One Blanket Skirt: Check!

At the end of last summer, when I started thinking about my new season wardrobe, I was also starting to lean back towards a more minimalistic approach to fashion. I have gone through these phases before, when deep in the throes of eccentric bohemia, I suddenly start dreaming of its antithesis: minimalism and paring back. It is certainly a startling contrast, and I am not sure why I suddenly change tack, except that it seems to be a natural wave, an ebb and flow in my sense of personal style. It’s as if, after years of minimalism, I find myself longing for simplicity. I make the switch, and years will pass before the pendulum swings again.

Last time I made an abrupt turnaround to minimalism (when I was about 28) I was quite strict – I culled virtually everything vintage from my closet that I had collected during and shortly after my years at art school, and I started from scratch, with a very small colour palette too. This time around (more than ten years later) I have been less rigorous. I have for some time been rather enamoured of the 1970s, as well as the 30s and 40s (my other favourite vintage styles), so I have kept a few vintage pieces in circulation – so long as they fit into a more minimalist aesthetic.

I wanted … a plaid wool skirt that was reminiscent of a blanket – those cosy checked blankets I remembered from my 70s childhood.

Autumn fashion in the USA: a block plaid coat nipped in at the waist, worn with a jaunty hat, 1938. (From Style Book, by Elizabeth Walker, published by Flammarion 2011.)For winter I had decided on what kind of pieces I wanted to keep an eye out for in my various secondhand haunts, both online and in the real world. One of the items I wanted was a plaid wool skirt that was reminiscent of a blanket – those cosy checked blankets I remembered from my 70s childhood. I was very particular on what kind of plaid I wanted: it could be nothing fussy with numerous stripes such as a traditional Scottish tartan.

Jean Shrimpton wears a classic, checked collarless jacket, 1960. (From Style Book, by Elizabeth Walker, published by Flammarion 2011.)I didn’t hold out much hope of finding exactly what I wanted, but browsing one Saturday morning in a Salvos op shop (thrift store), I actually stumbled upon it. Instead of the soft reds and white I wanted, the skirt was woven in quiet tones of smoke blue, soft grey and off-white – basically a blue version of what I had dreamed up in my head. I couldn’t believe my luck: made of 100% wool, the midi skirt fit, and only cost around $8–12.

I wear it usually with a grey jumper, like this short-sleeved sweater, or sometimes with a matt sequin grey tee (another thrifted bargain). In perfect condition, the skirt is so warm too. It’s just like walking about wrapped in a cosy blanket, perfect for some of the very cold days Melbourne has given us this winter.

Going to Every Length

I must admit, when I choose a necklace to wear I first consider what will complement my outfit and the occasion, and second, what I am in the mood for wearing. Except for how a particular item suits the neckline of the garment, I rarely take the length of a necklace into account.

Yet you may have heard various terms bandied about in fashion circles that describe the lengths of necklaces and seem to indicate something more than mere length. ‘Collar’ and ‘choker’ seem self-explanatory. But was a ‘princess’ necklace something royal princesses traditionally wore?

… was a ‘princess’ necklace something royal princesses traditionally wore?

More likely, it was the length considered appropriate for a dress featuring a princess neckline. (I like this description of a princess neckline found on WikiAnswers: ‘… a style characterised by a cut that comes more or less straight down just inside the shoulders for a short run, then continues in a V cut, often bowing slightly inward. It can be very flattering with a push up bra. Of course, this is a guy's point of view.’) And was a matinee necklace worn only to matinee theatre, while an opera length necklace was strictly worn to the opera, and nowhere else? So many questions!

Some Tips

Long necklaces will be flattering to shorter women as they create long vertical lines, creating the illusion of height. Extra long necklaces are really designed to be looped back twice or more to create a layered look. My ‘ridiculous’ length necklace is of course meant to be worn this way.

Before donning a collar or choker necklace consider whether it frames your face and neckline in a flattering manner. Do not purchase one that is too tight lest you look like you really are being choked!

A feature collar or choker necklace should not be worn with too-high necklines, especially if they are touching – not only does this create an untidy neckline, but the necklace will constantly disappear from view (and possibly even cause uncomfortable chafing).

Anne Hathaway in Prada pale pink silk gown and Tiffany & Co flower necklace (worn backwards), Oscars 2013Who remembers Anne Hathaway’s Oscars 2013 outfit? She ‘daringly’ wore the necklace backward with her high-necked apron-style Prada gown, but this does no justice to the cut of the gown at all – both garment and jewellery interfere with one another. The interesting back of the gown in particular would have looked so much more elegant on its own, and the front view just looks too crowded. Adventurous styling gone wrong, SNAP says.

Finally, a plunging neckline on its own will inevitably draw the eye. But if you are going to wear a necklace with a deep vee, consider where it finishes: up higher just below your collarbone to distract a little from the plunge, or some twinkling pendant nestling between your breasts just to make sure the gaze lingers!

An Autumn Love Story

A few weeks ago an anonymous reader wrote to me and asked me for some tips on what to wear to an autumn wedding that has a dress code of cocktail wear. She has looked online but only been offered ‘boring frocks of a single colour’, and since she has only been to spring and summer weddings, she felt a bit stuck for ideas. And, she also wondered, were clogs an appropriate choice of footwear?

I thought this was a great concept for a story, and I am actually going to an autumn wedding this weekend myself, although only to the ceremony. (Apologies this story has taken a while to put together and publish, I’d love to have been able to respond personally. If you do write in – and I would love to hear from you – please do include your email address so I can reply quickly!)

Firstly, the clogs. This may be a matter of personal choice. A higher-end fancier pair might be fine, but I tend to think clogs are fairly casual shoes. I love them myself, but I would probably prefer to wear something a little more glamorous. Something with a heel, maybe a shiny finish (patent leather, metallic details), or a bow perhaps, and a splash of colour (depending on the frock). Something festive. The shoe should also be appropriate to the venue – you might be uncomfortable in stilettos at a garden party or on a beach, for example.

If you want to get away from a plain-coloured frock, your best bet would be to go for a print, or colourful separates. If you a really keen on a colour that evokes the season, go for warmer tones, but do make sure whatever is closest to your face suits your complexion. Don’t be afraid to mix up the colours and go for an unexpected combination either, such as plum with turquoise, olive and violet as I’ve done here. (Although I might have gone a little overboard with the number of accessories.)

The clothes I am wearing in these pictures all came out of my existing closet (I might even wear one of these outfits on Saturday!), and are all in warm shades of pink, burnt orange, plum and olive.

Of the separates, the burnt orange skirt by Hannii (a now-defunct Melbourne label) tones in with a silk floral blouse by David Lawrence. There is actually no orange in the wrap blouse, but rather warm shades of pink and olive. The olive green hat is actually a bandeau with a silk organza bow and veil, and the beaded bag adds a little lightness to the outfit. I’m also wearing pink pearl bead earrings and a pearl ring by Autore. The pink shoes are by Nude.

The mauve velvet skirt by Warehouse is closer to pink than is apparent, and is teamed with a warm pink silk blouse by Forever New, another charity store purchase. I actually hunted down the skirt on eBay a few years ago because I was looking for a dressy skirt to wear to evening parties in autumn and winter – there seemed to be a real dearth of colourful party clothes for the cooler seasons in Melbourne at the time. The russet and plum hat is vintage 50s, and the bag is by Glomesh. The pearl chandelier earrings came from jewellery boutique Portobello Lane (also now sadly defunct), and the ring as before; the red shoes with their laser cut details are by Marchez Vous.

Ruffles seem like the perfect decorative touch for a wedding! The purple ruffled silk dress is by Rebecca Taylor (almost the same colour as the skirt), and I recently bought it in a charity store for $12. It is missing a belt however, and is a little big for me, so I’ve cinched at the waist with a scarf that has been in my collection for a very long time. It’s appliquéd with little circles all over, some of which pick up the violet tone of the taffeta bag by No. 7 (also a charity store find). My turquoise accessories include a vintage feathered bandeau, a chalcedony pendant on a silver chain, a turquoise ring (souvenir from Barcelona) and patent Tiffany blue heels by Nude (I just can’t resist that colour, aka robin’s egg blue).

The printed dress is by Cue, and I actually wore to an autumn wedding a couple of years ago. The day was quite warm and I didn’t even need my white faux fur shawl that I had brought with me. I’ve teamed it here with the same pair of warm pink heels seen above, although I originally wore it with black patent slingbacks.

All of these outfits may seem a little skimpy at first glance, but it’s easy to add some warmth with a pair of tights and a decorative jacket. If your clothes are on simpler lines, you can wear patterned or lacy stockings, but don’t overwhelm your look with too much detail. Don’t spoil a pretty outfit with a worn out workaday coat. A wedding is the time to break out a fancy jacket or coat – velvet is perfect for autumn. I adore jackets and coats and have a ridiculously vast collection, many of them vintage. Lucky I live in capricious Melbourne – there are plenty of opportunities to wear them!

Don’t forget your accessories can add interest and vibrancy to your outfit too. A wedding is the perfect time to have fun with a hat of some sort, especially if you are not accustomed to wearing them, or feel conspicuous or shy. No one will ever question a hat at a wedding! I am wearing a selection of three in these pictures. All of them are vintage 1950s, and two are made from feathers. (Feathers always seem so well-suited to autumn to me for some reason – perhaps because their fluffiness evokes cosy warmth.)

Your accessories don’t need to all match one another, or even exactly match your frock – why not try a contrasting colour or texture?

Most importantly: make sure your dress (and your heel height) will be comfortable for dancing in! I just loved swishing around in that 50s inspired Cue dress, with the big bow at the back of the neck – I think I was one of the last to leave the dancefloor at that family wedding of mine.

Enjoy the big day!

The Importance of Being Ironed

I have heard people boast quite proudly that they never iron anything. (Women, that is to say – men I never hear mention ironing.)

For some reason, these women see this laziness as a badge of honour. They have conquered their mother’s slavishness to the tyranny of the iron, and surpassed their sisters who are still foolishly clinging to the old ways.

This is wrong. (See picture above for abject example of said wrongness.)

There is also an urban myth that fashion magazines just love to bandy about. To placate those women liberated from the ironing board, fashion editors suggest you hang your wrinkled garments in the bathroom while you are having a shower. The steam, they say, will magically smooth out those wrinkles. You won’t have to lift a finger!

Wrong again.

Maybe this would work in a Swedish sauna after an hour or two, but in a domestic bathroom? No. It doesn’t. Take it from me: I have tried it.

Why iron? … Why bother trying to look chic, and stylish. Give up. Go polyester.

Why iron? I may as well ask why bother wearing nice clothes made from pretty fabrics such as silk. Why bother trying to look chic, and stylish. Give up. Go polyester. Polyester is such a comfy, sexy fabric. You can just chuck it in the machine, drip-dry it on the line any old how, fling it on straight after and look a million dollars.

I agree, ironing is one of the most fatiguing of household chores, but it must be done. Invest in a good-quality iron and solid ironing board – don’t bother with those cheap versions; it’s false economy. You will end up cursing its flimsy construction. A nice, padded ironing board cover is a necessity too, unless you wish to press in grill patterns onto your clothes. (If you can afford a professional steam iron, I am green with envy.)

See how pretty this silk tee looks now, ironed?

Fashion Challenge: Wearing Wrong Right

Imagine a world without colour, with everyone dressing in black and grey all the time – how dreary it would be. It would look quite a lot like an endless Melbourne winter, and that would surely get your spirits down.

That’s the main reason I love wearing colour – it is a real mood enhancer. It makes dressing more exciting. But just a little colour is not enough for me. No mere dash of red here or there (which some people consider such a classic that it’s almost a neutral), or a bit of khaki or navy. I find that dull. I love to dabble in unsafe colour. Colour that is bold – daring, even. I particularly enjoy matching colours that are slightly wrong, ones that aren’t commonly paired together.

I love to dabble in unsafe colour. Colour that is bold – daring, even. 

I was elaborating on this topic a few weeks ago at the theatre where I work, and I was challenged by one of my colleagues to wear all the ‘wrong colours’ all the following week. I accepted with pleasure. I didn’t think this would be a difficult challenge, and it wasn’t, except that it did make me think about styling my outfits a little bit more than usual. In the mornings I normally decide what to wear very quickly, while I am showering. This time such a fun challenge had me thinking about what to wear days ahead of time.

To cover all bases of this fashion challenge, I decided to have a different theme each day: clashing colour, too many colours, and a multitude of pattern.

Clashing Colour

The terms ‘clashing’ and ‘complementary’ are often used interchangeably, referring to colours that are opposite to one another in the colour wheel. They can also be described as high contrast – which for some may be a more useful way of thinking about it when choosing colours to wear together, especially if there is no colour wheel handy (and who has one of these hanging on their closet door?). Complementary or high contrast colours can look fantastic together and make each other pop. Two of my favourite combinations are turquoise and red, or mint with red.

Mauve, tangerine and beige harmonise nicely, from FossilWhat can be more confusing is throwing the concept of harmonising colours into your palette. Research the term and you will read that colours such as red, orange, yellow (the colours that blend into one another on the colour wheel) harmonise. Yet other sources will say red and pink, for example, clash, yet they are sitting next to one another on the colour wheel – just on the other side.

I call this the Big Colour Lie. I am not sure who first made it up – probably someone who was afraid of standing out too much – but it is BOGUS. Almost any shade of red and pink look great together! The same can be said about blue and green.

A lovely and unusual combination of clashing colours from FossilClashing colours as those hues that are too close for visual comfort – when you first see them together they can give you a shock, make you wince and look away. They don’t blend in a harmonising way, but try to dominate one another. The key here is that one will be slightly on the cool side, and the other slightly on the warm side. They are almost the same but not quite, so they look a little strange or wrong next to one another. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing – it’s striking, unusual and challenging, and therefore exciting. (And taking a few daring risks with colour is not really going to hurt anyone.)

They are almost the same but not quite, so they look a little strange or wrong next to one another.

Some examples are vivid orange with a very vibrant cool pink; or plum (red-purple) with violet (blue-purple); or in a triple-header I wore recently of teal (dark blue-green) with ultra-violet and cobalt blue. And yesterday I saw the leaves of the Moreton Bay Fig tree were two coloured: olive green underneath, and an almost blue-green on top. Who can say nature got it wrong?

This concept can also work with a slightly ‘dirty’ colour worn with a bright, clear colour, such as mustard yellow with hot pink, or maroon with sky blue. ‘Dirty’ colours are those tertiary shades, mixed from three primaries (with or without black), while ‘clear’ or secondary shades are mixed only from two (with or without white). Another favourite combination of mine is acid yellow with silver-grey and maroon or cobalt – the shock of cobalt and yellow is lessened by the neutral grey. The possibilities are endless!

Colour-blocking: striking and shocking!Experimental colour was a huge trend a couple of years ago, and the fashion industry referred to this as ‘colour blocking’. Colours were usually quite bright, and shapes of garments were often very simple and graphic. Reiterating the look exactly may look a little passé now, but doing an image search on the term will undoubtedly give you a fresh perspective on fun colour combinations. Today you may prefer to take those colours and interpret them differently, such as wearing two dominating colours, with a third or possibly a fourth added in the form of a belt or pair of shoes.

Too Many Colours

As I quoted in the Ninth Commandment recently, the famous Genevieve Antoine Dariaux believed that really only two colours should be worn at once. I usually prefer to throw in a third (unless I am wearing a printed dress, for example) so that the balance is slightly off – I find that far more visually interesting than perfectly matched garments.

Wearing lots of colours (four or more) is easier to achieve if you stick to a colour family: perhaps three or even four colours in various shades plus a matching print (or two!) in the same shades. This sounds a little crazy, but it can be a lot of fun if you can pull it off. I wouldn’t want to dress like this every day, but once in a while it adds a little spice to your week.

Just remember the easiest way to pull this off is to wear two main colours, and incorporate the third or fourth colours in your accessories.

A Patchwork of Pattern

Mixing patterns is easy! And fun. The simplest combination is stripes with polka dots. One favourite outfit of mine that I often wear is a vintage 80s French blue skirt with white polka dots, with a black and white horizontally striped tee.

It is more difficult to match complex patterns, but it can be done. One way is to choose prints that are in similar colours and tones. Tone refers to the level of brightness or intensity in a colour, or to temperature – whether it is warm or cool.

Another method of mixing and matching prints is to use similar types – for example, florals that are relatively alike in style, and in harmonising tones, such as in the picture above. The hat and the shorts both have a painterly floral pattern, while the cherry print is done at the same scale as the pink flowers on the shorts, but in colours similar to the hat. Note the hat is a warmer, orange toned red, while the pair of shorts is cool-toned, while the white space in cherry print helps unite all three patterns. 

Contrasting prints can work too, whether they contrast in scale (a large floral print worn with a tiny floral, both in similar tones, or narrow horizontal stripes worn with wide vertical stripes), or in type – the aforementioned stripes with polka dots being a simple example – but polka dots could work with a floral in similar tones too.

Above, the houndstooth and spot pattern work together because they are both navy and white, and almost a reverse of one another – the amount of white space in the spot pattern relaxes the eye. Below, different textures and patterns work – a striped knit, needlework lace and an appliquéd skirt – because they are all in yellow and cream. 

A super easy method for the nervous is to wear a garment incorporating multi-prints – the designer has already done the work for you!

However much colour or pattern you incorporate into your outfit, the most important thing is that you shouldn’t feel or look overwhelmed – people should still be able to see you. How we dress is an aspect of our personality, so the colours you choose to wear should not only suit your complexion, but who you are. But even timid types who shy away from bold colour shouldn’t be afraid to experiment occasionally, rather than sticking to safe, dull shades. The right colours next to your face just might make you blossom!

What I Actually Wore

Date: Wed 12/03/14
Weather: 21°C / 69.8°F, a grey, threatening rain

For the clashing theme, I decided to wear pink and orange before I had even cast an eye over the contents of my closet, so it took me very little time to dress. I decided my burnt orange skirt (note, orange is always warm – a cool orange is really brown) would clash deliciously with the cool raspberry pink top. They are both quite strong, rich colours, and I would use a belt to unify them. I did try three different ones on, but the rich tan Chinese knot belt was the last, and as soon as I clipped it on I knew it was the right one. It matched the burnt orange so well.

The woven cane earrings are a light brown, and the silk raincoat hot pink – both these shades slightly off-kilter with the tan belt and pink top. That is exactly what I find fun about wearing ‘slightly wrong’ colours.

For my third colour I picked out a new pair of violet snakeskin heels, that I had bought secondhand for exactly $6. They were unworn, and still had the original pricetag on them, stating that the first owner had bought them for $40, marked down from $200. (And my sister Star has the nerve to call herself the Queen of Bargains.) The shoes proved hugely popular with colleagues at the theatre. (A year ago when I hurt my foot and I couldn’t wear proper shoes for over a month, people were lamenting that they wouldn’t get to admire my footwear for so long.)

Top: Veronika Maine
Skirt: Hannii
Coat: vintage 70s
Belt: French Connection
Shoes: Sachi
Earrings: vintage 70s
Bangles: vintage
Ring: souvenir, Vietnam

Date: Thu 13/03/14
Weather: 24°C / 75.2°F, bright morning

This time I go for what I dubbed in the end a mad mélange of an 80s gelati style. The outfit began with the pale pink balloon trousers, followed by the acid yellow twist gathered tank, and then the cerise ribbed cardigan. A pink and yellow theme began to develop and I began to pile on the accessories wildly: the fabric belt made from a patchwork of vintage silks, the ruffled silk polka-dot scarf, and all the different coloured costume jewellery. It was a wicked delight to throw in the baby blue shoes. Again the belt tied everything together (literally): it featured all the same colours, and polka dots.

As I commented to several people that day, the clownish pants were wrong almost in themselves – so bad they were good. One guy approved the outfit but remarked that I don’t look any different than I normally do! ‘Oh come on!’ I exclaimed, ‘Look at the pants!’ I had to rise and demonstrate the supreme width.

Tank: unknown label, secondhand
Pantaloons: Lauren Vidal
Cardigan: Ping Pong
Scarf: unknown label, souvenir, Noosa
Belt: from Crazy Haus giftshop, souvenir, Vietnam
Earrings: Bijou Brigitte, souvenir, Portugal
Bangle: unknown label, Melbourne boutique
Ring: souvenir, Spain
Shoes: Together!, vintage 80s

Date: Fri 14/03/14
Weather: 28°C / 82.4°F, a clear morning promising a warm day

At the last minute I decided to change the outfit I’d planned to wear (a mix of animal prints I believe), because I had finally got round to repairing the shattered areas in a skirt made from vintage Indian saris. There are two or three long tears which, when worn, are fortunately not visible, though mended tears are preferable to gaping holes. The tiered skirt is a souvenir from Portugal, not India at all, and is made from three differently patterned silks. It is also reversible, only the longest tier showing. I found it in a little, colourful store in the backstreets of Sintra, a fairytale city in the south of Portugal, climbing many cobbled stairs to get there.

I team that with a black and white striped t-shirt from Zara, which, incidentally, was also bought on the same trip to Portugal, though in Porto. Black and white stripes are almost like a neutral pattern, and can be worn many ways.

The red suede shoes are laser cut with a lovely little floral pattern, which I thought was a nice and lateral match with the florals in the skirt.

Also featuring a floral pattern, the spectacular blue enamelled earrings are yet another souvenir from Portugal, from the jewellery boutique Brigit Bijou on the Rua Augusta, Lisbon. That boutique was an Aladdin’s Cave of treasure! The parrot earrings I wore the day before were also bought there. The black onyx ring is a souvenir from the Ben Thành Market in Saigon, Vietnam (an awesome market to shop in). 

Top: Zara
Skirt: souvenir, Portugal
Shoes: Marchez Vous
Earrings: Bijou Brigitte, souvenir, Portugal
Ring: souvenir, Vietnam