The festive season hath ended, and now I’m packing up all my capelets ready to move to France for six months. I’ll be studying in Lyon for a semester, drinking lots of red wine and speaking French in a little high-pitched voice. Visa troubles aside, I’m actually ludicrously excited. I will miss Sydney for all the brunching, and my people. But France!
I’ll miss my frocks too. I’m waging war on minimalism as I pack frivolous thing after frivolous thing, but ugh choices! How can I go six months without my red tartan hooded cape coat? I can’t, obviously. My third cousin Vicky is family legend for her declaration that she could travel with “nothing but two pairs of trousers and seven jackets”. I think I inherited some of her ridiculousness.
In my final days here, I’m making use of my wardrobe while I still can. So voila, my frock of the day. It’s a 50s day dress I bought for a pittance in Amsterdam. It’s so beautiful, and fits me so perfectly I could hardly believe it. Of course I wore a capelet too, because I’m never without capelet.
50s frock Amsterdam | capelet DIY
Soon there will be French fashions, ooh la la. A toute à l’heure !
I don’t even need to tell you how I feel about nautica. Earlier in the year I posed delicately next to some ships in a Bettie Page Captain frock, and it was wonderful. Yesterday I made it back to maritime Coff’s Harbour, and couldn’t fight the urge to dress thematically once more. So now there are more nautical photos. You’re welcome.
This is a lolita-style nautical number: sort of doll-like and sort of adorable. The back of the dress is ACTUALLY to die for, I can’t even take it. I had the good fortune of finding it in Gallery Serpentine, Sydney’s go-to goth boutique which happens to dabble in lolita and rockabilly. Just look at it, ugh.
Never, ever too much nautical. Back with more soon, I daresay.
I’m en route to London this very moment, all camped out at Abu Dhabi airport feeling plane-weary after fifteen hours, with the excrutiating promise of eight more before Heathrow. I think I’ve eaten dinner three or four times in the last twelve hours. The grey speckled carpet is strange and entrancing.
There will be blogging when I finally do make it to Europe, but I actually have quite the backlog of delectable photos, plus a spare half hour before I’m ushered back into my airborne prison, so here are some fashion moments from my Sydney life. This, before the onslaught of cobblestones and sixteenth century buildings.
Frock Anthropologie | Cardigan Dangerfield | Belt from a 60s frock | 50s bag King St, Newtown
Another day, another frock – I swear the angry face was accidental:
50s frock Grandma Takes a Trip | Belt Enmore Rd, Enmore
Having High Tea with Darcy Society:
50s frock Coco Repose | Capelet Gumboots | Heels Macy’s
And here I was sixteen hours ago at the airport, prepped for departure:
Speak soon, vintage people and friends.
Just a quick, slightly ridiculous outfit post, featuring Pippy Longstocking-style plaits. This ensemble was for a lovely lazy Sunday evening outing to Newtown. The Western-ish top gave me Calamity Jane jitters, and oh the plaits made me a little bit silly too. I even managed a spot of swing dancing in my sort-of-twirly skirt, as one should.
Top Valleygirl | Skirt Dangerfield | Cardigan Louche, London | Belt Dangerfield
A bientôt, amis.
I’ve been a-shimmying my Tuesday nights away in burlesque classes this past month. I think I’m addicted to saucy fan-shooshing. Never have I pouted more intensely.
’tis all courtesy of Love Rouge, a loverly lingerie boutique in Darlinghurst that, apart from stocking all manner of lacy delights, also dabbles in the art of burlesque. Although Love Rouge is staffed by platinum blonde burlesque extraordinaire Miss Anna Felactic, our classes have been led by the divine Miss Foxtrot India, and Miss Kelly Ann Doll. Under their guidance, I’ve learnt such important skills as “framing the leg”, and caressing my own arm like I’m its desperate lover.
Of course the most important part of all of this is the FASHION, brought to you this week by a series of ridiculous poses.
Frock Anthropologie | Capelet of my own making | Heels Wittner
It seems my life has been nothing but brunches as of late: each brunch more extravagant than the last. Such is the life of an Arts student on vacation. On a scale of one to Marie Antoinette, the vintage brunching I did with my friend Laurel this week scored pretty high in the way of extravagance. When your date wears white gloves and stops to buy a punch bowl in a charity shop, one anticipates a most glamorous afternoon.
Before we ravaged the second-hand stores in Newtown, Laurel and I feasted at Silverbean café down Enmore Rd, where we enjoyed vintage Western décor, and a Vegetarian-friendly menu.
Laurel and her vegan breakfast
Me and my vegetarian breakfast feast – poached eggs!
We proceeded to dart in and out of the curious stores along Enmore Rd, picking up enough treasures that it soon became physically impossible to cart them about (there was an incident involving the punch set and the footpath). In Retro a-Go Go, we stopped for outfit shots amid the rummaging:
Laurel in her fabulous Egyptian novelty print 50s frock – sigh!
Me, REALLY getting into a brown colour palette
1960s dress Portland | 1940s cardigan The Attic, Las Vegas | Second-hand brooch Antiques Market, St John’s Church | 1940s necklace Camden Passage Markets, London | Heels Macy’s | Hair flowers Sportsgirl
I took another illustrious sun-drenched stroll through Pyrmont today, stopping off for breakfast and eating muffins in the sun. It was all rather extravagant. This is what I wore:
1950s frock Camden Passage, London | 1940s cardigan The Attic, Las Vegas | 1950s brooch Gift | Belt Target | Heels Macy’s | 1950s bag The Way We Wear 2012