Out of Africa

It must be no secret that I love jewellery, and out of all the ways women have found to adorn themselves, I love necklaces and earrings the most. I have both minimalist and maximalist tendencies – sometimes a featherweight of jewellery is quite enough, and on another day more is more is more – so long as my shoulders can stand it.

I have long been attracted to tribal jewellery, particularly to that of Africa and Afghanistan, and prefer opaque stones to sparkly gems (unless it is ridiculously OTT in true Bollywood style). Anything that jingles will surely attract my notice (as my bemused work colleagues will attest!).

sometimes a featherweight of jewellery is quite enough, and on another day more is more is more …

I sport a small collection around my neck, two of which I made myself, and one that is vintage. The biggest is made from shells alternated with silver baroque freshwater pearls. The shells originally formed a belt, which I found in a charity store for a few dollars. It is quite heavy to wear, but I like that it is almost a piece of sculpture. I call it my dinosaur spine necklace. The other handmade necklace is made up of small and larger wooden beads and white pearls. And the third necklace is vintage Eighties, consisting of freshwater and glass pearl beads, that I bought on Etsy.

Although wearing piles of beads is fun for a photoshoot, I am far more likely to wear the dinosaur spine on its own, and let it shine in solitary splendour – I have a way to go before I can match these African ladies (photographed by Mario Gerth in Namibia, Niger, Kenya, Mali and Ethiopia).

Click the images and jump through for more.

Tie the Knot

I have heard it said that if a woman, when she is applying for a job at Vogue, does not know how to tie a scarf she stands no chance. It’s an amusing little quip, but what I want to know is this: how does Vogue know? Unless the applicant is actually wearing a scarf, do they ask her to perform a small number of manual tasks as part of the interview process?

‘Right, now, you’ve proven you know the maximum quantity of rings per finger, and how to seat two ex-wives at their ex-husband’s third wedding, but do you know how to tie a scarf stylishly? Please choose a scarf from this selection and tie the knot of your choice. Points will be allocated for ratio of correct scarf weight to knot style, speed, and dexterity. You have 90 seconds, and you may begin now.’

I’m sure that I would fail such a test under these harsh and repressive conditions. In fact, while I have a simply enormous scarf collection, I am always in far too much of a hurry in the mornings to choose one, let alone wrap it stylishly around my neck. I am more likely to choose a necklace, and adding a scarf on top of that would (usually) be superfluous and inelegant.

a beautifully knotted scarf is an elegant accessory, and does indeed separate the Voguettes from the rest of us hoi polloi

However, a beautifully knotted scarf is an elegant accessory, and does indeed separate the Voguettes from the rest of us hoi polloi. Unfortunately, more often than not I merely fling a scarf around my neck as I run out of the door, either wound around or casually knotted, or if it’s a windy day, in an easy European Loop. But when I take the time to tie a scarf properly, it truly does add that extra touch of polish.

But if, like me, you need a little help, you can do no better than consult the Scarf app from Japanese developers CenterWave (available for iPhone and Android) – it’s 99c I’ve not regretted spending. The app has a colourful step-by-step guide to tying 25 different knots – here are some of my favourites. (I do apologise for the inappropriate blouse – I wanted something plain to showcase each scarf, but I can’t claim to own a single white shirt!)

Half Butterfly

This casual style of wrapping a knot looks stylish, and shows off a scarf to great effect.

This is such a pretty, loose knot that really will show off a fluttery silk scarf.

Double Ascot

A somewhat formal knot that makes a stylish impression. If you tuck the scarf into a shirt, the mood changes to something extra special.

This is the classic scarf knot you see glamorous fashion editors wear in films. I love this one for its formal but stylish look.

European Loop

The impression changes with the position of the loop. It’s suitable for high-necked clothing or with a Nehru collar.

I often wear my winter scarves in this loop – it’s quite cosy and sturdy when there’s a gale blowing.

Bow Tie

Adjusting the size of the scarf controls the nuances of impression you can make. A larger ribbon produces a showy effect, while a smaller ribbon suggests intelligence.

The preceding paragraph (quoted from the app) sounds like a dubious translation from the Japanese, but I imagine that the suggestion of ‘intelligence’ may come from the suffragettes, who wore little bow ties at the turn of last century with their shirtwaisters. (I may be overreaching slightly though.) A larger scarf as mine certainly does produce a flamboyant showy effect, but it is certainly delightfully fun.

Men’s Tie

This is known as a men’s tie knot, and it imparts a boyish impression. Because it doesn’t come undone easily, it is a practical way of tying a knot.

The classic men’s tie – also popular with the suffragettes and the women who went to work during WWI – is very sturdy. It would look great on a slightly fatter scarf than the one I used (Vogue fail!).

A Note on the Scarves

There is nothing like silk fabric for scarves (except other natural fibres for more casual scarves). Silk is lightweight and delicate, caresses the skin, and floats so beautifully. Artificial fibres more often than not just don’t sit nicely, especially vintage scarves made from acetate – those will tend only to work as headscarves. The five scarves I am wearing here are all vintage, except the cream and pink polka-dotted half butterfly scarf, and the grey leaf patterned men’s tie scarf.

Now Snapettes: go forth and experiment – just don’t tie yourself in knots over it! 

NB. Italicised text quoted from the Scarf app.

Which Came First?

The Vintage Hat Series: 1950s ruched velvet saucer hat

In the last story I talked about the importance of proportion and hairstyle when considering which hat to wear. When I cut my hair into a bob, suddenly quite a number of my hats did not look quite right. But which came first, historically speaking: hat or hairstyle?

When the Roaring Twenties rolled through fashionable society and brought with it the bob, women cut their hair short for the first time since the Regency period – approximately a century earlier. The new shorn hairstyles meant a woman could wear one of the close-fitting cloches, a signifier that she was highly fashionable: a fast, bright young thing who wore makeup, drank, and smoked in public.

Fashion cycles began to move faster and faster since then, and before long (after two world wars) women were once more wearing their hair long. But with one difference: there was more choice, and both long hair (often worn up in a chignon or French roll) and short was worn in the 1950s.

This ruched velvet mini saucer hat I am wearing is vintage 50s. I loved the silvery grey colour when I purchased it on Etsy, but when it arrived and I tried it on it just didn’t look quite right with a bob (below). I wonder if it is just the unaccustomed combination, or are the proportions simply odd? Tucking my hair behind my ears (above) offers some sort of solution (apart from the accidental sideburns effect!) – I look as though I might have my hair pinned up, or a close-cropped 50s do.

The jury’s still out as far as I’m concerned, but it’s a moot point anyway until next winter, when I might consider wearing the hat again … but only if it suits my hairstyle in the future.

Please to Meecha, Bombacha!

A new kind of trouser has travelled upriver to the West in the last few years, and entered the mainstream. The first ripples came in the guise of the harem pant, ballooning from the waist; yards of fabric gathered at the ankle. Gradually the form took on a different silhouette, less billowy in the leg, and the new trouser shape became inelegantly known as the ‘drop crotch’. As I own a few pairs, curiosity lead me on a journey to discover the origins of these comfortable trousers. 

In South America it is more traditionally known as the bombacha, or the gaucho, and the trouser takes its name from the South American equivalent of the cowboy. Today they are worn for riding or for outdoor work that requires sturdy garb. The trousers are long, loose and baggy, and are usually tucked into boots to create the look more familiar to us on the runway. Some modern versions of the bombacha are cropped just past the knee for practicality. 

Traditional guachos

Loose, comfortable trousers have been worn throughout history by both men and women around the world.

Loose, comfortable trousers have been worn throughout history by both men and women around the world. A similar style of trouser has long been worn in South and Central Asia, where they are known as shalwar kameez. They are also part of Turkish folk costume, and are called şalvar in Turkish, while historically Persian horsemen wore a version of the pants called sharovary. In the mid nineteenth century French Zouave soldiers wore trousers very similar to the drop crotch – these men were recruited from a tribe of Berbers in Algeria. I in fact bought a pair of heavily embroidered traditional blue trousers still worn today by the Tuareg, a Berber people, when I was in Morocco a couple of years ago. (You can see these here.)

Besides my souvenir Tuareg trousers, I own several pairs of loose, baggy pants in the bombacha style. These are what I wear when I am working or mooching about at home – I find them both comfortable and a little more elegant than tracksuit pants. (Tracksuit pants belong on the track – I’m sure I’ve declared that more than once before!) Mine are all made of softer fabrics however – silk blends and cottons – I’m certain they wouldn’t last the distance if I really was a cowgirl. 

Picture Credits

The background images were taken in the Rif Mountains of northern Morocco when I was holidaying there a couple of years ago. Guacho trousers (left) and (right). Fashion image here. 

Bombachas by Zandia, Spring/Summer 2010

Instructions on the Proper Usage of Hosiery with Peeptoes

Fun texture of winter cable knit contrasts with suede heels. Verdict: cute! This past autumn, my friend Audrey and I held an important summit on a controversial topic: Is it sartorially forgivable to wear hosiery with peeptoe shoes?

It was Audrey who brought up the subject, for she had observed my breaking of this hitherto unpardonable sin. After a serious and in-depth discussion we brokered three rules:

1. under no circumstances are beige pantyhose to be worn with open-toed footwear
2. seams along the toes must be invisible to the naked eye
3. toeless stockings are an abomination and not to be considered for a moment

Beige pantyhose. Visible seams. Verdict: vile! Within this framework, we decided, it ought to be possible to don fun and attractive legwear with peeptoes and thus expand one’s footwear wardrobe over the cooler months. This includes lace socks, over-the-knee socks and tights of all persuasions. The jury is still out on fishnets, although the larger the net, the less likely they will work with open-toed shoes – how silly would toes look poking out of the holes?

I have since discovered, in the 1970s, the incumbent fashion editor of Australian Vogue was apparently a proponent of beige pantyhose worn with open-toed sandals. This is an atrocity. (It also probably means it will soon be back in favour, probably beginning with hipsters.)

A NOTE ON BEIGE HOSIERY

Does anyone in fact still wear beige pantyhose in this day and age? In my view, the only acceptable beige hosiery is between 10–15 denier, so sheer as to be almost invisible, or the tattoo stockings that are currently in vogue.

Scroll down for additional pictorial examples of shocking no-nos and stocking yes-yeses. 

Right sock, wrong place. Visible seams make this verdict: vile. Cream lace socks with scalloped tops look pretty with T-bar peeptoes. Verdict: cute! Go all the way with bright colour contrast: sky blue with raspberry red. Verdict: cute!