Beryl the Peril

My Nana's name was Beryl.
One of her secret nicknames was Beryl the Peril, which seemed to suit her.
If she'd ever found out, we would have been given a mighty tongue-lashing from that tiny woman who drove her 1960s Mini Cooper, well into her 80s, like an absolute demon.
She died a natural death a few years ago, at almost 100.
I can't say I loved her, but I admired her tenacity and spunk, spending most of her busy days fending off would-be thieves and no-goods apparently dead set on ripping her off.

I've seen a photo of her as a schoolgirl, not long before she married and started a family in Invercargill, New Zealand (knocked-up-at-16-to-devastatingly-handsome-motorcyle-tearaway).

She looked a right "sort" and there's something about these pics of me wearing this original 1920s silk frock that reminds me of her.

Beryl approved of a woman in a modest frock.

I got to know Beryl best during the 1970s and right up until her death in 2006, she was absolutely mad about wearing and surrounding herself with bright colours.
She frequently boasted about her thrifty shopping habits, of buying most of her clothes from op shops, flaunting her fluorescent red and green pairs of crimpolene "slacks" to the world.
She knew she looked fabulous and no-one was going to argue with her.

But I always felt there was something about her that teetered on the edge of maniacal religious sectarianism and pant-less table-top dancing.
In fact I know she would have approved of my frockage and forgiven my saucy glimpse of lacy scanties.

Beryl would never in a million years have approved of a bottle-blond slattern with her roots on display.
But she would have been glad I had a clean hanky and giant clips to "keep your hair off your face".

1920s silk frock - Niddie's Rag & Bone Shop

Johnny Cash earrings - made by Mallory of Create Beautiful Beads

My wedding wrist corsage from October, 2011

Vintage tapestry bag and bangles - thrifted

1940s snakeskin handbag - vintage shop in NZ

Suede shoes - found

Beryl, you were a very strange woman and a scary grandmother, yet a tough and fascinating person.
I don't miss you, but I do think about you this time every year, as you lay in peace beside your own mother.
Baci,
Desiree xo

Swing High, Swing Low

Nancy has been screaming at me from the back of the closet for the past two weeks.
She's been banished to the dark as I'm terrified she'll fade away to nothing if I have her on show.
From the condition of Nancy I'd say she's been around the block once or twice.
An original 1920s silk cocktail dress, she's got more than a few champagne stains and one of her sleeves has a tear in the elbow from all the wild table top dancing to hot jazz on long, sizzling nights.
I saved her from herself and she's been in rehab for nearly a year.

I love Nancy's sheer-ness and don't want to spoil it with a slip.
Hello AA silver leggings.

Just the right ensemble for a windy day;).
I've popped on my 1950s purple/blue head piece, Miss Rockabilly red feather earrings and my darling green Vivienne Westwood shoes.

Check out the ecru-coloured lace.  
It looks like a bow, but it's sewn on.
How about that pleated silk detail?

Still mulling over how I'll mend the small tear in the front ruffle.

More lace and pleated ruffles at the back.

Yes, Nancy's got her flaws but she's my swingin' ole gal and I adore her.

Have you ever bought a flawed vintage piece but worn and loved it anyway?

If I Didn't Care

I love to imagine the original owner of this 1940s suit getting out and about trying to squeeze in some good times between air-raids and long hours working at the ammunitions factory.
My musings are due to a tiny worn patch at the edge of the jacket's third buttonhole.
Maybe she used to button and unbutton it nervously, chain-smoking while waiting nervously for her man to turn up at their regular table in a dark, wartime pub.
A couple of buttons were missing when I bought this 1940s suit and I figure those buttons popped right off at the sight of him, or maybe they were pulled off when he didn't turn up at all.

Meet Betty, a hard-working suit for a gal about town.
I bought Betty from Savage Threads Etsy store for a modest $40 and have been drooling over her daily.

Since Betty came to stay, she's had a wee makeover with some vintage rhinestone buttons that are very close in style to the original lone single top jacket button it came with.

I love Betty's unusual collar, which was cut out as part of the jacket front, not added as a separate piece.  Wartime fabric savings.

Clever.

I love the jaunty cuffs too.

Snazzy.

And what about the two horizontal stripes in a co-ordinating grosgrain fabric?

Smart.

This baby is screaming out for a lime green floppy rose clip, 1950s beads, crystal drop earrings and a 1940s snakeskin handbag.

Oh, and the modern touch?
My Black Milk swimsuit printed with the famous Times Square V-Day photograph.
Just right.

 Blood-red Payless shoes;).

Oh Betty, you've still got it baby.

I'm sure Betty's original owner spent her very rare nights in washing and rolling her hair, browning her legs and listening to The Ink Spots.
Here's to all the Betty's in the world, waiting to be rescued and taken out for a night on the town.
xoxo

Health Warning: May Cause Blindness

You like pink?
I got some pink.

Yes I'm wearing my PJs.  Not just any old PJs mind you, these don't get to slip between the sheets and crumple up.  No way.
These are a migraine-inducing pair of 1930s lounging pyjamas in a very fine, floaty silk that I imagine the original owner donning for the odd game of late-night poker and gin-slings.

The colour is so intense that I get a visual shock every time I walk past my clothes rack.
They make me smile.

A massive green silk rose is the finishing touch.  Not much else needed except for cocktail rings and a snakeskin clutch.

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I love the details like the scalloped collar and all the red and white spotty edging and how about that embroidery?  The set is mint and I feel so lucky to have found it on Regina's eBay store, Neo Retro, several weeks ago.

Vivienne Westwood Melissa wedges are optional - I grabbed these for half price when the Melissa Australia online store had them for half-price in a Melbourne Fashion Week snap promotion.  Yay!
Couldn't decide between metallic purple and light blue nail polish - picked both:).

I've been so touched by all your very kind and sensitive responses to my last post featuring the Klimt swimsuit.  Thank you so much all you wonderful readers.
I'm trying to keep on top of responding, slowly getting there - I get so engrossed in reading and perving at all your amazing posts.
Desiree xo

Purple Peril

This weekend I've missed out on one of Brisbane's biggest vintage fashion fairs for the third year in a row ... **blowing raspberries**.
So I did the next best thing and dressed up in the late 1930s dress and bolero I bought at the last one I went to.

It's a damn shame about the perilous fading but what to do?
Risk further damage with dye or brave it and be proud of its flaws?

Well I don't believe I should be hidden away because of my age-related flaws, so why should my clothes be hidden away for being far less than perfect?

So I wear it as is.

Besides, it's purple!  'Nuf said.

When I first spotted this lovely bias-cut frock and jacket, I just couldn't turn away from it - I mean it's homemade and someone's gone to the effort of hand beading all the lovely embellishments.
Here's a bit of a close-up of the gold and silver beading.

I've always been a sucker for a bit of a puffy sleeve and super-soft satin lining.

The deep calf-length feels wonderful swishing around my ankles and the leopard-print satin wedges slapped me repeatedly, yearning to be worn, to see and be seen.

And yes, I mash-up my animal prints, yes I do!

If you're out and about digging for vintage treasures this weekend ... enjoy, break out of the mould and wear what you love.
Desiree xoxo

Them Chains Gonna Drag Me Down - DAY 21

The first time I ever saw a woman of a certain age in her underwear was when my grandmother discovered Weight Watchers in the 1970s and lost about 20kg.
She was only about 5ft tall so it was quite a bit for a little lady to lose.
Nana was so proud of her success that she insisted my mother take a photo of her in front of the house.
In her all-in-one girdle.
At age eight, all I could do was stand frozen in horror at her audacity, and at the strange, strangling contraption which held her "new" figure in a vice.
I realised with sadness that Holly Hobbie days-of-the-week knickers were not an option for old ladies; or maybe they just didn't come in old-lady sizes?
So if one old lady can wear her girdle on the outside, I figure one more old lady can't cause too much ruckus.
I love this 60s pink girdle I bought off Etsy ages ago, yet styling it was quite a challenge.
(Little voice says: "That's coz it's UNDERwear!")
I'm wearing it with black wet-look leggings, Etro blazer, 1940s snakeskin handbag and a Jean Paul Gaultier mesh and latex long-sleeved t-shirt I bought at Zambesi while holidaying in Auckland in 1996.
The t-shirt is insane - it has a body shape on it, front and back - the back has a spine and hips on it.
I'll need better light to get better front and back pics.
Some lovely readers wanted a close-up of my vintage brooches, so here they are.
I think I can safely say that Nana would have liked my bag, but the rest would have met with frosty disapproval.
Oh how I love this growing old disgracefully lark more and more each day!