The Berber Weightlifting Champ

I honestly don’t know how some of these tribal ladies don’t collapse under the combined weight of all this fabric and jewellery. The cloak is a dead weight, and I am quite literally carrying a millstone around my neck in the form of a traditional necklace made from stone beads – amongst others. The weight is truly staggering.

I am wearing a number of Berber items that I bought when holidaying in Morocco nearly two years ago, although I am not wearing a technically correct traditional Berber ensemble. Research online was not definitive as there are so many tribal and modern influences to sift through – I became daunted and gave up. This is, after all, only a fanciful evocation of a Berber lady. In general, traditional costumes are made up of layers of coloured woven cloths; pounds and pounds of jewellery, many pieces dripping with silver coins; and henna tattoos. (I probably skimped on the kohl too.)

The 14th century Merenid Tombs, Fès, June 2011

The most spectacular piece is the cloak. This may look like a carpet, but the Berber merchant I bought it from in Chefchaouen told me that it was a traditional cloak, worn to ward of the desert night’s chill. I am uncertain of its fibre content (so taken with the jingling sequins, I forgot to ask!), but it is woven in subtly complicated stripes and shaggy sections that have been interwoven with silver sequins that are a little tarnished with age. The tarnish only adds to its charm. It is incredibly heavy however. Currently it sits across the bottom of my queen size bed and has become a comforting weight at night – in the winter months at least. It looks decorative though, and it is such a lovely souvenir of my holiday. I saw many of these cloaks used as rugs, some in my room in the Marrakesh riad I stayed in. 

A pile of rugs shown to me, with my favourite on topThe Chefchaouen Berber carpet seller modelling my antique cloak in his tiny store

Underneath the cloak I am wearing a vintage Berber kaftan that the seller threw in as a bonus. He let me choose from many that were hanging high on the walls in his shop. I also chose another free item – a traditional belt – that unfortunately you can’t see very well in these pictures. It’s pale green, embroidered in white and pink, and is glued onto a cardboard backing.

The kaftan is cream-coloured brocade woven with metallic silver thread – by the style I am guessing it dates back to the 60s or 70s. It’s quite scratchy to wear, and presumably it would have been worn with a cotton shift of some sort underneath. (As he recommended, I handwashed this in a gentle laundry detergent, and it washed up brighter. The belt I merely sponged, again at the seller’s advice.)

Most of the jewellery is from Morocco. The chunky necklace is made up from stone, glass and shell beads and is so heavy I could not contemplate wearing it for more than a few minutes. The long coloured beads are all made from glass – one of the necklaces is about 3m end-to-end. All of these pieces came from the souqs in Essaouira. The coin earrings I am wearing are made from replicas of Turkish coins, and were bought in a Melbourne jewellery boutique that specialises in ethnic jewellery from around the world (mostly Arabia and Asia). Although the necklace looks tribal, it was bought from an Australian jewellery chain store, Lovisa. 

I do not know the provenance of the hat. I actually purchased it for 50c from the Australian designer Karen Merkel’s garage sale a few years ago. I was undecided on its purchase as the chains were broken and tangled, and they said I could have it for 50c. “How can you lose?” asked my friend Sapphire, who accompanied me. True. I untangled the mess and managed to figure out its repair.

The slippers are tooled red leather, bought in Fez. I originally purchased two pairs, one in pumpkin yellow, and this red pair; I wore the yellow as house shoes, and they did wear out rather quickly, so I keep the red pair for special occasions only.

Shopping Notes

If you are planning to travel in Morocco, here are some shopping tips. Obviously you must bargain, and not appear too eager etc – that’s just common sense. I was rather chuffed when my Berber carpet seller opened his eyes wide at my opening gambit and ultimately complimented me on my bargaining skills: “You bargain like a Berber!” (You offer half their asking price to start with, and then go slowly up.)

I am not sure if he was merely flattering me, but for around €120 I bought the rug you see here and a vintage cloak, and had the kaftan, belt and a few bags of herbs and spices thrown in for good measure (most of which were confiscated by Quarantine at Melbourne airport). The textiles were very heavy though and did cost about $100 to FedEx home. (They arrived home the same day I did, and I believe the package had been opened for inspection by Customs.) I can’t imagine how much a rug like that would cost at home – probably up to $1000. The stone necklace was about $90, and five other necklaces for under $20.

The background image is of the 14th century Merenid Tombs overlooking Fès. 

View of Fez from the Merenid Tombs, June 2011The 14th century Merenid Tombs, Fès, June 2011

Music in My Ears

Well, well. So here is another abject lesson in following you heart when you fall in love … most especially important when you are shopping in a market on the other side of the world!

I fell for a pair of giant silver hoops suspended with little bells from a shop deep in the heart of the souq in the Djemaa el Fna in Marrakesh. They were very expensive, and informed that I would most likely find similar earrings in Essaouira for less, I held off purchasing them. What a mistake that was. There were none to be found there, and I passionately wished I had bought the earrings in Marrakesh.

Back home, yielding to the pangs of long-lost love, I became crafty. I tracked down some giant sterling silver hoops from a seller in Queensland, and then I found lots and lots of little sterling silver bells from other eBay sellers. By the time I added up the total, you betcha – they cost just a little less than the original pair in Marrakesh. Ka-ching-a-ring!

I don’t know what it is about bells that I like so much – I have another necklace that jingles with every step, and a vintage skirt that tinkles rather elusively (I caused much mystery in the office today when I wore it – it took time for people to track down the source of faint music). I’m reminded of that old nursery rhyme Ride a Cock-Horse to Banbury Cross, only I’ve written a new version for the occasion:

With hoops hanging with bells on her ears
She shall have music whatever she hears …

Life’s A Breeze

Fashion story from Australian marie claire. This comes close to my favourite shot out of the whole editorial.Ah, suffering in this relentless heatwave Melbourne is treating us to, I am fantasising about being on the Riviera right now, living the life in this fashion editorial.

I love Friedemann Hauss’ photoshoots – they are always so elegant, the women so soigné. There is a serene and effortless air about them. There is no frantic rush. Life is a breeze.

I wish I could feel a breeze right now.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention, I really love the minimal fashion too. Now sit back, scroll down and relax, ahhh. (Click on the images for bigger versions.)

Sydney’s Vintage Glitz & Sequinned Kitsch

Rawr :: Watts // Big Up // No flashI’m back from my little three and a half day jaunt to Sydney. I managed to do quite a bit of vintage browsing, although the only fashion purchase I made was a 1960s black and white crocheted raffia cloche that looks very 1920s on. (I have to tilt my chin to a severe angle to see out, so it makes me look like a snooty flapper.)

Pink & Polka-Dotted :: Watts // Big Up // No flashSome of the other delicious things I saw – but didn’t buy – included a 70s lilac blouse with enormous accordion-pleated sleeves (sweltering on), and a wonderful 1980s silk sequinned tiger tee. The latter was $300, and just too expensive for my budget, especially considering the large number of sequinned tops I already own. While I had been there last year, this trip I also discovered that the vintage boutique Grandma Takes a Trip has an upstairs – joy! It was full of gorgeously coloured treasures. I just need to find some more room in my own closet.

Pussycat Pleats :: Watts // Big Up // No flashPsychedelic Prints :: Watts // Big Up // No flash

Blue Lady of the Desert

When I was first planning my trip to Morocco early last year, I knew that the one place I had to visit was Chefchouen. I saw photos of this extraordinary town on Flickr and fell in love with it. The name Chefchouen actually means ‘look at the peaks’, but for me (and probably other visitors as well) it will be always synonymous with the celestial blue of its walls.

The town is small and uncrowded, and you’ll only meet the occasional donkey in the streets. It’s easy to explore, and difficult to get lost, so it makes a very pleasant introduction to Morocco (although I’d already had a day in Tangier the day before I arrived in Chefchouen). The owners of the shops are not at all intimidating and many of them even leave you alone to browse! 

On one of my wanderings I found a carpet shop that also sold vintage clothing, and saw this cloak hanging on display outside. It was a case of instant love. Of course I could not simply purchase this cloak – I had to listen to the entire carpet selling spiel – but in the end I actually purchased a carpet too. The carpet seller told me he was a Berber (see him on the Facebook page), and that particular rug was originally an old Berber cloak. He draped it around my shoulders, and it was so heavy I can’t imagine wearing it for long periods of time. Those Berbers had stamina! I knew that bargaining was necessary, and was delighted when the man’s eyes widened in respect and he told me I bargained like a true Berber.

Detail of the embroidery on the cloakThe Tuareg are known as the ‘blue men of the desert’The blue trousers are an exact match for the walls of the town, and I found them in another shop. The seller told me they were Tuareg trousers. They are actually extremely baggy at the top, narrowing just past the knees. There is some pretty galloon embroidery – narrow strips of braid that is sewn onto the fabric. In actual fact the trousers are quite unflattering; that’ll teach me to buy clothing without trying it on! I would have bought them anyway, just for the colour, but I declined to purchase the matching top as together they would be too much. Not too much for the Tuareg, the blue men of the desert, however, whom the seller informed me wore garments dyed such blues. The embroidered blouse I am wearing is actually from Zara in Portugal; it was similar to some of the blouses worn with traditional Portuguese dress.

Blue jewels (only the bead necklace is from Morocco, from the souqs of Essaouira)

I am wearing jewellery from a mixture of sources: only the blue glass bead necklace was bought in Morocco, from the souq in Essaouira. The earrings, featuring copies of Turkish coins, and the blue 1920s style ring were both from a Melbourne jewellery boutique, and the metal necklace I discovered in a Salvos thrift store.

Although the red tooled leather slippers are traditional Moroccan wear – these were bought in Fez – the velvet cap is not at all; I just thought it looked cute. It’s not quite a traditional Moroccan costume, but it is inspired by this most beautiful city of Morocco, Chefchouen. 

A MINI CHEFCHOUEN TRAVEL GALLERY

Looking down on ChefchaouenSacks of powdered dye are everywhereStairway to heavenChildren playing