À la Nancy Cunard

Well, after doing this shoot, all I can say is that armfuls of bangles are as inhibiting as enormous chopines must have been in the seventeenth century. I practically needed a servant to carry my arms about.

I have always greatly admired Cecil Beaton’s work; 1920s style in general; and Beaton’s portrait of Nancy Cunard in particular (below), her arms bristling with bangles from wrist to elbow.

However, before I could set this shoot up in homage, I had to increase my own collection of bangles in variety as well as number. I had the opportunity to expand it when in Vietnam earlier this year, and bought several wooden bangles, as well as four jade ones: green, purple, black – and finally a red bangle (the most expensive) carved with a fantastic cornucopia of dragons, vines and flowers.

None of them went up to my elbow like Nancy’s unfortunately. Did they make them especially large in the Twenties, or did women have really fat arms? Or is Nancy modelling home furnishings, or perhaps bits of sawn-off piping? I shall always wonder…

Check out the Out-takes & Extras gallery for more pics.
See more of Cecil Beaton's images here.

The Importance of Being Fashionable

I finally saw The September Issue last weekend. I was very much looking forward to it, and was not disappointed – except I could be greedy like my friend Lulue who thought there should have been even more fashion.

As far as a glimpse into what it takes to bring a fashion issue together, I thought it was great, being particularly fascinated by the power play between Anna Wintour and her fashion editors: gasp! Someone’s pages got the chop to make room for another’s! Grace Coddington (and some of her colleagues) were especially shocked when the ‘best’ DPS from a Twenties-styled shoot was axed, but I could see immediately that Wintour was right to do so. As good a shot as it was, it simply did not fit in with the others.

Wintour is criticised for being cold and ruthless, but it is obvious she is an extremely busy woman who has to make decisions expeditiously. Interestingly she states ‘being decisive’ is her greatest strength. To echo Lulue again, how many people can say that?

…“just because you love fashion, it doesn’t mean you’re stupid”.

I was also touched when she spoke of her erudite family, and how they belittled her accomplishments by condescending to be ‘amused’ by them.

As she declares early in the documentary, “just because you love fashion, it doesn’t mean you’re stupid”. Fashion has always been a popular form of self-expression, and it is not immoral to admire beautiful fabrics, or the genius of designers who are passionate about their work – and the legion of artists behind them, whether they are textile designers, journalists, or mere pattern cutters.

In fact, I don’t think one should ever underestimate the importance of bringing a little life, colour and happiness into people’s drab lives – even if it’s through the ‘frivolous’ medium of fashion.

What I actually wore #0025

Serial #: 0025
Date: 09/02/2009
Weather: a cool 21°
Time Allowed: 5 minutes

Monday morning blues… what better way to treat them than with Schiaparelli pink? Especially in the form of brand new patent heels bought the day before from Myer!

I wanted the shoes to stand out, so I chose a grey skirt bought from Staff in Dubai, teamed with what I call my meringue puff top from Veronika Maine. Its asymmetrical, standing collar necessitates an updo, however. Little pintucks gathered together with rosettes create a quilted look on the front and rear panels of the skirt. Both garments utilise fabric with a slight stiffness and pleasing rustle, which enables them to hold their shape.

Monday morning blues… what better way to treat them than with Schiaparelli pink?

I really love the sculptural aspects of both items, and the girly pink heels (matched with bright pink lipstick) offset them just enough.

Items:

Top: Veronika Maine
Skirt: Staff
Jewellery: Roun
Watch: Kenneth Cole
Lipstick: ‘Cherries in the Snow’, by Revlon
Shoes: ‘Devotion’, by Jane Debster

Blue and white wares

This elaborate concoction of blue and white beads is fit for a summer of flitting about a Greek island, robed in an empire-line gown and delicate leather sandals.

Alas that adventure is not on my horizon!

I strung this necklace together, inspired by the blue and white Chinese porcelain beads. The heart-shaped focal bead features two peacocks, tails spread and touching beaks. Lapis lazuli; both blue and white pearls in varying shapes; dumortierite and sodalite (both of which are cheaper substitutes for lapis lazuli); blue crystal quartz, and Indian bone beads make up the rest of the necklace. The beads on the earrings are suspended from sterling silver chandelier findings.

There is something luxurious
in wearing beads that are
so fragile.

There is something luxurious in wearing beads that are so fragile: there is the danger of destruction if it should slip from my fingers; a weight round my neck in more ways than one.

An Eastern European Refugee

How gorgeous does my sister Blossom look in these photos? So youthful and carefree at 15 years of age. When I interviewed her on Father’s Day, she sighed over them. “Oh, to be that young again!”

Her boyfriend bought her this dress because she looked like a refugee from Eastern Europe with no nice clothes. (That’s because she actually was.) It came from a boutique in Oakleigh or Clayton, she says, as did most of her clothes: there were few chain stores back then. The red and white print dress is piped in black, and fondly she pointed out the peasant-style lacing on the bodice.

Her boyfriend bought her this dress because she looked like a refugee from Eastern Europe with no nice clothes.

Of course, to be fashionable back then a girl had to wear a mini. “Lucky you had the legs,” I say, imagining a host of women whose figures would be better served by a more modest hemline.

“There weren’t many really large teenagers back then,” Blossom answered.

She recalled a school friend once remonstrating her for her overly long uniform. Blossom’s response to this unjust criticism was that she couldn’t possibly show the tops of her suspender stockings! As an impecunious refugee, she hadn’t yet moved on to more modern pantyhose.  

I wonder what other delightful memories lurk in Blossom’s head?