A Farewell to Winter

I am a long-term fan of tweed for winter. There is something so cosy about this fabric, if it is good quality wool. I particularly love the herringbone pattern and have managed to collect many examples of it over the years, most of which is vintage, or merely secondhand, and a little of which was purchased new. [You can read more about the different types of tweed patterns, and how to distinguish them here.]

A really fun way to wear it, I have decided, is all at once if you can possibly manage it. Even better if they are separates that all differ a little; in this case, a proper suit scores low styling points.

[The coat] clinched my decision that it was time I made another homage to tweed.

This 1970s coat I am wearing has a very amusing label: “Richard Shops – Such Clever Clothes”. I found it in an op shop in the midst of a heatwave last summer. I suffered trying it on, but it was worth it. I certainly didn’t need any more coats, but I loved the tailored shape of it, and the enormous lapels. It clinched my decision that it was time I made another homage to tweed. The occasion of the first homage on these pages was way back in 2009, so it’s about time I reprised the look.

I’ve had the baggy pants for a few years – they remind me of plus-fours styled this way – but going by the drop crotch, they are modern. The label is clearly designer, it’s so difficult to read: white embroidery on cream, which is twisted and folded. I eventually decrypted it and read ESS Laboratory. Established in 2001, the label is Melbourne-born, and the two designers Japanese. (My effort was rewarded, because their bio alone is pleasingly intellectual. You can read more about their work on their blog.)

The Pierre Cardin blouse is a silky herringbone print, also found in an op shop, but in spite of its designer associations, it is disappointingly made from polyester. The cut is too awesome though for the fibre to be a deal breaker.

While the 1950s tweed hunting cap does not have a herringbone pattern, is does suit this outfit very well.

I am happy to say I enjoyed wearing the coat and pants together recently, although with a warm wool knit instead of a blouse, and a different hat. However, that is the last time for this winter, for tomorrow it will officially be spring – hurrah!

Photos: May 2018

Summertime Gothic

Time was in Melbourne when many goths wandering like lost souls through the streets were a very familiar sight. Having gone through art college myself, they were never a threatening or repugnant presence to me as they were to some, and I was always intrigued (and entertained) by their bold sartorial expressions.

What a spectacular head dress! (from @mywitchery; outfit @burleskacorsets-blog.)Their mania for emulating the darker aspects of the Victorian period in respect of dress seemed to work well for winter – frock coats, puffy sleeved shirts, cloaks, big boots – but I marvelled that so many seemed at a loss as to what to wear for summer, always a concern for sweltering days in an Australian city, even one so far south as Melbourne.

Melbourne Goth & Victorian Picnic 2017I always felt sorry for them, suffering on broiling days in their multiple floor-length layers. They really needed a stylist I decided, poor things, to help them figure out a ‘summerweight’ goth look. I was sure their angst-ridden expressions had more to do with suffering from imminent heatstroke than affected Victorian anguish.

You don’t see many goths in Melbourne anymore however. Perhaps the old goths of the 90s and Noughties have grown up, or moved to the suburbs and got haircuts and real jobs. Research lead me to discover the goth movement is still going strong in Europe, with many large annual festivals (mainly in Germany) still being held and attracting tens of thousands, with steampunk and even ‘steamgoth’ now entering the field as well.

Melbourne Goth & Victorian Picnic 2017One way to keep cool – not for everyone however; Melbourne Goth & Victorian Picnic 2017In October last year, the Melbourne Gothic & Victorian Picnic was held in the Fitzroy Gardens (north of the city proper), it is pleasing to discover. However a quick perusal of photos shows that most goths are wearing quite heavy garments for mid-spring, with a few concessions in the form of punk-inspired torn lace or lingerie – a revealing look not for everyone.

I’ve long wanted to do a tongue-in-cheek homage on a summer version of typical goth splendour, but have held off until I secured just the right outfit. I finally found it, and here it is to celebrate the last day of summer: a billowing silk, floor-length dress featuring some cobwebby lace in the yoke, a nod to gothic Victoriana for the more modest young lady. The loose skirts, low back and front, and sleeveless cut make it perfect for an Australian summer.

Add a lace parasol (I only had a cream one, but a real goth might prefer tattered black) to protect one’s delicate pallor from the burning rays of the Australian sun, a dour expression, and you’re good to go. For an evening wrap against potential night chill, consider a black lace shawl which can be prosaically wrapped round the shoulders, or draped over the head for that funereal aspect.

Visit A Study of Goth Subculture (2009) for both dissertations and detailed fashion information; a relatively recent story at The Conversation on Goth, Steampunk and the State of Subculture Today (2016) is also worth a read.

Photos: March 2017

Brogues, Pt 2

Summer Brogues

Some are brogues, and others are hybrids of brogues, oxfords, ghillies and spectator shoes. These summer brogues were my all-time favourite brogue shoes I have ever owned.

I can’t recall which brand they were, but I bought them from the same sale site as the brogues in the previous story, but these were fantastic from day one. They were just so comfortable: the leather was soft and the open tops and perforations were cooling for summer. The sole was also quite sturdy and supportive – more so than the taupe Urge brogues, and they certainly lasted longer. I also really loved the colour combination.

I wore these shoes to the death of the laces. They were so well-loved one simply broke in half one day. It was as strangely difficult to find off-white shoelaces as non-synthetic ribbon in this town, especially as I needed a particular length for the criss-cross lacing required by the shoes.

I eventually ran some to earth in a shoe-repairers near my workplace. The shopkeeper searched through a box of what resembled a decade’s worth of random shoelaces, and triumphantly produced these for me.

It meant that I could squeeze a little more life out of these beloved brogues, although you can see in the second picture just how worn they had become more that three years after the first photo was taken. The new laces were a bit too long, and quite a bit thinner, so they didn’t look as neat tied on. But at least it meant I was able to get one more season’s wear out of them before they finally well and truly ‘carked it’ (a bit of Australiana equivalent to ‘bit the dust’).

I was able to get one more season’s wear out of them before they finally well and truly ‘carked it’ …

I still have not found adequate replacements. I thought I had, for a few weeks, when I purchased a pair of brown tan shoes that were made of plaited leather, creating a kind of lattice effect. I thought they would be brilliant for summer. They came from the same sale website as these, but the delivery was suddenly cancelled, presumably because they had oversold their stock. I am still bitter about that, although with the refund I bought a red and white gingham dress on eBay, which has mollified me somewhat (it arrived), and I love it.

Photos: January 2013, April 2016

Brogues, Pt 1

Brogues with Bows

I have loved brogues for a long time. I don’t know from whence this love affair sprang, but it has mostly to do with the punctured leather they are made from: decoration that belies practicality.

While the word ‘brogue’ derives from the Norse brök (leg covering), the shoe itself has its origins in seventeenth century Scotland and Ireland. They were designed for walking the peat bogs of those countries, the tiny holes perforating the leather allowing water to drain out.

A guide to brogued shoes (illustrations from Toni Rossi)They started out as very rudimentary shoes made from raw hides with the hair inwards, to leather tanned with oak-bark. By the eighteenth century they had evolved into a heavier shoe with hobnailed soles, and in the following century the shoe gained a second layer which was pinked to allow water to drain out, with an inner layer that was not, preserving water resistance.

Prince Edward, Duke of Windsor, popularises brogues by wearing them as golfing shoes (image via Pinterest)In the twentieth century, it was Edward, Prince of Wales, who took these traditional shoes out of the countryside and into the city, playing golf in them in the 1930s and thereby making them exceedingly fashionable. Women’s versions soon followed with the addition of a heel. Half-brogues, hybrids of Oxford and brogue, were next, with heels rising higher and higher in the first decade of the twenty-first century, making the most practical walking shoe less so. But they sure look good!

When I purchased this pair of dark taupe brogues by label Urge online from a sale website, I was quite surprised when they arrived sans shoelaces. I decided that I wanted nothing so prosaic as that. I had seen brogues tied with satin ribbons before, and liked the look – there is something storybookish about them. Immediately I seized a ribbon out of my sewing box to test out the look.

The tiny eyelets were a hindrance, but I dealt with that by wrapping the ends of the ribbon with sticky-tape and thread it through. I liked it (though not so much the mauve colour, which inadvertently matched my carpet)!

It is almost impossible to purchase non-polyester ribbon in this paltry town (unless presumably one is a denizen of the fashion industry and has secret sources) so I went shopping on Etsy. A natural fibre would be more flexible and fall more prettily. I found a peach rayon ribbon and waited impatiently for it to arrive. Once more I went through the tedious process of threading the eyelets, but I was very pleased with the result.

After all that effort, I must confess that the shoes themselves were not the most comfortable, being a little narrow in the toe. But wear made them give a little and they became more comfortable for commuting to work in, which is what I bought them for. Unfortunately, these fashionable brogues did not possess hobnailed soles, and after a winter or two of hard wear, I ruthlessly (but sadly) put them in the bin where their holey-ness belonged.

Unfortunately, these fashionable brogues did not possess hobnailed soles …

I’ve since owned other brogues, and this past winter have been often wearing a pair of dark tan vintage 70s oxfords, with a two-inch stacked heel, that I found in an op shop for around $12. They were in pristine condition and had even been resoled by a previous owner. I have already roughed them up a little on toes and heels, but that’s what shoes are for – and then it will be on to the next pair!

Photos: July 2012
References: Shoes, by Caroline Cox, New Burlington Books, 2012; Shoes, by Linda O’Keefe, Workman Publishing NY, 1996

End of Winter Celebration

Red wool, cashmere and rabbit fur trim cape, bought comparatively expensively for $300 from a vintage boutique in Melbourne to celebrate winning a new client.Today is officially the last day of winter – hurrah, hurrah! It was in fact gloriously sunny enough to be the first day of spring, and I certainly did not need a coat to go outside today. In truth, we Melburnians know we won’t be shedding the woollen coats just yet, but the promise of spring makes a huge impact on one’s joie de vivre.

I have said before that I have many coats, and a while back when I was culling a few because they were worn out, I decided I had to photograph the entire collection for posterity. It took me a whole day, and even then I forgot a couple, and I have since added a couple more. But I was shocked to learn the total: more than 60! Even I find it hard to believe I have space to store them all.

Camel wool coat – a holy grail find in an op shop that set me back $30.Nearly every single one is second hand, I am proud to say. One is a genuine antique from 1850, and the next oldest is from the 1930s. A few more (including ones I forgot to photograph) are from the 1940s, 50s, and 60s and then quite an armload of them are from the 1970s.

I do try to wear as many of them as I can, but some of course are only for special occasions, such as the 1850s striped velvet skating coat – I don’t wear that when know I am going to indulge in risk-taking behaviour such as drinking red wine, or consuming melting ice creams in the dark.

This navy cashmere French-made coat was bizarrely inexpensively priced at $12 in a Melbourne op shop (I think the staff member was suffering from concussion when they priced this) – and then I found $2 in one of the very deep pockets!This last Melbourne winter has been so cold that I mainly wore only the big guns: my longest wool and cashmere coats, along with a few short ones that I broke out when I was going out and about only during mild days. I have a couple of long leather trench coats, but I didn’t feel they were warm enough for days under 10°C – it does not get cold enough in the city to actually snow, but those Antarctic winds sure do blow!

Many of these capes, coats, and jackets were purchased in Melbourne op shops (thrift stores) and a handful of vintage boutiques, but a few I bought online from mostly America.

Vintage 60s pure wool short jacket, found in an op shop for $6! This has such a great shape, and I love the bracelet-length sleeves.I really love tweed, and was pleased to find this wool jacket for around $10 in a small op shop on the fringes of Melbourne, when one of my sisters took me on a tour of all the op shops in her area. It is missing its belt, but I have found quite a few stand-ins. I had always wanted a baseball jacket, and what better than a vintage 50s one? This wool Dodgers jacket does up with buttons, not a zip. I bought this at a Unique Vintage warehouse sale for about $45. These six coats and jackets I have showcased here are the ones I have worn most often this winter, but there are other ones I adore, such as the 70s Dr Zhivago suede and fur coat, the leather of which has become quite fragile in parts. I am a bit scared to wear it for fear of irreparable tears forming. I have already repaired some of them myself.

As the weather becomes a little less icy, I hope to start taking a few more lighter-weight coats on outings. Meanwhile, the first week of spring is due to return to winter weather, although Melbourne is honouring the occasion with some sunshine forecast for tomorrow.

You can see the entire collection in my new autumn/winter gallery, in A Glory of Coats.

Photos: January 2017