Sunday, 21 September 2014

A cool colour snap

Stains, tiny holes, and a frightening little rrrip as I reached behind to pull the zipper through the home stretch. Truly, pulling rear zippers and reaching for things are the biggest dangers when wearing fragile vintage pieces; I should have known better... But all these little flaws are the tangible tracks a life lived in this gorgeous maxi, which features an empire waist, a silky pink lining, and a flowing sheer shell with appliqued flowers. Probably once wore to a wedding or Sweet 16 party, I punked it up for day wear with my platform runners and diamond-encrusted meteorite pendant. For such a demure dress, she sure makes a racket with that silk-on-silk swishing.

Below is evidence that I actually wear the clothes I photograph in the garbage atelier, concrete stairwell, and parking garage. My friend Sharron, whom I've featured on my street style blog a couple of times, emailed me this photo she snapped on her phone on the sly as I was leaving the coffee shop. Thanks, Sharron. And maybe you also recognize my partner in style parkour adventures in the background. 

You can see from this photo how the dress billows so sweetly. Some clothes are made to move, others to photograph; this is definitely the former. I had so many compliments, probably a record - the positive energy swirling around these fluttering flowers is undeniable. I'm glad I finally took her for an outing.
thrifted vintage homemade maxi party dress
platform runners
carrying thrifted denim jacket
vintage sunglasses on my head
gifted toolbox hand bag from O
meteorite diamond-encrusted pendant, vintage, gift
magic loupe made by O
spare kitty head from my journal

I realized on my way home that this is the last formal day of summer in this hemisphere (written Sat), which got me thinking about how when autumn hits people suddenly start wearing clothes the colour of detritus, decay, mould, and fungus. During dark months wouldn't it make sense to wear clothes that are bright and cheerful to counteract the negative suction power of dark coldness? Or maybe people can't stand colour in winter because it would be mean, like a taunt from sunnier days. In reality, long ago we probably dressed in colours to match the seasons as camouflage so we wouldn't get knocked off by enemies or hungry beasts. Where I live now, that's not too much of a concern, but the hiding behaviour persists. I like the colours of decay too, but nothing beats the buoyancy of a full-blast colour snap.

I'm linking this outfit up to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style, her blog. (Whew, I almost forgot to activate the link.) It's the perfect garden party dress. I have pearls, white pointy shoes, and white gloves for this dress, but I like the sweet punk-ass version waaay better. Maybe I'll see you there. Thanks for stopping by Bag and a Beret, my sweets! 

Thursday, 18 September 2014

Shopping for olives

A lemon-ice-cream sparkly vintage coat featuring zigzags, bracelet-length sleeves, and soft yellow silky lining. The gold threads are from the lurex family, I believe. Dreamy. The buttons are for show (the missing one is in my pocket); the coat fastens with four small snaps at the top so that the front flaps open once in a while after you've gathered speed. 

Clearly the coat was the star of my outfit today, although my stretchy tuxedo pants and granny shoes held their own fairly well, as did my toolbox hand bag. I felt like I was in a '60s film in the role of a plucky, restless housewife going shopping for olives and gherkins and new white evening gloves, which added peek-a-boo ability and buoyancy to my step under a dark sky. I borrowed the inflated turnip head from a sketch I posted previously, here

This coat illustrates how easy it is to sproing up a basic T-shirt, stretchy pants, and brown orthopedic-looking shoes. But then you already know how these things work. 

I'm waiting to see the results of the Scotland independence voting which closed today. The situation brings back memories of independence referenda in the Province of Quebec. 

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

A fauvist pas is no mistake

I'm so relieved I got the memo: only wacky-ass colour allowed after Labour Day. Finally, a fashion rule I can live with - the fauvist pas is the height of seasonal norm-corny. 
I'm glad my camera has stop motion, otherwise I would remain a big blur. Are you arrested by my glow-in-the-dark, freeze-you-in-your-tracks gaze? And no look is complete without a custom teacup carrier, which I made a couple of years ago.

oversized cotton palazzo pants
vintage jersey top with pearl-ish buttons
magic loupe
thrifted D&G shoes
vintage sunglasses
teacup carrier I made from a matryoshka

This morning I specially put on these palazzo pants, which are often mistaken for a skirt, for the Share-in-Style: Skirt or Pants linkup hosted by Sacramento at Mis Papelicos and co-hosted by Susan of Une femme d'un certain âgeI'm wearing them backwards, but, really, there's so much fabric and they're already hip-slung large with a slouchy crotch at mid-thigh, who's to know? I liked the pattern of the back-facing waistband better at the front.

And a big THANK YOU! to the Invisible Woman for featuring me in one of her posts alongside some other very cool people. You can see it here

Have any of you seen the Dress Normal ads for Gap? I'm retching. Jean of Dross into Gold first alerted me to them and probably there are conversations about it raging everywhere and I'm the last to know... Thank goodness everyone has their own definition of normal: this post reflects mine. And thank goodness I have the freedom to express my normal every single day, whether in a fauvist pas piece or a seven-piece navy suit. That's all I have to say about that. (not reeeally)

Saturday, 13 September 2014

Black and white does not mean grey

This look is muted and, although two-dimensional, a fairly accurate photographic representation of what I looked like today. There's no colour because there is no colour except for my squishy flesh, which, you can imagine, is pinkish. For what it's worth, I'm wearing my thrifted low-rise stretch tuxedo pants with two silky stripes down the outside seam, a thrifted graphic turtleneck, and my pointy-toed, sharp-heeled shoes, which are stretchy, like slippers, oh so comfortable. And my magic loupe from O, of course.

My eye is almost back to normal and I'm wearing contact lenses again, although I'll still wear glasses occasionally because: a) I like them, especially the ones with the nerdy snap-on magnetic sunglasses, and; b) I like peeking over the rim and seeing a fuzzy world when I'm in a noisy environment.

I suspect that the decibel level of the Earth has risen significantly in the past decade or so. Where once people walked silently down a sidewalk, now they talk or shout into an electronic device as they go. Ten people strolling past today carries the decibel weight of 20 people. It's maddening, I tell you!
I took my head from that sketch. I made it last winter when I was wearing my pastel nicotine faux-fur coat.

This is my weekend Hello! 

Sunday, 7 September 2014

Contrapuntal Woman

Don't mess with the '50s frock.
This dress is lovely but I'm not feeling it. Can you tell by my facial expression? I thought the hot pink tulle underskirt would help, or maybe the striped tights and striped shoes, but nope. I posted it before here and included a little video clip.
I'm linking this look up with Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style, yesh. I tell ya', her little parties are becoming big dealios - valet parking, catering... I saw a write-up in the Hollywood Reporter recently, with a very flattering shot of Patti on her roof, lip-synching a Miley Cyrus tune. :-)

Do I? Don't I? I've been asking myself for weeks whether I should post this little song/weirdness/video called Contrapuntal Woman. It was inspired by Helga and her partner G, a very cool couple that lives in New Zealand, whom I know through Helga's blog, Helga von Trollop.

Why Helga and G? Well, they have a great band (or two?), fantastic style, and more than a year ago Helga did a post about a punting outing she and G went on. I love the word punting; it's one of those funny words (when you have a juvenile sense of humour like I do) that sounds dangerously close to one of those ghastly words, but is perfectly legit, especially when you're in a punt.

The bar footage is from a favourite old-timey bar I sometimes walk past in a mixed-up neighbourhood of designer shops and safe injection sites. I regret that I didn't at least order a highball the morning I went in, even though I seldom drink.

I tried to make puppets that resemble Helga and G, although I made G's hair too short. Filming was difficult with a flashlight, camera, puppets, and a moving background to juggle at the same time. I didn't make this clip necessarily for you to like; I made it because I thought I'd have fun and learn something, and, guess what? I did. That's all. See you next time.

AND - after a couple more stops, the Freakish Yellow Skirt is coming home for a break. More on that later... Have a stellar week, everyone.

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