(Half) Hand in Glove

Gloves by Leibo Hate, top by Anthropologie, vintage hat

Last Sunday after I finished my marketing, I wandered down a sidestreet by the Queen Victoria market, peering into the windows of the new little designer shops that have sprung up there in the last year or so. There was a new one that sold vintage. I proposed to while away a little time before I wandered home.

There was a lovely navy maxi-dress in the best Margo Leadbetter style (played by Penelope Keith in The Good Life) all covered over with stars; regretfully it was on hold for someone else. I moved on. On a shelf I spied a little pair of – half-gloves? I made an beeline for them and tried them on in delight. I had never seen such a charming concoction and was instantly enchanted. I hardly need add that I elected to purchase them, do I?

Carrie Bradshaw wearing half gloves in ‘Sex & the City’Later on I discovered that they were made famous long ago by Carrie Bradshaw. They must have slipped my notice at the time; after all, they are such dainty little things it would be easy. I then searched online and apart from an expensive Italian website, found them available to purchase on eBay. Though I much prefer my buff-coloured pair (subtle to the point of invisibility) to the rather crudely bright hues in the latter marketplace.

What’s particularly appealing about them is the fact that while gloves today are no longer part of every woman’s daily wardrobe, and are worn chiefly in winter for the express purpose of keeping one’s hands warm, these half-gloves are deliciously impractical. That’s the beauty of fashion. 

Poppies All in a Row

Cheering Up the Dreary Day :: Tejas // Cano Cafenol // No flash

Today I am working on some children’s book illustrations in watercolour. Since I knew I’d be bending over and didn’t want to have my hair trailing in the paint, or getting in my eyes, I thought I’d better pin it back. But a ponytail is so boring. Besides it puts a kink in my hair when it’s damp (I never bother fully drying it after washing). So I thought a headband. Something fun to cheer up the dreary day: a row of coral pink poppies.

(Yes I know I look pensive rather than cheerful; but this out-of-focus shot was much more interesting than the smiling portrait. It’s hard to self-take with the Hipstamatic, but I suppose a front-facing camera goes against their manifesto.) 

What I Actually Wore #0055

Serial #: 0055
Date: 25/12/2010
Weather: 26°
Time Allowed: 30 mins

I very rarely specifically go shopping for something to wear on Christmas day, but it’s equally rare that I would not have some new vintage item in my wardrobe that I have not shown off to anyone yet.

This year it was a purple tissue-thin taffeta silk frock I’d bought in a vintage boutique. I have no idea which era it is from, and suspect it might have been a custom-made bridesmaid’s dress, since the cut is quite conservative. The vivid lilac and mauve shot silk lifts it out of the ordinary though.

The plunging v-neckline needed something, and I chose a purple necklace of clustered flowers that is always startling. At the beginning of the day I stacked a pair of onyx bangles on one wrist, but they crashed together so ominously I was terrified they would smash, so I swapped one bangle to my left hand. (Normally I would never wear a bangle and a watch on the same wrist – although why I’m wearing a watch on Christmas day, I can’t fathom – maybe because I have to train it there.) A vintage 50s silk summer coat and dark green satin pumps completed my Christmas outfit.

Items:

Dress: vintage, from Fat Helen’s
Coat: vintage 50s
Necklace: Diva
Earrings: hand made by me
Bangles: Vietnamese souvenir
Watch: Kenneth Cole
Shoes: Sportsgirl

The Queen of Hearts

The Queen of Hearts she made some tarts all on a summer's day;
The Knave of Hearts he stole the tarts and took them clean away.
The King of Hearts called for the tarts and beat the Knave
full sore
The Knave of Hearts brought back the tarts and vowed
he'd steal no more.

This little poem was popularised by Lewis Carroll in 1865 when he inserted it in Alice in Wonderland. However, its origins go back much further to 1782, to a poem anonymously published in The European Magazine. There were three other stanzas, which have since fallen into obscurity: The King of Spades, The King of Clubs, and The Diamond King, describing the romantic entanglements of all three suits. Flirting, marital discord and seduction are the themes. [Wikipedia]

What I find most fascinating about this history is that once upon a time I myself wrote a poem titled The Queen of Tarts – The Tale of How the Deck Was Born, taking a very similar theme. The Queen of Hearts is a real flirt, dating all the Kings and Knaves one after another, thus alienating (not surprisingly) all the other Queens. I stuffed the poem with as many puns as I could think of. Here are some of my favourite lines:

… Of these, the Queen of Spades was most vocal
(She never frequented the local,
Nor ever missed a curfew –
She was a pattern-card of virtue.)
“You’re just jealous coz he thought I was cuter!”
The Queen of Hearts referred to her latest suitor.
The Queen of Spades’ mood grew black,
(She couldn’t take the flack,
And was put to the blush –
A brightly royal flush!)
She drew the Knave of Clubs to her side,
“He at least agrees with me!” she cried.
“Oh – that jackanapes,
It’s only sour grapes,”
Yawned the Queen of Tarts,
Nibbling on some cherry hearts …

So’s anyone been nibbling on some hearts today? I only wolfed down an indescribably delicious strawberry tart myself, but I hope you’ve had a sweet Valentine’s Day. Kisses!

Dress by Maeve for Anthropologie, vintage cloak and tiara; strawberry tart from French Fantasies
Backdrop, Palácio Nacional de Sintra

The Silk Disaster

On Chinese New Year, I wore my bright red silk dress on an outing to the gallery with an old friend. That night, I decided to make crepes for supper. Foolishly, I kept the dress on, and did not even don an apron. I must have been daydreaming, and you can guess what happened …

I poured the first ladle of batter into the pan, and naturally the oil splashed outwards and spattered all over my dress. Well, I can tell you I whipped that dress off pretty quickly, and ran to the bathroom in my underwear!

I put the soiled dress in the sink to soak, hand-washed it gently and hung it out to dry. The next day I made the sad discovery that the oil stains clung on. (Duh, oil and water don’t mix.) I did what I should have done immediately: desperately leafed through my handy pocket reference guide to removing stains.

… I whipped that dress off pretty quickly, and ran to the bathroom in my underwear!

Oil and grease stains were the worst of all to clean, I read, but it was possible to remove them by shaking talcum powder on the spots, placing paper towel over the soiled area, and gently applying the iron on a low heat setting. Exchanging clean paper as needed, the operation should be repeated until the powder has soaked up the oil. The garment should then be washed in warm, soapy water (not normally recommended for silk fabric).

But was it too late for my dress?

Hallelujah, it was not! Miraculously, the dress came good, and even survived a warm wash.

eHow has a few other suggestions in the unhappy event of your own disaster.