Head in the Clouds

Quite a few years ago I bought this little 1950s bandeau made from cello, an artificial straw material. I was attracted to it because I thought its puffy shape resembled a naïve drawing of a fluffy cloud. Aptly, it is an icy blue and as light as air to wear.

I like the bandeau as an alternative to either hats, or headbands, for the latter put me too much in mind of schoolgirls wearing Alice bands. However, I have never worked out how to wear my hair with 1950s hats without looking too vintagey.

To set them off properly, they should really be worn with the hair up in a French roll or the like (as it would have been worn back in the day), but this combination that feels far too prim and ageing for me. I had in fact taken a series of photos nine months earlier, when I had long hair. I styled it in a low bun, and added 50s clip-on earrings, but the look displeased me so much I never used the pictures, and consequently reshot them.

Yet I’m not sure the bob is right either? (Irrelevant to me now as I no longer have a bob of course.) I am not sure I like the look of some of the hats of the era worn with long hair either – the proportions can often look all wrong to me.

Oh dear, a millinery dilemma! This jury’s head is still in the clouds. Perhaps I should take this up as a sartorial challenge?

Photos: February 2013, May 2012

Holy Hatbox!

In January, my friend Sapphire and I went vintage shopping. I was looking mainly for various household items – mainly storage boxes or drawers, preferably wooden. Of course, when one goes vintage shopping, one keeps an eye out for anything; you never know when you will stumble upon some treasure.

Hatboxes are the Holy Grail of vintage shopping for me. I’ve owned some in the past, ‘cheap’ vintage boxes made of cardboard, although they were lined in beautiful stylised floral Forties fabric, and still bore the original travel stickers on the outside. I actually found these on someone’s rubbish heap in the street where I lived as a teenager! I couldn’t wait to get them home fast enough. They were in very good condition, and I actually used them as travel luggage when I went on camps and the like. Unfortunately, a few years later when I lived in my first apartment after leaving my parents’ home, they were stored in the garage and very badly damaged by damp and mould after it was flooded. Sadly, I had to throw them out.

Hatboxes are the Holy Grail of vintage shopping for me …

I have kept my eye out for hatboxes ever since. The only ones I ever saw were also cardboard, some in the most disgraceful rotted condition with criminal (and laughable) asking prices of $80 or more! This time, while doing a second circuit of a vintage bazaar looking for something to store my vintage gloves in (yes, I own that many), I almost literally stumbled over this hatbox that I had missed the first time round. It is in very good condition for its age, and incredibly cost only $45. It is also lockable, and I am considering having some keys made for it.

Made of yellow leather, the hatbox is lined in pale peach moiré rayon. There are two pockets, one large one in the lid, and a smaller one in the base. The interior is in perfect condition; while the exterior has an expected amount of wear, with only one area along one edge that is badly cracked (you can see that in the photo). The original label inside reads ‘Garstin, Made in England’. It is a pity, but I can’t find any information on this luggage brand. It does smell a bit musty inside, but I have been airing it out and storing a large bag of dried lavender in it, and it is slowly improving.

I can’t wait to use it next time I go travelling!

(For the record, I am wearing a new vintage 70s shirtwaister by Australian label Sportscraft, 70s eelskin bag and a 90s straw boater; the shoes are by Nine West.)

PS. Happy International Women’s Day!

Photos: February, March 2016

Red Rogue

The 1940s calot is a small, brimless cap that perches on the back of the head. It was designed specifically to show off freshly styled hair, and was held on the head with combs or bobby pins. To make up for the lack of brim, the calot was decorated instead with large flowers, big bows or ornate appliqué.

I stumbled across a 1940s white and navy hat on a random Google search that I instantly fell in love with and purchased. On the same site I spotted this ‘1940s vintage red novelty hat beanie style with tassels and blue flowers collegiate style New York Creations’, as the seller comprehensively described it.

I am invariably drawn to red, and this wool hat looked just so darned cute I had to have it too.

I am invariably drawn to red, and this wool hat looked just so darned cute I had to have it too. There’s something about the style of it that makes me feel roguish wearing it – it must be because the tassels are just so jaunty! (Tassels and pompoms are two of my favourite things.) It is a pity one of the tassels is missing its blue flower, but one must expect a certain amount of wear and tear on well-loved vintage items.

I must say I’m really looking forward to autumn this year so I can start wearing some of my winter hats again. 

Photo: June 2013

Grab Your Pearls, Girls

I have long had a passionate love for pearls of all kinds. There is something so beautiful about the sheen and lustre; they feel silky to the touch. There is also the romance of how they are created (so lovely that a clever little oyster makes something so beautiful from an irritant!), and the history of pearl fishing is fascinating.

I love all kinds of pearls: from the beautiful South Sea pearl that made up my former engagement ring, to multicoloured freshwater pearls, and even the fake pearls used in some of my vintage costume jewellery.

A pearl collar was a classic accessory to ladies of the 1950s, worn with woollen twinsets, or in the evening with a cocktail dress. I had a hankering to own one because they are just so pretty, even though I generally don’t like garments with little collars (I hate shirts and absolutely loathe the Peter Pan style collars popular in the 1960s).

I searched Etsy off and on for a long time (seeing many in my wish list get snapped up while I dithered) before I finally bit the bullet and made a purchase. It was difficult to choose because really it is the type of accessory that ideally one wants to try on. This one I bought is in excellent condition however, and features gunmetal bugle beads amongst the deep clotted-cream pearls.

It feels too prissy and dated for me to wear it as it originally would have been, and I thought I could wear it as a neckpiece, and the effect here appears amusingly like a bowtie – I look like a cigarette girl of the Art Deco period! (Which is a totally awesome idea for a costume party, I must say.) I just need a tuxedo jacket to complete the picture.

Photos: February 2014

Fancy Hat!

Since I have been in a more minimalist phase in the last year or so, I have not been wearing my more fancy vintage hats – I’ve donned the ones with simpler shapes and minimal trimming. However, last week I suddenly declared to the marketing department at large that I was going to wear a crazy vintage hat the next day.

The next morning, in my hurry dressing for work, I almost forgot, but at the very last minute I remembered the previous day’s avowal. Fortunately I have an app cataloguing my many hats (a bit like Cher Horowitz’s computerised closet in the film Clueless), which I can search by style, colour or trim; the app also records in which hatbox I have stored each hat so that I can find them quickly.

I have always thought [this hat] resembled Mickey Mouse ears …

As I was wearing black, I used the colour search filter, scrolled through the selection and voila! This 50s nylon crin hat was perfect. I have always thought it resembled Mickey Mouse ears, and in fact someone said as much that day. I suspect it ought to have three giant pearls, but my 60s pearl bauble earrings are a fabulous substitute.

It always amuses me how much I get stared at on my morning commute whenever I wear an unusual hat – I always want to demand have they never seen a hat before? The girls I work with, however, were delighted.

Photo: May 2013