Double Baggin' It

I once knew an old woman named Vera who always carried two handbags.
She also sported a grey beard and blew her nose on her petticoat, which frightened the bejesus out of me as a kid.
Yet the fact Rough Vera needed two bags to carry her shite in utterly fascinated me.
What was in one bag that couldn't be carried in the other?
Sandwiches?
Shaving gear?
Snotty slips?
I channelled Rough Vera today when I couldn't decide on one bag and decided there was method in her utter madness.

 First of all, there's the colour co-ordination thing with two bags - you can really go for it with any combo you fancy.
Then there's the 21st century lifestyle crap stuff like mobile, iPod, business card holder, Tic Tacs, massive bunch of keys, notebook and pen, all of which cannot possibly fit into one vintage handbag.

 Makes sense to have one vintage bag for wallet, hanky and lippy; the other for essential modern crapola.
The white bag is 1950s ostrich skin from a Melbourne flea market and the brown lizard-skin one arrived today, a bargain from Make Do Style's latest eBay clear out:).

 I s'pose I should talk about my outfit.
I'm wearing a 1930s slip and suit with fur collar, both from eBay; 1920s beaded cap also from eBay; comic tights from Mytights.com; VW Melissa Temptations from Amazon; earrings from Etsy shop, Bookhouse Creations, which specialises in Twin Peaks-themed jewellery; plus thrifted necklace and gloves.

 Lipstick is MAC's Ruby Woo.

I seem to be draping about a lot in these pics.
Honestly, when I put on a vintage suit, I can't help but go into 1930s starlet mode and pretend I'm Jean Harlow.
This suit has soul.  I can feel it.
So do the handbag twins.
Thanks for the inspiration Rough Vera.
Desiree xo

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