Frock Wars

Hey you know when you get dressed to go out and I dunno ... do some stuff?
Well I got my Friday Frock on and when I came back home I didn't get a chance to snap some pics coz The Phoenix took it all off.
Oooh errrr!
I was too knackered to put it all back on again ... but since I so enjoyed Friday's frock-up and de-frocking I decided on an outfit rerun today.

 I've outed this hat-tacular 1960s, patchwork-print, cotton beret I snaffled from an expensive op shop recently for $8.
Normally they have the most insane rip-off prices but I thought eight bucks was rather generous of them as they would normally charge at least $35 for something like this.

 I'm never too busy to stroke the pussy. Ain't she loverly?

 I love the hip-tastic gored skirt on this dress.  I always feel compelled to do some extra swingy hip action while wearing it.
And of course, Rough Vera would approve of my double-bag style.
The green tights are new from Sock Dreams - I love their tights so much!!

 Why the bindhi?  Why not?

Sparkly glitter shoes have special magical powers and cause people to weep in the street.
It's was so lovely to evoke some powerful emotions again while out and about this morning.

 There are many label whores out there so here's the label of my one dollar, 1970s, dead-stock dress.

Love that hat label font.

I wonder what I have in store for me today?
Happy Monday everyone!!
Desiree xo

Miss Hospital Corners

Finding a mound of unopened mail is such a fulfilling experience isn't?  Like hell!
Lucky I tackled the job yesterday though, as I discovered I was due for a hospital appointment in two hours. Oh woopee.
I really cannot face going to potentially invasive appointments looking like I just got out of bed.
Call me vain, a drama queen, whatever!
So I got tarted up as usual, plus it helped take the edge off the panic.

As soon as I got there, who should start yelling the ward down but my favourite Nurse Jennie: "Arrrggghhhh I saw your shoes going up the stairs and just KNEW it was you!"
Dear of her:).
***Just so you're not worried, I'm in the peak of health and the lady-bits are in top shape especially for a woman who has had four natural births.***

It's been a bit wintery lately so I grabbed the chance to wear my 1960s tweed and fur suit, since spring is only juuuuuuuust around the corner.
The 1970s spotty silk blouse was from a vintage fashion fair and yes, my double bags are rammed with essentials.

The skirt has an interesting feature.  
It's fitted all the way down and has no back vent or pleat to aid walking.
For those who haven't worn "wiggle" skirts and dresses, the hem clamps the knees and it actually helps to walk if one is wearing heels.
But it also means one must wiggle the butty in order to move forward.
Those designers back then knew exactly what they were doing.
So duh, that's why they're called wiggle skirts - be warned: essential saucy wiggling = uproar.

A bit of hatty goodness in the form of a 1930s cocktail hat.  

Among several rather hilarious reactions to this outfit, most of which involved the words, traffic, glazed eyes, near dangerous accident and momentary loss of concentration, one poor man at the hospital nearly feel off his crutches and into the gutter - I felt very sorry for him, poor thing.
I mean, I didn't think I looked strange, but apparently I'm "a sight for sore eyes".

Dunno, must be the shoes.

Coats Anonymous

I really must stop buying coats, jackets and capes.
There's no excuse to buy more.
I live in a climate where one coat would do all winter ... and that's just on some cold days.
It's getting to the stage where I'm considering starting up a support group.
Coats Anonymous.

I cannot live without this faux-fur coat.  Many think I'm mad, but while they're shivering in a hoodie, I'm snug and smug. Ha I say. Ha!

Nobody will ever convince me a red coat is not a wardrobe basic.

This 1940s fur cape is a critical part of my wardrobe.

A 1920s men's tailcoat is essential.  Isn't it?

I have no excuse.  But it's red! And I can pretend I'm a nurse!

I must insist however, that every feather-wearer needs a feather cape.

Mohair cape anyone?

I suspect Sarah Misfits who so kindly gifted me this faux-fur jacket could be a likely candidate for Coats Anonymous, but she has every excuse to hoard coats galore.  Her Canberra winters average minus zero-10 degrees.

Fur jackets get cheap thrills "ooh do you mind if I touch it?"


There are other addicts out there.  I just know it.
We identify each other by our shifty demeanour when we spy a coat-wearer, then there's the familiar shuffle to get closer to the offending garment.
I had an all too-familiar experience recently with a woman at a vintage pop-up market where I spotted a jacket (which of course I bought).

Offending jacket.


Me: Mmmm ... this is nice.
Her: Yes, I bought it about 15 years ago and I haven't worn it for ages coz I already have enough coats.
Me: Oh (high-pitched over-loud laughter) I probably have a few too many coats and jackets for Brisbane.
Her: (Quick glances side-to-side) Me too. I can't help it.  I love them.
Me: (Eyes bulging - fellow addict spotted).  My son's wardrobe is jammed with them and he can't hang up his clothes (gasping with relief at confession).
Her: (Relieved look - a comrade) When did you start "collecting"?
Me: Four years spent in London.  It ruined me and I really don't need more but they're so beautiful. You?
Her: Same but I'm cutting down (avoids eye-contact).
Money changes hands and we shuffle apart with heads bowed.


I am a ruined woman.
Desiree xo

Armed Against the Suburban Scourge

I feel naked if I'm not wearing at least one huge ring on my hand.

Preferably they number around four or five, but in a hurry, just the one will do.

For some it's a watch, for others, a special necklace or pair of earrings that have them believe in their invincibility.
For me, it's rings. The bigger, the better.

Such is the call of the ring, I've been known to leave the house only to return for my fistful of magical powers.

I need the super-powers they give me against the evil of suburban drudgery.

It works very well too.

No-one can pierce my armour when I'm fisted-up.

 Amulets to deflect the scourge of mediocrity are among my weapons in the armoury of fabulousness.

While armloads of very loud and clunky bangles give me extra protection against any attempts at brain-washing by the tracksuit brigade.

I fight the incessant battle against mediocre casual wear and the more I fight, the stronger a super-power I become.
Long live the fight against the scourge of indifference!

Desiree xo

You Have Five Minutes and Counting ...

I cannot believe I've not taken any photos of the two maxi skirts I have been wearing to death all winter.
Put it this way.
I'm in my dressing gown slurping down my first cuppa of the day, yelling at the kids, petting Pips the guinea pig, then realise I have to be somewhere in five minutes and I'm not even dressed.
But it only takes three minutes to go from this ...

to this ...

It all starts with a maxi skirt, then I quickly build from there.
The gorgeous Vix sent me the incredible silver lame skirt that makes me feel like a mermaid - yes hon, it gets worn a LOT:). 
Instant traffic-prang shiny glamour and I don't even have to make an effort to tart myself up. 

 The 1970s purple cotton shirt was my Nana's - check out the points on that collar!

The faux-fur jacket was a gift from my lovely Sarah Misfit, more glamour in a jiff.
No time for hair?  Get thee a scarf on thine tresses.
Makeup? Just red lippy and mascara.
Slip on metallic brogues and run like the wind!

This is another version of the same formula of maxi+top+jacket.
I snatched this skirt up like a wild thing at a market for $5.  
Didn't care if it didn't fit, lucky it does though, it gets worn to death.  
Again, mad colour = glam in a jiffy.

Double-up the t-shirts, grab the bag I used the day before, jacket ... run!  
I have my earrings and necklaces hanging close to my bedroom door so it's easy to snatch a handful and whip them on while I'm dashing out the front door.

Oh dear, bad hair day so I grab a scarf and tie it 1940s factory-girl style.
The reason why I haven't snapped these types of outfits off before?  Well, I'm in too much of a hurry!
You should see The Phoenix's face as he watches the 2-3 minute transformation - it never ceases to amaze him.
As you can see, maxi skirts have replaced my winter jeans and I can just keep on layering tights and leggings on really cold days. 
Brill.

Frock of Ages

It wasn't so much a parting of the Red Sea today.
When I wore this outfit, it was more of a Pied Piper reaction.
There were lots of smiley faces out there, including me.
You know, ever since I swore off jeans this winter, my frocks, skirts and suits are feeling more and more like everyday wear.
I don't feel casual, I just feel incredibly comfortable in the clothes I have always loved.

The frock is a 1940s taffeta slip that's too big for me but that's what I love about it.  
Swishy, swirly and comfortable.  Much better than jeans.
Yes it has lots of fade around the hem but I really like the effect.

It could definitely do with a wash this weekend because I've been wearing it so much.  I'll soak it briefly in Woolwash in tepid water and hang it in the shade to dry.  No problem.
The frock is slightly see-through in sunlight so I employed a cunning plan.

Safety pants!  These are 1940s rayon and lace with a two-button fastening at the side.  I love them and have quite a few pairs of these now.  Yes, I wear old knickers!

I bought the 1980s black, sequinned, silk top from a flea market for $5, the headband is from a suitcase rummage a couple of weeks ago, shoes are VW Melissa's from eBay and yes, I double-bagged again today:).

Enjoy your weekend chickies and don't forget to do your pelvic floor exercises!
Desiree xo

Outfit Saves Mum From Insanity

It's the time of year for the Brisbane Exhibition - known as the Ekka - our 11-day agricultural show.
I've been once before, ten years ago in fact.
Such was the traumatic effect of screaming kids, parents well on the way to hating one another, rip-off rides, disgusting food, filth and overpriced showbags filled with the most hideous junky toys and lollies ever created - I swore off returning.
Time heals all and today I took Number Three Son and The Stylist.

 Hey and it really wasn't too bad.  
I made no death threats, I didn't crouch clucking in a corner of the chook-judging pavilion and there were no food fights.

 Number Three Son was patient and The Stylist was excited - it was her first visit.

 She and I couldn't resist getting our hands painted with mendhi - she loved it!

 Number Three Son took his little sister on her first roller coaster ride - they loved it.

 Truly, I think the thing that got me through the day without going mad was my outfit - it made me feel like I was in another place - bizarre or no?
I really enjoyed wearing this combo even if I did look a bit like one of the entertainment acts, hehe:).

 Time to go home after five hours and no sedatives needed (for me) - whew!

 I wore this 1970s cotton skirt thrifted early this week for $2 - it shall be known as the "lounge room curtain skirt".
I wore it with a leopard-print body suit and a 1970s blouse I also scored for $2 - I love the sleeves and big, pointy collar!

 I couldn't resist getting myself a pack of bindhis at the henna stall - I think these are going to be worn a lot - so comfy, I forget they're even on.

 I love the clash of the two prints together.

It was fun, but another ten-year gap before revisiting the Ekka is just fine by me.
I hope you're all travelling well this week my dears.
Desiree xo