See Miss C in Selvedge

I have a new story in the May/June issue of Selvedge on the Portuguese designer Teresa Martins.

The magazine focuses on "botanicals" for early spring, and, on the contributor's page, I reminisce about my favourite flower, the wild lupin that grows on Prince Edward Island.

I've included my contributor's photo here, and you can see it's a textile-focused image.  The scarf is by Pero, from my friends at Selvedge; the smock, made from Liberty of London peacock print, is by Nadinoo; and the silver bracelets are gifts from dear Nepali friends.

The Plaiddums Family at the Met Ball

 It wasn't Wednesday, so Christina Ricci ditched her goth-girl black for some glorious plaid (Vivienne Westwood tartan) at the Costume Institute ball last night.







And Sarah Jessica Parker revealed her Louis Vuitton tartan boots that complement her lacy knickers and outrageously embellished Philip Treacy mohawk.

These were two of my favourite looks that incorporated not only the spirit, but the fabrics of punk.

Never Mind the Bollocks; Here's the Met Ball!

So the Sex Pistols used a comma instead of a semi colon there; permit me a bit of prim with my punk.

I am getting ready to watch the arrivals to the Met Ball (or the Costume Institute ball) on MetMedia here. And one eye is on my 7-year-old son, who needs this computer to finish a PowerPoint on Narwal whales for tomorrow.  Oh dear.  At least they have a spiky horn, which makes them the original punk whales.

A little research turned up the above photo from the Met exhibit, which, everyone will know, features the safety-pin that a youthfully ripe Elizabeth Hurley made famous.  But is it punk?  I'm not sure that a safety pin (or a dozen) immediately marks a garment as such. 

Ahh; I hear the crowd and hosts Hilary Rhoda and Billy Norwich; do excuse me while I'm off to the Ball.

God Save the Preen: Dressing for the Met Ball

I've been reading with bemusement about frustrated fashionable ladies (along with a fashion writer or two) who cannot fathom how to dress for tomorrow's Costume Institute Ball at the Met: Punk: Chaos to Couture.

In a NYT article linked above, Cameron Silver, owner of the LA-based vintage shop Decades, said: “Not that many women want to look like Nancy Spungen.”

For the record, Nancy Spungen had her sartorial limits too.  In a scene from the film Sid and Nancy, she shoves on Sid's mother's clothes and storms out of the house after a violent confrontation.  When she sees her image reflected in a window, she gazes upon herself in horror and shrieks, "AGGHH!!  Siiid!  I look like F*$#^@% Stevie Nicks in hippie clothes!"

But back to the Met.  If I were going, I'd wear the Alexander McQueen confection above.  I'd ask Philip Treacy to make me a headpiece, perhaps something resembling a crown fashioned from wire and royal blue silk, which I'd wear atop my bird's-nest-inspired topknot. Easy peasy, right?

And just a note about the title of this post: probably all my gentle readers know that it refers to the 1977 song "God Save the Queen," screeched by the Sex Pistols during the year of Queen Elizabeth's silver jubilee.

Maybe my title's a tad irreverent, but someone's gotta celebrate the "pun" in "punk."

See you after the ball.

Goddess Dressing

When I moved to the States in 1990, Mr. C (who was then just Mr.) told me about the J Crew catalogue, which was a hit with his New York-y set on the east coast. I remember being quite underwhelmed by the presentation of the catalogue, which didn't feature photos of models in clothing, just rather uninspired pictures of individual garments.

Nevertheless, I bought three items: a flax linen pencil skirt (with a curious elastic waist?  Hello 1990.); a matching tailored blazer; and a flax linen goddess dress--an almost-floor length sleeveless wrap dress with a deep V and looong ties that could wrap forever for a Greek goddess effect.

I wore the dress a couple of times and then tucked it away for, oh 21 years.

This morning I was rummaging around in my closet and found it (along with the dress I wore on my first date with Mr.[not-yet-C]) and felt it might be perfect for this humid day.  So goddess dress it is. And very sparkly flat sandals.  And hair up. Am focusing on floating too (I know not how a goddess goes.).

Other favourite goddess dresses are anything from the early collections of Romeo Gigli, whose clothes are featured throughout this post.