with the 1974 film version of The Great Gatsby, and we are surely set to see modern flapper fashion with Baz Luhrman’s coming interpretation of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s book.

Fashion Notes

I bought the hat from The Victory Theatre on a daytrip into the Blue Mountains when I visited Sydney back in February. The blouse is by Oxford, the skirt Veronika Maine, and the necklace from Eccentrix.

Queen of the May

Did you know it’s May Day today? In the northern hemisphere this time of year was traditionally celebrated with dancing around maypoles and the crowning of a May Queen in honour of springtime fertility. The origin of May Day holidays lie in the festivals of Flora, the Roman goddess of flowers, and the Gaelic Beltane.

I am crowning myself Queen of the May today with a vintage 1950s red velvet bandeau bedecked in silk flowers. This gathering of red and white carnations is over-the-top in both senses of the word. 

Queen Guinevere’s Maying, John Collier, 1900

May Day, being a spring festival, is not celebrated in Australia since May falls in autumn (pardon the pun). What a pity, because what silly fun it must be to skip around a flower-bedecked maypole like Guinevere. Amusingly, Wikipedia describes a May Day procession as ‘cheerfully pointless’ – but that’s the point surely? Everyone feels more lighthearted when the sun shines, and when better to throw an alfresco party!

The Volcano Hat

Last year a cream and navy straw hat from the 1940s exploded into my life. I say ‘exploded’ because the online seller at Another Time Vintage Apparel called it her ‘volcano’ hat. I thought this quite an apt description, as the little hat seems to tilt up out of itself, with the navy grosgrain ribbon placed tumbling out of the well in the centre, somewhat like lava pouring out of a volcano.

The tilt hats popular in the 1940s are perhaps my favourite style just because the precarious angle at which they are worn is quite jaunty – and rather saucy! The downturned brim of some of them allows one to perfect the coy upward glance gentleman find so intriguing.

I also love the way the tilts seem to defy gravity and stiff breezes alike – it’s all down to bins and elastics securing these confections to one’s head. This was a lot easier to do when I wore my long hair in a French roll though – there was something to anchor the hats to. Cloches suit my current hairstyle more, but there’s no way I’m giving up my tilt hats any time soon. My flirting technique would be completely crippled.

The Lolliest Beads Of All

A few years ago I came across some of the biggest beads I’d ever seen. Each of those gorgeous gob stoppers was over an inch in diameter. I beheld a glorious vision of a necklace that Betty and Wilma would have been proud to own. 

Since then I have in fact bought bigger beads, overseas and on holiday in Queensland, Australia. But at least I could still say for a fact that these beads were the lolliest I’ve ever seen. Until …

Some time after I made my necklace I came across a vintage 60s Lucite bead necklace on eBay. It was almost exactly the same, apart from a few minor design details, and the colour of course. The chain extender is handy, and the smaller beads at the end would help the necklace sit nicely around the neck. But for all these benefits, and as much as I usually love candy pink and grey, happily I still prefer my own necklace because the colours are much warmer in tone.

And who would want to eat a grey lolly after all?

If the Cap Fits …

Celebrating the Roaring Twenties in a Special Series

The Vintage Hat Series: 1920s red velvet pixie cloche by S. J. Maughan of Convent GardenAnother hat in my collection is this red velvet pixie cloche, an original chapeau from the 1920s.

I purchased it on eBay, from a UK seller. They had photographed it completely flat, so it was difficult to visualise how it would look on, and the measurements were suspect. However, they simply couldn’t be bothered answering my queries. (Note to any online sellers reading this: service is important.) Annoyed by their inability to reply to emails, I sadly decided not to bid. (That would punish them.)

However, months later I happened upon the hat again: it had been relisted. 1920s … cloche … red velvet, extremely low asking price … It all added up to one thing: I couldn’t say no. If I recall correctly, I believe I won the auction for a measly £7 or so.

When the hat finally arrived, I fortunately found it did fit me even though the original supplied measurements indicated it was an inch too small. It took some time for me to work out the correct way to wear it though. Because this looks ridiculous:

Looking sillyI look like one of those red-hatted garden gnomes (how apt that the cap was designed by a milliner based in Convent Garden), and I strongly suspect this is the reason why the seller ignored my polite request to see the hat on a model. Worn this way, however, looks very very cute, don’t you think? There is a positive WORLD of difference between a pixie and a gnome! 

Looking demure