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
A Scottish Tilt
Hat styles of the 1940s almost defy description, there was such a myriad of unusual and daring shapes, unlike the 1920s for example, when the cloche reigned supreme. The milliners of this later era were extraordinarily inventive, for of all women’s clothing, hats were not rationed during the war. In all that variety, one of the most common characteristics was the tilt: hats sat at a rakish, almost impossible angle on the head. They were supported by a band or strap that went around the head.
This lilac wool felt hat, trimmed on the sides with two bows, resembles a tam o’shanter, the traditional Scotsman’s bonnet; women’s versions are known as a tammy, or tam. The name comes from Robert Burn’s poem Tam o’ Shanter, after the eponymous hero.
… hats sat at a rakish, almost impossible angle on the head.
Doing away with the traditional pompom, the milliner cleverly conceptualises one with a circular woven section in the centre. The strap at the back forms a hole, through which I was able to pull my ponytail, although it was unlikely to be worn like that in the 1940s. It’s interesting that they didn’t try to hide the strap as milliners do nowadays, but rather made it a striking and integral feature of the design. It’s certainly not a hat for a wallflower!
Here is another, more traditional tam that I own.
New Look, Old Rules
Oh how times have changed, and thank goodness for that! Though there is much to love about vintage fashion and style, I am so happy that the all-pervading enslavement to fashion rules and regulations that once held sway over women has been laid to rest.
Once, an elegant woman could not venture upon the street without her matching hat, gloves, shoes and bag. Moreover, there were separate sets for town and country, for sporting kit and dressy ensembles. These sets were comprised of all black items, (in addition, if possible, a set all in brown) and beige shoes with a straw handbag for summer.
In A Guide to Elegance (Harper Collins, 2003 ed.), Genevieve Antoine Dariaux opens the section on accessories with: ‘The accessories worn with an outfit – gloves, hat, shoes, and handbag – are among the most important elements of an elegant appearance. A modest dress or suit can triple its face value when it is worn with an elegant hat, bag, gloves and shoes, while a designer’s original can lose much of its prestige if its accessories have been carelessly selected.’
This sounds fine … at first glance. But read on and learn, for instance, that alligator was only worn with casual outfits (it would be vulgar and nouveau riche to carry an expensive alligator bag with dressy clothes); trousers should never be worn with a heel, rather ballerinas or moccasins; and coloured shoes were suitable with evening dresses and nothing else, while white were worn only in summer with a white dress (and never in the city, except in the tropics). Preferably, gloves should be glacé kidskin, followed by suede and antelope (which need to be replaced often to remain fresh), and good quality nylon. Crocheted lace or transparent nylon gloves were an abomination. As for novelty handbags: Out.
These are the shoes Dariaux lists as having no place in the elegant woman’s wardrobe:
- too high heels (vulgar – 2.5 inches max);
- open-toed shoes (toes might get stepped on, or wet in the rain);
- wedge heels (awkward, with transparent heels being in particularly bad taste);
- ankle straps (unflattering and cheap-looking);
- extra pointy-toed shoes (the empty toes curl skywards with wear);
- and all other kinds of shoes that attract too much attention (they attract too much attention).
She decrees: ‘Shoes should be the complement of an ensemble, never an end to themselves.’
How thankful I am we are freed from this kind of sartorial tyranny today …
Oh dear. While I don’t know her view on millinery (the chapter is mysteriously omitted from the re-edition of her book), I fail on every other count. A Guide to Elegance was first published in 1964, the era of the Youthquake and the mini, which I find surprising – perhaps it was Dariaux’s response to all the shocking sartorial vulgarities and blunders she saw around her. Though her book does contain many gems still applicable today, and it is an entertaining read, she must have seemed fossilised even then.
How thankful I am we are freed from this kind of sartorial tyranny today – we are able to express our personality and choose our accessories a little more lightheartedly. Life’s too short to take fashion so seriously. Vive la liberté!
What Would Coco Do?
Celebrating the Roaring Twenties in a Special Series
Coco Chanel is considered a fashion icon by some, and in some ways I agree. She must be greatly admired for her contribution to emancipating women from the corset and the hobble skirt. She invented sportswear chic and created comfortable and functional garments for the woman of the new century. She made it fashionable for women to wear costume jewellery and a tan. (Ok, that last one proved to be a mistake in the long-term.)
What I don’t like? The classic Chanel tweed suit and quilted bags. Vile. They are synonymous with bourgeois chic, safe and conservative and make me want to run screaming for the nearest Vivienne Westwood shop for an antidote. (Not that I can afford to shop at either of these labels mind you.) Little black dresses are ok, but a bit dull if you ask me.
One of her most famous decrees goes something along the lines of, ‘before you leave the house, take a look in the mirror and take one thing off’. Good advice, you say. (I say it too.) But did Coco herself follow this admirable principle? May I present two famous photographs of the lady herself as examples:
No. She did not. Just take a look at the sheer quantity of jangly bits she’s wearing: row upon row of pearls, earrings, beaded trim on the hat, rings, bows and bangles upon bangles. She’s practically up to her armpits in bangles! (And just look at that cigarette dangling louchely from her lips – that’s another thing that’s not quite good for you Coco.) Non, non, non!
Just take a look at the sheer quantity of jangly bits she’s wearing!
I took a couple of photographs of myself in homage and found myself thinking, I would never leave the house like this. A rope of pearls I might wear, perhaps with a party dress, but not like this. And I couldn’t bring myself to add all those bangles – it is just too much. Admittedly my outfit is more casual than what she is wearing, but this look seems too common, too predictable. Perhaps it is precisely because these images of Chanel are so well-known, so iconic in themselves?
‘If you doubt, choose monochromatic colors – black and white together form a perfect harmony …’
So what would I do? Whip off those pearls and toss off that black felt hat. Instead, I’d wear my white wool beret and maybe sling on my white leather trench. Because another thing Coco said, ‘If you doubt, choose monochromatic colors – women think of color, and forget about the black and white which are beautiful, and together form a perfect harmony.’ This I thoroughly approve.
Gold Rush
Oooooo! I was very excited to find a vintage Oroton gold mesh purse in the charity store a couple weekends ago. Although I love my current almost-Tiffany-blue leather wallet, it is starting to show wear. This mesh purse will be a good replacement when the former becomes too scruffy.
The Oroton purse is in mint condition, apart from a little tarnishing on the press-studs inside. It has two buttoned compartments inside, one for change, and another for keys or keepsakes perhaps.
There are no pockets for cards however, which, I am guessing, indicates it is from the early 70s, when plastic cards must have been extremely uncommon. I will have to use one of the two sections for bills for cards instead. Fortunately my current wallet is so tiny I downsized long ago, and am quite used to carrying only the essential few. (My loyalty cards live in a separate card wallet I keep in my tote bag.)
A Little History
Metal mesh purses and bags have been around for a long time, and I own a few bags already: a gold 70s clutch, and two classic 60s pouch style bags with kiss closures, plus a couple of belts in gold and silver. The bags are all by Glomesh, an Australian company founded in the 60s by a Hungarian immigrant couple, Louis and Alice Kennedy. Although the company has been closed for decades, it is being relaunched this year, which will be an exciting event on the fashion calendar. Oroton, another old Australian brand founded in 1938, has also manufactured metal mesh and other luxury accessories and still does to this day.
Another American label I have discovered online, Whiting & Davis, has been making amazing metal mesh bags since 1892 (the company was founded in 1876). The first mesh bags were handmade from different coloured metals, but by the 1920s many of them were emblazoned with Art Deco style, intricately painted and silkscreened with patterns, featuring geometric edges or decadent fringing. Browse the shop and drool.
It’s a fun way to add a little 1970s glam into one’s life* – or if you’re lucky enough to own a Whiting & Davis collector bag, some Fin de Siècle or Roaring Twenties style.
* Ed’s Note: I do in fact also own a metal mesh backless top and wonder why on earth I haven’t long-since photographed it and featured it on these pages. How remiss of me.
Sweetheart
The classic pinups of the 1940s will forever hold a special place in the popular imagination. Some are simply sweet, and some are very definitely saucy, but they will never fail to raise a laugh (and maybe a pulse). Those paintings of audacious girls manage to say sexy without being trashy because of the inherent humour – a cheeky wink is endearing.
I’m keeping this little 40s pinup look sweet with stripes and denim shorts (much more modest than a little skirt that can flip all too easily in an errant breeze) and classic rope espadrilles. This style of shoe became very fashionable in the 1940s due to rationing – shoe designers had to get creative – and were made famous by Lauren Bacall when she wore an ankle-laced pair in the 1948 film Key Largo.
I adore stripes in almost any colour combination, but my favourites are bright colours, or black with white. Stripes, with their nautical lineage, also shout summer. The espadrilles are striped and polka-dotted – how sweet can you get? – and aptly, are by Candy. I found them in the Sacred Heart charity store last weekend, and, never worn, they were a bargain for $15. The cute little pink and white cotton knit by designer label Gorman also came from the same store – $6, thanks. The little denim 40s style shorts are new, by Seduce.
(The raspberry candy heart came from a sweet shop at the Queen Victoria Market.)