I Want You to Know You Are the Original

It seems to be a worldwide phenomenon, yet a strange one.
As soon as winter starts to bite, the population at large suddenly goes into black-grey-brown mode and it looks like the streets are covered in a sea of moving ants.
Why does this happen?
Why do people embrace loud colours in spring and summer only to turn on the mute button once the leaves have fallen?
It's a rhetorical question, but I'm mystified by the phenomenon each year. 
I only have this pic to show you I opted for colour this cold and rainy day ... I wore the $2  satin brocade frock I picked up at the Sunday market with bright tights and VW Temptations.

Last week was beautifully clear but chilly and I couldn't stop putting together outfits that looked like I'd fallen into a crayon box.

1950s coat and skirt - eBay

DIY gloves and glitter shoes

Hat brooch, belt, Mighty Mouse t-shirt, granny bag - thrifted

Ballet dancer earrings - gifted by Jet Set Helga

Harlequin hair bow and three beaded bracelets - gifted by the awesome Em of Vintage Sweetheart

Sunnies - shop in Fitzroy, Melbourne

"Mother" brooch - Etsy

Movie ticket brooch - flea market

Tights - Sock Dreams

Last Friday was "free-dress" day at The Stylist and #3 Son's school, which was quite a treat for them ... they planned their outfits days in advance and pondered on what school life would be like if they didn't have to wear uniforms.
I decided I would mix a bit of "free dress" with some uniform - these crazy kick-boxing shorts are what I've been after for absolutely ages and they recently appeared in my favourite oppy, Aid for the Blind, screaming "pick me, pick me!"
They're the closet thing I can find to honour my hero, M. Ali, the greatest.

Why yes, I did get some very strange looks ... 
But it's funny how foolish people look when they're sniggering away at a woman floating along in shiny boxing shorts, cape and flowers in her hair, who is staring them down and actually laughing with them.
Suddenly, they just don't know where to look.
Try it sometime.
You'll float like a butterfly.

"The man to beat me hasn't been born yet" - Mr Muhammad Ali

Yes, wearing boxing shorts absolutely does make you want to dance and kick your way down the street.
Truth.

Beads not gloves.

I deserved a piping hot coffee after all that kick-arse action.

Earrings, t-shirt, shorts, vintage Persian lamb cape, embroidered bag  - thrifted

Beaded bracelets - from Em again:)

Headband - more from my shop, Sassy Vamps

Patent Docs - retail

Leggings - Black Milk

Baci,

Desiree xoxo

Old Bag Drags Arse Out of Bed and Buys Some Shit

The title says it all, but I guess the best bargain was the wake-up coffee for this no-makeup face.

Yep, outta bed, brush teeth, wash face, slap on Vitamin E cream and out the door ... that's what weekend markets mean to me.
A portable coffee goes a long way:).

I know you're wondering what that strange thing is around my neck - it's a rabbit-fur scarf, which I bought about five minutes after walking through the gate.
Soooooo soft!!!

The Stylist snaffled this camera necklace for three bucks - she was happy to hear it came all the way from Harajuku, Tokyo, the setting of her favourite street-style book, Fruits.

I found these cheeky bush babies in the newly-flowering wattle.
They'd bought these crazy-arse hat/scarf/mitten thingys which kept them entertained for the rest of the day.
Nutters.

It's not what you think and no, I am not retrieving jewellery from my knickers either ... I'm just not hiding from the gals very well.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but there seem two categories of bargain-hunters: the early-birds (not me) and the "closers" (me!).

The closers are the stingy bastards who arrive a couple of hours before the market is due to finish, to prey on poor sellers contemplating hauling all their shite back home again.

Bingo, I'm there with an offer they can't refuse ... hey, I'm doing them a favour right?

It's also great for fruit, vegetable and bakery goodies as they NEED to go.

So I fill my bring-along bags with farm fresh, home-baked, super-cheap goodies to last a few days ... more bargains!

I rarely have the time or energy to unpack the car, sort out all the sundry household shite and  responsibilities, then snap pics of what I just bought.

But I had a window of opportunity after today's success.

Catch-of-the-day for me was this 1930s rayon-knit and lace nightie.
Ten bucks and she's mint.
They start at around $70 on eBay these days.

I've already given her a sweet old padded coat hanger on which to rest her exhausted glory and placed her among many more silky friends to natter with.
The wrinkles will just drop out in a few days ... sadly, unlike mine;).

I couldn't believe this scrummy early 1960s satin brocade frock hadn't been snapped up ... she'd been reduced from five to just two dollars.
I think she was waiting for me!

Fur scarf that I know will get some haters but I don't care ... $10.

1950s blue and grey three-strand granny beads - my favourite style of necklace - plus a beaded collar - $2 each.  Yay!!
I need to attach a hook and jump ring on to them and they'll be good to go.

This old darling needs me.
She really, really does ... I'm going to wipe her down with warm water and a tiny bit of detergent, get into the grubby bits with a toothbrush and I think she'll shine once again.
If you have any better suggestions for getting her cleaned up, I'm all ears.

Yep, she's got some age issues, but then so have I.
Unlike me however, she's intact.
I love her - $5.

Sarah Misfit convinced me I could wear yellow and I had her soothing voice whispering to me, "yes, you really need this, see how it sparkles?"
Two bucks.

I spent another whopping two bucks on this awesome Count Down t-shirt.

Sparkles intacta.

Cute poster in a wooden frame - $3.

Could be bakelite but not sure ... very, very old and delicate early plastic bangle for The Stylist.
She's very gentle with old delicate things ... like, say, her mama.
Two bucks.

She also snaffled this purple tutu for four bucks - something tells me I'll be trying to squeeze into this too.

I also found the lovely purple cardi and pink caplet for The Stylist - another whopping two bucks each.

Just thought I'd show you my putta hair and make-up, the result of a delightful evening spent watching Poirot, doing The Stylist's nails, drawing and colouring in cape designs with her and practising my 1930s hair-do skills with the hot sticks.
I was inspired by this scrumptious slapper ...

You better give La Dama some love for her cameo and the rosary beads jammed between her booboids, coz she's my sista!!
Molti baci,
Desiree xoxo

How the Frock Are Ya?

You wanna see some recent outfits?
Let's start off with a 1940s frock for Frock on a Friday eh?
I'm about to bombard you ...

The plasters are covering up a couple of icky bites that I couldn't stop scratching - all better now:).

1940s rayon frock and fur cape, feather hair clips, - eBay

Purple earrings - gifted by yummy Miss V of Two Squirrels Vintage

Heart ring - gifted by lovely Em of Vintage Sweetheart

1950s gloves - Etsy

VW Melissa Croc Mary Janes - Amazon

Snakeskin clutch, 1950s bead necklace, belt - thrifted

Two-tone tights - ummmm, they were a gift but I can't remember who ... sorry!

 Surprise!!  It's not a frock!

 Oi!  Tu mi guard? - You lookin' at me?

 Yeah I'm packin' heat ... gotta problem with that? ;))

 Tuxedo, 1950s bustier and earrings - eBay

Long glass bead necklace - gifted by Miss Danni-Long-Legs

Purple ring - gifted by Super Vix

Blue scarab ring - gifted by Hot Helga

Glitter shoes - DIY'd

1940s necklace - De Mille Vintage, Melbourne

 Gizz a kiss!
Molti baci,
Desiree xoxo

Never, Ever, Ever Stop Dancing

Oh dear, don't look at the hair ... look at the frock darlings.
This was me last Thursday night, a bagful of cream sequins by my side, with the possibility of an all-nighter ahead of me stitching the buggers onto this 1950s lace and tulle frock.
Why oh why?
For the ballet of course ... I was going to the ballet for the first time in 32 years and I wanted it to be spesh.

So I cheated!
Yes, I whipped out the hot glue gun and glued some shiny magic onto the skirt (and my fingers).

It did cross my mind whether Valentino's beaders are ever tempted to do the same an hour before showtime;).
I'm sure they do. 

It was The Stylist's first visit to the ballet and what a night!
The story of Brisbane's Cloudland Ballroom's brief 42-year reign as Australia's most luxurious dance venue, was interpreted with the most amazing choreography, costumes and music.
Cloudland opened in 1940 and despite its heritage listing, in 1982 it was flattened, demolished, destroyed late one night by a rogue demolition company, at the order of property developers.

It was a packed performance and I sat next to a wonderful elderly gent who told me he used to go to every Cloudland dance he could and saw Bill Hayley and His Comets perform in the 50s.
He said the ballet's rendition of the massive WWII street brawls between Australian diggers and their allies, those glamourous visiting American fighters "who always had two women each", was spot on.

This is how my frock turned out, I like it much better with a bit of sparkle.
I wouldn't mind a bit of uniform at my side;).

The motif was already attached to the lace bodice ... it was lovely to see others make an effort to frock up for the one-night-only performance before Queensland Ballet took its glorious performance to regional towns.
If you're going, get ya frock on love!
 

Blurry pics ... sorry, we had our hands full.
But keep an eye on that huge white ring on my thumb if you can.
 

The Stylist took her bestie ... just look at those faces.
The leggy-one wore the frock and jacket she wore to our wedding last October and an amazing pair of shoes she picked out for herself on the same trip.
I gave her a pair of lace tights that are too short for me and she chose to curl her hair and wear the awesome harlequin feck-off bow from Em of Vintage Sweetheart.

These two have been inseparable since birth, wee bestie is three months older than The Stylist and they've never had a spat.
Ever.
 

Shoe love.
 

We're exhilirated but tired after the eye-popping two-hour performance and oh no ... where's my ring?
No sign of it anywhere.
Later I found it down my leopard-print granny knickers while driving home of course ... where else?
The result of much suspender-glove-tulle grappling earlier in the loo, which I'm sure Lakota will appreciate on her Tah-Dah Tuesdays link;).

I hope you had a thoroughly disgraceful weekend my honeys.


Baci,
Desiree xo