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
Whatever Happened to the Spencer?
Once upon a time, in the Regency period, the spencer was a woman’s short jacket worn over the long empire-line gowns of the era. Day dresses, particularly for younger women, were usually made from white muslin or other light colours, and the spencer added some colour – as well as warmth – to the ensemble. They often featured puffed shoulders as well as decorative trim in the form of braid or tassels, or intricate detailing in the fabric such as pleats, gathers or ruffles.
My herringbone patterned spencer is by Catalan designer Celia Vela, and is part of a suit. It is an unusual hybrid, featuring an Oriental neckline and closure (those little buttons are a right pain to fasten and undo), but it has puffed and gathered sleeves rather than puffed shoulders in the Regency manner. It was those sleeves that sold me when I saw it in a boutique in Sitges, Spain.
A modern day equivalent to the spencer would be the Spanish bolero, which is most often buttonless and worn open. This more formal and tailored jacket should not be confused with a shrug, or short cardigan, which is typically knitted.
But today there still exists a spencer, in the form of a warm knitted undergarment – that may or may not be matched with that very elegant piece of lingerie, the longjohn. The woollen spencer allows one to wear skimpy clothing in the depths of winter, and is thus a very useful garment to have in one’s arsenal.
For all its brevity my little woollen tank spencer has its own charms, does it not? I did own, once upon a time, a matching long sleeved spencer – the perfect length of the three-quarter sleeves kept it safely out of sight when worn under tops – but it has long-since gone to the Great Tailor in the Sky. I had black and white versions with both long and no sleeves in fact, but only this black tank survives.
Strangely, these versions of the spencer are difficult to find today, which is a pity, for they would prove extremely useful to those pretty young things who insist on gallivanting about on freezing Saturday nights in inappropriately flimsy garments.
Wool-Gathering for Winter
Melbourne’s first day of winter is a fitting entry to the season: the skies are white with clouds overhead, everything is still outside after one of the most sensational thunderstorms in years the night before. The thunder didn’t stop rolling for hours. It’s a day fit for staying indoors, wondering and wool-gathering daydreams.
White for winter is always beautiful, and this vintage 50s wool felt hat found on Etsy is no exception. It features a veil, a large bow at the back, and pretty silver bead and rhinestone embroidery that makes me think of snowflakes.
The cute sterling silver raincloud earrings I am wearing I have had for many years, and were bought in Portobello Lane, an old jewellery boutique that is sadly closed down now.
Bought years ago in a designer pop-up store, the short-sleeved knit by label AM. St is probably on its last legs though, unless I can rescue it with some gentle fabric whitener suitable for wool fibre. Because winter whites must really be snow white.
A Mille-Feuille of Crin
When I was a kid I just loved the Mickey Mouse Show – I wanted so much to be a Mouseketeer, but I lived in Australia. When I saw this vintage hat on Etsy my first thought was that it looked like a pair of Mickey Mouse ears – albeit a more sophisticated version, made from layer upon layer of black crin.
Crin, or horsehair, is a type of nylon or polyester millinery material that has a similar appearance to tulle. Crin (the French word for horsehair) is actually short for crinoline, the undergarment worn by women to create the appearance of full skirts. The stiff fabric used in its construction was woven from a weft of natural horsehair and a warp of cotton or linen thread.
This pretty little cocktail hat – a mille-feuille of crin, if you will – is meant to be fixed to the head with a hatpin. Cindy, the seller at The Vintage Hat Shop, provided two pearl-topped pins (at over 10cm in length, they are almost daggers), but my hairstyle precludes my employing them for this purpose. I will either attach a hat elastic, or tack on a comb. Now all I need to do is organise the printing of my name on a polonecked top …
Plush Piles
Celebrating the Roaring Twenties in a Special Series
Since time immemorial human beings have coveted beautiful things, and drawn to adorn themselves in them – for warmth, modesty, status and simple pleasure.
Regardless of one’s stance on the use of genuine fur in clothing, one cannot deny the beauty and opulence of animal fur: gorgeously patterned and gloriously coloured, glossy, reflective, soft and silky, comforting and cosy. In the bitter cold, nothing keeps one as warm as luxurious, natural fur – except perhaps a heated luxury car.
As a matter of survival, sealskin pelts were first used for clothing by Inuits who hunted the animal for food. Archaeological evidence suggests Native Americans and First Nations People of Canada have been hunting seals for 4000 years. The pelt is waterproof – not surprisingly – and was used to make jackets, gloves and boots. The seafaring Vikings were known to have worn them also.
The Little Ice Age of 14th century Europe created a great demand for fur – most luxury fur came from Russia. In 1515, the first commercial cargo of fur seal skins were sent from Uruguay to Spain for sale in the markets of Seville. Used for sporting apparel in the early twentieth century, sealskin was beginning to become passé by the 1920s. But it is still used today by a few fashion houses, including Prada, Gucci and Louis Vuitton.
Genuine sealskin does have a beautiful sheen, but for those who would prefer to leave the fur on the seals and don’t need the boots for that trek across the icy tundra on their way to work in the morning, vintage faux fur is the way to wear. Even panné velvet mimics the look amazingly well, as can be seen in these vintage and modern examples below. So recycle, buy vintage and be nice to the seals and the planet.
Drumroll Please …
Ta-daaaa! Here they are, pom-poms upon pom-poms upon yet more pom-poms. Round, fluffy, tactile – they are so adorable. Why on earth stop at one? I certainly haven’t here.
I am wearing a vintage 1950s bandeau made with a black satin ribbon and mink pom-poms (vintage is the only way I buy fur) that I purchased on Etsy. My wool felt earrings are a souvenir from Barcelona, and the knit top is by Sonia Rykiel. Pom-tiddly-pom!