MISS CAVENDISH

Best in Shoe

2012-02-15T19:32:00.000-08:00

This year at the Westnminster Kennel Club Show 2012,

six new breeds were entered in the competition,

including the Norwegian Lundehund

and the Cesky Terrier.

Dolce and Gabbana is following in those footsteps (paw-steps?) as it has entered a new type of shoe in the informal-yet-hotly contested design competition to make the most memorable spring/summer footwear.

Combining heritage scarf prints, a platform wedge heel, a certain astronaut-boot sensibility, and a scarf wrap-and-knot, this unusual piece of footwear might be best known as a scarfoe (pronounced scarfoo).

But if I really want to think of the connection between shoes and the Westminster Show (as I have been known to do), this year I will simply reflect on darling Malachy, with those soulful eyes that charmed me, as well as the judge, Cindy Vogels, to win Best in Show.

I might not wear the scarfoes, but make me a pair of Malachy-inspired fuzzy slippers, and they're on!

Governness Chic, Redux

2012-02-15T12:23:00.000-08:00

Just finished (teaching) Jane Eyre, using the edition below.

Wish I had this dress by L'Wren Scott

--a perfect example of postmodern governess chic--

to wear while contemplating the text.

Adele and Kate's Dress

2012-02-14T09:42:00.000-08:00

When I watched the Grammys the other night,

Adele's dotty dress and overall look . . .

reminded me of Kate Winslet, in this dress:

but with this hair:

Oddly enough, I cannot find an image of Kate in a proper bouffant.

There's Cheryl Cole,

Drew Barrymore,

Kylie Minogue, etc.

But I feel that Kate should have one, somewhere. Over to you, gentle readers . . .

P.S.: I prefer Adele's dress; never did agree with the fuss people were making over the Stella worn by Kate.

Farewell, Whitney Elizabeth Houston

2012-02-13T15:27:00.000-08:00

When did you first hear of Whitney Houston? When she starred in The Bodyguard? When she put out her first album? When she modelled for Seventeen magazine?

My first memory is of her photos in Seventeen and I recall being surprised when I read that she was going to release an album. I guess that, way back in my teenage years, I thought that people were locked into their careers: once a model, only a model.

But I was enlightened (and chastened, of course) as soon as I heard Whitney's voice: it ranged from strong alto to confident soprano, and she could soar between the two without adding (that distracting) melisma, so pure and true was her sound.

Whitney's first album cover in 1985 reminded me of a shot she might have taken for Seventeen, yet it was more sophisticated than her previously girlish photos:

First album cover, 25th anniversary edition

When she released her 2009 album, largely considered a "comeback," I noted how carefully its cover image echoed that first album, perhaps in an attempt to reintroduce the singer or to play on that earlier innocence. Was this image again reaching for sophistication--something Whitney definitely once had, having misplaced it along the way?

Last night I learned that Whitney's middle name is Elizabeth. Just knowing that detail made her less of a brand for me, less WhitneyHouston and more Whitney Elizabeth.

And although I loved WhitneyHouston's voice, I will think often of Whitney Elizabeth, the little girl from Newark, New Jersey, who loved to sing.

Is Mr. Gurung the Designer to Watch? Prabal-y!

2012-02-11T13:08:00.000-08:00

UPDATED below with photo . . .

This afternoon I watched Prabal Gurung's Fall 2012 fashion show via live stream. One of my former students was photographing the event, and it was terrific to see him in action.

Gurung's show was a lovely display of living ombre: first the designer sent out models with the darkest hair, wearing black, then with brown hair wearing blues, and then gold-to platinum blondes wearing copper, gold, and white.

His final parade brought out all the models, which showed off the beautifully graduated tones of the clothes and hair.

The middle section of ombre

My favorites: a black caped trouser suit that opened the show (and how I love the Philip Treacy for Prabal Gurung hat):

all of the light dresses (some of which had sparkly faux cut-outs at the waist) worn with gold Nicholas Kirkwood shoes:

The shoes sit on a sparkly platform

and this dark dress, with Kirkwoods in black:

My favorite audience member: the stunning Elettra Wiedemann,

whose natural beauty shone in her decidedly individual ensemble: a skinny white blazer over what I believe were these pants:

And here's the lovely photographic evidence:

New Selvedge Article: Miss C on the "New Demure"

2012-01-31T10:46:00.000-08:00

I was delighted to write a piece called "Thoroughly Modern Modesty: The Allure of the New Demure," for Selvedge, the lovely London magazine.

And in a complete contradiction, I am immodest enough to post a peek of the issue here.

The paper magazines have not yet reached my book shop, so I've decided to subscribe online, and the images come from that edition (Jan/Feb, issue 44).

Many thanks to my two wonderful sources for this article, American scholar and poet Dr. Ann Hostetler, as well as London stylist and delightful blogger Kate Battrick, who responded so quickly and who offered such useful information!

Gentlemen Collars: Detachable Chic

2012-01-28T12:41:00.000-08:00

At boarding school I wore a collared white shirt and tie every single day, except on Saturdays. Perhaps that's why I have avoided collared shirts for a couple of decades.

I'm wearing collars again, but I flatten and spread them when I wear them on a shirt.

However, I'm feeling the pull of collars with crewneck sweaters, a look that's both governness chic and crisply current (see shoe designer Tabitha Simmons, right).

The trick is, I think, to wear a crewneck with a bold or somewhat askew design on it (see Simmons again).

For instance, two collars I really like are this grey sequined one, by Karl Lagerfeld for Net-a Porter:

and this hammered-brass collar choker by the very talented Young Frankk on Etsy*:

I'd wear them with, say, this heart crewneck by J Crew:

and in another colourway:

or, for spring, this commes des garcons collaboration with J Crew:

I prefer a crewneck, because I think that part of the collars' buttoned-up charm lies in their prim placement--no skin, please (sorry Net-a-Porter stylists, below):

But a simple black crewneck is always right, too, especially when Louis Vuitton pairs it with a blood-red sequined skirt:

*Young Frankk was first brought to my attention by the lovely gemmifer.

The Tail of a Dress: Nadia Wilcock's Glamourous Union Jack Gown

2012-01-27T14:23:00.000-08:00

Over our December Break, Mr. C and I spent an afternoon on the edge of the East Village, thisclose to the Williamsburg Bridge.

There I found some delightful English shops (who knew?), including one that imported tins of English food (lots of Cadbury in the window) and a terrific boutique that offered only English designers.

Called Any Old Iron, a riff on both King Arthur's sword (see the Anthony Burgess novel of the same title) as well as Harry Champion's version of the British music hall song, this shop deals with the kind of iron that accompanies a board and wrinkly garment.

But I wasn't on a browsing lark; what brought me into the shop (a few times, in fact) was Nadia Wilcock's Union Jack dress for Reign that was displayed in the window.

Irresistible. From Any Old Iron's Flickr via Twitter

There were two in the shop, one on the rail with smaller flags and one with larger Union Jacks, above, which I spied from outside. The fabric had a thin but somewhat canvas-sy feel; the mood, historic, as the traditionally stark whites of the flag were more of a tea-dyed colour.

The fabric of this dress was buried in dirt to give it its earthy, medieval feel.

It looked like something Queen Guinevere could have worn if she wanted to grab that sword herself from the stone, or better yet, if she wanted to start a rock band.

The piece de resistance for me was the train. The train!! It added romance and swish to a gown already pulsing with character.

I see that both dresses were featured in Any Old Iron's 10-minute style challenge, with videos posted on Facebook.

Here are two stills from one:

Stills from Any Old Iron's Facebook page

And a still from the other:

Still from Any Old Iron's Facebook Page

My own style is more classic, more Hitchcock heroine than that of these two 10-minute-style challengers, but I think that the dress and I would make a good pair because of that juxtaposition.

I hadn't heard of Nadia Wilcock before visiting the shop, but have learned that she is a 2008 graduate of Northampton University and she showed her designs at London's Graduate Fashion Week. Her show was inspired by tartans with a punk feel, kind of an updated Westwood aesthetic (video and images below):

Watch for the fit-like-a-glove high-waisted tartan pants. The Union Jack gown is the finale in this small, smart collection.

Did I try on the dress? I was certainly in the shop enough times.

Well, no.

I think it's my own Perfectionist quirk here--did you read the recent NYT article on Perfectionist home decorators/architects/creative directors (all men, by the way)? They were so committed to Perfection that they could not bear to outfit their homes with anything but the most Perfect, uncluttered furniture: no couch for one man, only chairs; no light fixture for another, only a bulb.

My Perfectionist version is: if there are only two dresses, what if they don't fit? So I tried on the Perfect Union Jack dress in my mind and loved it even more. There it fit Perfectly.

Model Lily Cole doesn't have this quirk, as she tried on one during January and brought it home to London. Would that I could fit in her suitcase.

Lily Cole, from Any Old Iron's Facebook page

I concede: if my tale were Perfect; it would end with me wearing the dress in triumph. But at least I have a couch. And light fixtures. They're just waiting for me to flag down that dress.

Miss Cavendish, Fashion Activist for J Crew

2012-01-24T09:54:00.000-08:00

I'm starting my own movement--Occupy Fifty-seventh Street.

If anyone happened upon my Twitter feed this morning, they'd see that I had entered fashion activism full-tilt. Here's the proper narrative:

I received an email from J Crew inviting me to gain 24-hour "private access" to its spring/summer collection in order to, well, pre-order. I thought I'd accept the invitation to see what would be in store for the warmer weather:

click images to enlarge

I filled in the box provided with my email address, and, on the following screen, my name.

That took me to this screen, below, which asked me to provide names and email addresses of up to three friends so they could be invited too. I wouldn't want my friends providing my contact information to businesses, so I left those boxes blank and pressed "Submit."

But as you can see below, J Crew would not let me proceed until I ponied up at least one friend's name and contact details. In other words, the invitation really wanted me to Submit, in more ways than one.

So I signed up my alter ego, Kate Cavendish, the journalist. This is the email that she received:

And to proceed, she was expected to sign up a friend as well, and could not proceed without, ahem, Submitting. (She signed up her new pal Privacy Please to see whether the process was identical. It was. Privacy Please's email address is in the red box below. Privacy also seems to have a Policy, just below the Submit button):

I also wrote an email to J Crew in which I communicated my disappointment that loyal customers were asked to, no, required to provide what could be construed as private information about at least one friend in order to look at clothing.

I am confident that J Crew can sell enough skirts without my selling out a friend.

Indeed, the thought Occupying my mind (see above cartoon) at the moment is that it is inappropriate for J Crew to hope or assume that, in the excited heat of receiving a J Crew invitation, its recipient will feverishly type in whatever information is requested, just so she can see and order clothes before anyone else.

Of course, maybe some friends would love to receive the invitation. But I'd rather play it safe and let them be in control of revealing their own information.

Would I be as annoyed if J Crew had stated up front, in the opening email, that the invitation was contingent on my inviting a friend? No, because that would not have been duplicitious. Insisting on that information halfway through the invitation acceptance is.

What do gentle readers think?

The fashion police: "I protest!"

A Lovely Maiyet Capelet

2012-01-23T10:15:00.000-08:00

When I was in boarding school, we dressed for dinner every night.

My favorite shoes were tall slingbacks, in the palest sky-blue leather possible. I felt like I was floating in a Watteau painting when I wore them.

This dress by Maiyet, in a dreamy, floaty, silky blue recalls those shoes. But whereas I conjured a Watteau for lift-off, this dress seems to have its own glorious feathers attached via capelet for flying ease.

Maiyet . . . Capelet . . . Eaglet . . . umm . . . Robin?

Half-Remembered Beach Photo: A Request

2012-01-13T10:45:00.000-08:00

Gentle readers, I would like to ask your assistance. I am trying to locate a photo that's etched in my mind (perhaps accurately, perhaps fuzzily, after all these years).

It is of a European female athlete, I believe, from the early 1980s, running on the beach.

The woman has long, flowing blonde hair, is wearing a bathing suit (I think), and has extraordinarily powerful legs.

The picture was iconic for its day (I'm pretty sure I saw it in Vogue or some similar magazine), but my searches are coming up empty.

Does anyone remember her name or the image? (It is not a Rachel Williams photo.)

Prada and Nike: Fleet-Footed Goddesses

2012-01-12T19:24:00.000-08:00

I've been contemplating fleet feet for the last few days, as I had an unanticipated adventure in shoe deconstruction with my new Nike Air Max runners.

To make a long story short, the left footbed (beneath the inner sole) contains an embedded plastic ring, into which one can insert a microchip for iPodding while running.

This princess quickly felt the pea (had no idea that my two-day-old shoe came with such a feature) and, after my initial crankiness, removed the offending ring with a butter knife, whittled down some irritating arch support, took some anti-inflammatories, and, happily, find myself mobile again.

I would call these "dove" grey.

Always looking for some irony, or, at least, a little coincidence, I remembered that I had seen a new Prada shoe ad for Spring 2012 that showed some hot feet:

These might need an anti-inflammatory too.

I realize that the above shoes are about hotrods and engine-revving, but they reminded me of Mercury, the winged messenger:

And his wings, in turn recalled Henry James' devastating novel The Wings of the Dove:

In the 1997 film version, Charlotte Rampling wears some of the most gorgeous Poirot-inspired clothes:

Tomorrow I shall decide whether my running shoes are propelled by flames or feathers.

Rochas' Creme de Menthe Heroine Dress

2012-01-11T18:19:00.000-08:00

This lovely dress by Rochas is inspired by, among other things, Hitchcock films.

I can see Tippi Hedren's sage-green suit in The Birds,

and Grace Kelly's suit in Rear Window,

but most of all, I can see the creme de menthe parfait that I would have as a child for Christmas dinner,

in the ballroom of the grand old Charlottetown Hotel.

Gothic Plumes

2012-01-05T15:55:00.000-08:00

I am rereading the first Gothic novel ever published, Horace Walpole's Castle of Otranto, which opens with an enormous black, plumed helmet (from a statue) being, shall we say, re-purposed.

The plumed helmet is never too far away from the novel's action, and the plumes often ruffle when they are annoyed with the characters' behaviour.

I thought of those plumes when I saw these curious loafers from Christian Louboutin, adorned with feathers.

Just as Walpole attempted to marry nature (realism) with imagination (the supernatural)--these shoes merge a conservative shoe (the loafer) with a bohemian accent (the feather).

If I were to wear these, I'd want the shoe to be either a little tougher or more elegant (a buttery-leather higher heel, perhaps), but the literary critic in me appreciates the overlap of genres.

Rustic Romp or Urban Rumble?

2011-12-28T18:10:00.000-08:00

The New York Moment is fabled, of course. But what about the New York Juxtaposition?

Yesterday, departing American Girl with my daughters in the pouring rain, we began to pick our way through the wet and the dark (at 3:00!) up 48th Street toward 8th Ave. As we passed a parking garage, a loud fight broke out, first of words, then of fists.

We shifted into reverse, me averting my eyes, until we saw a police officer sauntering toward the garage. When we heard no further commotion, we carried on, eventually reaching our destination.

Some hours before the rumble, when the day was light, we had walked past an Anthropologie store, where a curious candelabra in the vitrine caught my eye.

"Fabled" this moment may have been, if only because the candelabra depicted a few Aseop's Fable-y animals piling on top of each other for what Anthropologie calls a "rustic romp."

We kept moving forward, my daughters ignoring the pottery animals, but the unusual design stayed with me enough to look it up on line.

In this New York Juxtaposition, I'll take the Rustic Romp over the Urban Rumble, though I don't think I'd welcome such a frolic on my dinner table when our stomachs are, you know, rumbling.

Plaid to Know You

2011-12-26T15:31:00.000-08:00

Maybe it's in anticipation of "Auld Lang Syne," composed by Scotsman Robert Burns, but I've been checking out some plaid.

Today I tried on these cropped trousers at J Crew (had to make a pilgrimage to bricks-and-mortar to sort out my sizing) and have been happily imagining them with

a black turtleneck
(the obvious choice)

a faded jean shirt and gold loafers
(what I'd call a J Crew mix)

a breton shirt in black/cream or papaya/cream (like James Dean wore) topped with a black cardigan
(from my "mad, plaid, and dangerous-to-know" imagination)

J (in) Crew-dulous

2011-12-26T00:00:00.000-08:00

Well, that *is* an overwrought pun above.

But it does represent my ongoing confusion over J Crew sizes.

This week I brought a couple of J Crew pencil skirts (that I had purchased about three years ago) to the tailor to be taken in. I also ordered some new pencil skirts in what I thought was an appropriate, smaller size.

I was surprised, however, when the new, *smaller* skirts were about the same size as the ones I just schlepped to the tailor. Has vanity sizing taken another drop lately?

J Crew, I'm incredulous.

DSquared2 Does a Figure 8

2011-12-25T20:55:00.000-08:00

There is no snow on the east coast. If I'd waited till noon to go running today, I think I could even have worn shorts (if I'd increased my pace a bit).

But I really don't want to tie my running shoes this week; I'd much rather lace a pair of skates for an outdoor glide.

Fellow Canadians Dan and Dean Caten of DSquared2 may have come to the rescue with their curious skating shoes (one boot is amusingly called Skate Moss):

Yet these rubber-soled faux skates are to me the shoe equivalent of Wii sports: they invoke the activity, but noone's going to qualify for the Olympics by wearing them.

Still, this Canadian appreciates the sartorial attempt at a quadruple Axel as Dan and Dean Caten go Skaten.

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-25T20:23:00.001-08:00

Blue Roses

2011-12-17T09:48:00.000-08:00

The lush jewelry in this Prada resort ad reminds me of the "blue roses" from Tennessee Williams' Glass Menagerie.

But there's no need for a gentleman caller here, we're perfectly happy with our own, feminine collar, spread to perfection.

Appealing Shoes

2011-12-13T15:59:00.000-08:00

It's the oldest joke in the book,

but if I slipped on that Andy Warhol banana,

the white brogues couldn't have any more a-peel that they already do.

Alas, this brogue is for the gents, by Christian Louboutin.

Although the editorial directs gentle readers to CL's website,

the shoes weren't up the last five times I checked.

Treading Lightly?

2011-12-11T10:45:00.001-08:00

This weekend I dressed to take my daughter to a college basketball game (we like to support the womenz team!) and I noticed a gap in my wardrobe.

I'd put on a pair of cropped black cigarette pants and wasn't thrilled with my footwear choices: I like to balance a skinny pant leg silhouette with a substantial shoe and the one I had in mind was more weekday than weekend.

So I hopped on Gravity Pope's website, because it specializes in a kind of funky, weekend-y shoe, and engaged in research.

The first pair I considered was, much to my surprise, a clog in wolf's clothing:

Or yak's clothing, or a Wild Thing's clothing, if I get all self-referential. I'm not a clogger; wooden soles don't strike me as comfortable (never wore a pair of wooden-sole DKNY penny loafers I had in grad school), but there's something unaesthetically appealing about this motley shoe. It's by Bosabo.

The second pair was equally curious, but again, that's what I wanted:

Made by Acne, this tall brogue has enough interest in the heel to keep me amused and enough tradition in the toe to complement my cigs.

After all, my goal is not to tread lightly. Do gentle readers have any trusted clomp-about weekend shoes they love?

***BTW: the New Yorker cover above is from 1944! So current, except the cigarette would probably be represented as cigarette pants today . . .

Whole-Cloth Quilting

2011-12-11T05:45:00.000-08:00

The front

(Nani Iro for Kokka)

I'll be quilting around each flower.

The back

(Kaffe Fassett shot cotton in "Apricot")

An imperfect match, just the way I like it.

The binding

(Liberty of London "Tatum")

A quarter inch, all around.

Lemon Dressing

2011-12-10T14:29:00.001-08:00

Back in the early-to-mid 1990s, Cynthia Rowley made some dresses from a delightful lemon print.

I have one of them--a short shirtdress--tucked away in my closet, for as many years, and I think it will reemerge this summer.

When I think of Rowley, I therefore always think of lemons, so it was apt that the dress I admired in the recent Anthropologie catalogue turned out to be a "Citris" dress by Ms. Rowley herself.

This could be worn rightnow, and I would do so happily.

If I were staying within the Anthropological confines, I'd pair it with these curious boots,

and would dive into my jewel box for a brooch that looks like this one,

to pin on the waistband.

Not Rowley, but reminiscient in spirit.

Colour Wheel

2011-12-07T10:46:00.001-08:00

This necklace by Monique Pean reminds me of

crushed pastels,

or mini globes,

with a postmodern ice age looming in some corners,

like a dollop of frosting.

Wild Things: Boots, Scarves, Sweaters

2011-12-07T09:20:00.001-08:00

Yesterday my six-year-old son and I were both home with the flu.

We watched a lot of European soccer, a little American basketball, and Spike Jonze's Where the Wild Things Are.

I adored the color palette in the film, with the softest beiges, greys, and linens against the Australian beach.

If I were to join the Wild Things gang, I'd wear these Louboutin boots.

I'd pair them with one or more of these textured scarves from Barneys,

But at a cost of $550 for this one, below,

perhaps I should just buy my own yak and trot her around.

My son, if he'd like to join us, could wear one of these sweaters, also from Barneys:

Fortunately, we have moved away from purple Barneys and on to heathery, feathery, cable-knit inspired Wild Thing monsters.

A Miss C. Blunder chez C. Wonder

2011-12-05T16:37:00.001-08:00

I was intrigued when I first saw the ads for C. Wonder in the New York Times.

They reminded me a bit of ads for ABC Carpet and Home, possibly the most glorious home furnshings and fabric store across the pond from Liberty of London.

The initial "C" was initially encouraging, too, as I was in my ABC zone.

Now we're talking: ABC Carpet and Home

But then things started to turn: "C. Wonder" started to conjure up a knock-off of J Crew, which was, I think, itself a knock-off of J Press.

Next I saw the motor scooter, adorned with roses, kind of Liberty print meets Jack Wills. I was confused.

The scooter in Vogue

And then I learned that it was owned by Tinsley Mortimer's ex-husband.

Actually, it's not, and that is the "blunder" of my headline; it's owned by Tory Burch's ex-husband.

Ths shop itself, or shops, as they have popped up in affluent mall settings, seem to position themselves as an Anthropologie for preppies. From images I've seen (plan to visit a bricks-and-mortar shop over Christmas), there's a lot of shiny gold and orange among the products, perhaps an homage to Ms. Burch, and green. green, green on the walls and floors, perhaps to make one feel wealthy and youthful whilst shopping.

Kind of Gatsby-esque, but lower rent than West Egg.

Would Jay Gatsby gaze upon the green door longingly from his dock?

I'm not sure whether C. Wonder has a truly specific point of view, and would be happy to hear from gentle readers who have visited it. In any case, I'll report back in the new year.

S'Wonderful to think about going on vacation.

Joe Fresh: Intarsia Insider?

2011-12-04T10:15:00.001-08:00

I confess: some mornings when I wake at 6, put on my running clothes in a hurry before going downstairs to get my three children off to school, I just might be wearing some of my garments inside out. And when I return from my run and realize my style slip, I have a good laugh at myself.

Joe Fresh, the clothing line for the Canadian grocery store Loblaws, has recently taken this inside-out dressing to the check-out counter with its collection of Nordic sweaters.

The above three sweaters on the right are knit in what I'd call a traditional style, but the two on the left (and the red-and-white one displays this characteristic more clearly) look to me like the inside of the sweaters on the right.

(As a reference point, I'm thinking of the inside of my own intarsia black sheep sweater a la Princess Diana.) Brilliant knitter-readers are cordially invited to tell me the proper terminology for this inside-out stitch/look.

Imagine the inside of this sweater.

Joe Fresh's sweaters are a tad too "holiday festive" for this Canadian, but it I were to wear the red one on the left, I might try it inside out. On purpose.

Burberry Prorsum's Major Majorette Hat

2011-11-23T11:03:00.001-08:00

This hat by Burberry Prorsum conjures up a Scottish majorette.

I'd march over the moors,

twirling a baton made from a fallen branch,

keeping my sheep in an orderly parade.

Or I'd wear it with this:

in which case I would stay closer to home,

stalking the grand hallways of a castle,

enjoying the echo-y clip-clop of my heels.

Hats for Thanksgiving: The Treacy Trilby Saga

2011-11-22T05:15:00.001-08:00

If it's Thanksgiving week, it's time for my annual Treacy Trilbly post. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, gentle readers!

American Thanksgiving is a time for thanks and hats. Just go to your local elementary school this week and you’ll see children decked out in Pilgrim hats, playing with their fellow Indians in homemade headdresses.

I’ve always been a hat girl, growing up on Prince Edward Island, Canada, where the ocean breeze kept a chill in the air. There, my Scottish grandmother would bundle me in coarse tam o’shanters, made from scratchy undyed wool. During my university years in bilingual Ottawa, I graduated to French berets in jet noir; loden festooned with a raccoon’s tail (what was I thinking?); creamy cupcake pink.

On bitter days, and there were many, I’d pull the beret over my brow, slap on a pair of ear muffs, and ice-skate down the Rideau Canal toward my campus. I’d share the ice with various Members of Parliament (Parliament Hill was just beyond the university), their long winterized trench coats parachuting around them, their briefcases somehow not throwing them off balance. During her lunch break one senior MP would don a racing suit and make slow, steady strokes up and down the canal, stopping later at the stands selling deep-fried beaver tails, a Canadian winter delicacy.

I wore berets throughout my undergraduate and graduate education, from Ottawa to the United States. They were functional, fit my large-ish head, and, I liked to think, marked me as “other” in my new home: a beret was a subtle symbol of Canadian pride.

But this steady relationship was rattled when I went to New York City to visit my husband’s family one Christmas. After visiting the requisite art galleries, I always ducked into my favorite store, Bergdorf Goodman, to check out some living art—the impeccably dressed patrons who glided through the corridors—and, of course, the fantastic displays of merchandise. Getting somewhat lost among the mirrored walls on the accessories level, I took a turn and found myself gazing at a hat: a Philip Treacy design. To be exact, an asymmetrical trilby, with navy cotton exterior, pewter satin lining, silver unicorn logo on the brand, provenance England. I was smitten.

For a Philip Treacy hat n’est pas un chapeau. Rather, it is an idea. Picture Treacy’s former muse Isabella Blow wearing a large orange acrylic disk that overwhelms her face, a slender wedge of pie extracted for her mouth and nose, or a model wearing a sculpture—a representation of a gently askew tophat spelling out h-a-t in lissome, sky-scraping letters. But this Irish-born, London-bred milliner known as the mad Hatter for his confections also makes wearable fantasies; hence the—no, my—assymetrical trilby.

Reader, I bought it. What else could I do? And I carried it down Fifth Avenue in its glistening silvery BG hatbox, feeling, perhaps for the first time, like a lady rather than the feminist scholar that I am. I, who critique Sister Carrie’s seduction by the snug little jackets in a Chicago department store, fell prey to the same siren song. And like Hortense, in another Dreiser novel, I wanted the hat so badly that my lack of cash didn’t stop me; whereas Hortense lures her boyfriend into purchasing her a coat with vague promises of affection, I used my BG charge card, with half-hearted assurances to myself that I’d pay if off in no time.

Geography, though, was the wild card I hadn’t counted on. Although my eccentric new navy asymmetrical trilby didn’t stand out on the fashionable streets of New York, it practically screamed “Outsider” when I returned to the Midwest farmland where I then lived and taught college. In the Midwest, where people pride themselves on four-post homes, three square meals a day, and unwavering moral values, asymmetry isn’t exactly a virtue. Rather, it makes people suspicious of you.

Usually I tend to court my outside status. I quite like to be contrary, and have ever since I was a teenager, when, yearning for the black velvet pants and pastel pink satin blouse that all my friends had, my chic grandmother returned from Montreal with forest green velvet trousers and a burgundy satin shirt. I wasn’t immediately sure about this combination, but quickly saw how one could work within a fashion concept while executing your own take on it. Couldn’t my asymmetrical trilby coexist with the John Deere farming caps and the German Baptist bonnets? After all, I’d worn a beret for many a year and the Midwest wasn’t exactly a bastion of French style.

But whereas my beret was looked on with grudging acceptance, my trilby was more a source of humor. Noone actually said anything directly, but locals would talk to my hat instead of my face, colleagues would be overly smiley when I’d stalk around campus. I felt self-conscious and soon found myself wearing my trilby only at home, happy to catch surprise glimpses of my reflection in the windows as I’d go about my evening. And eventually I put it away, nestled inside its hatbox, which sat at the bottom of my armoire, as I gradually forgot about it.

Until, that is, last November, when, in a burst of enthusiasm for cleaning out my closets via eBay, I rediscovered the box and its contents. I listed the hat on eBay, enjoyed a mild bidding war, and prepared to ship the trilby and box to its new owner, known to me only by her excellent feedback rating. But when I received the eBay-generated message containing the winner’s email and home address, a different kind of feedback quickly flashed in my mind. For the new owner of my Philip Treacy trilby was a Famous New York Personality of TV and Movies, she of the high cheekbones, sassy persona, and megawatt smile.

A celebrity bought my London-via-Bergdorf’s hat. A beautiful, edgy New York celebrity. We must be soul sisters! We could bond over our love of Philip Treacy hats! She would totally “get” me; we could chat over email like fashion insiders; we could meet, even, when I returned to New York on my twice-yearly pilgrimages! We’d go hat shopping together and she could show me how she sports my—our—no, her hat in the city and makes it her own.

Or I could mail her the hat with a note saying that I hope she wears it in the best of health. Which I did.

Like Chaucer sending his “littel book” out into the world, I sent my hat back to New York, where it is meant to be, with its citified asymmetrical attitude. Perhaps it will go dancing, to a movie premiere, to a little bistro. Perhaps one night it will even get tipsy (umm—symmetrical). And I am thankful that it is with its rightful owner, someone who can literally take the hat out of her closet, who can enjoy it out in public. And I can enjoy it too, from the distance of my imagination.

It’s not chilly enough here yet for my beret. But it will be soon.

Teacup Bedlingtons

2011-11-05T16:02:00.000-07:00

If you take this:

and blend it with this:

You will most likely come up with this:

Teacup Bedlington

from the Sculptural Art of High Heels show in London

(And yes, I know there's a third ingredient, but schnakes are not permitted on my blog.)

Governess Chic: Looking for Mr. Rochester

2011-11-03T05:33:00.000-07:00

These evenings I have been in full rehearsal swing, as we prepare to perform the musical The Secret Garden.

I play Mrs. Medlock, the housekeeper with an outrageous Yorkshire accent (yes; I think I'm throwing some PEI vowels in there too, as well as some Scottish brogue).

She's a stern woman, called a "spinster" actually (eek!), but fans the flames, I think, of a massive crush on her physician employer, who in turn harbours a crush on his brother's dead wife.

Not a good situation.

I was outfitted with my costume last night, and am delighted with it, as it exudes governess chic: it's a long black fitted column, which I'll cinch with a wide black belt. In front there's a white lace bib punctuated with a tiny, delicate black grosgrain ribbon.

Maybe it's a holdover from my boarding school days, maybe it's my love for Jane Eyre, maybe it's my wish to be a Parisian schoolgirl, but I do adore a chic-ly severe look: usually a navy dress or sweater with a strong white collar.

And even though Mrs. Medlock's secret crush does not acknowledge the pleasures of her secret garden, as her personality is all barbed wire and thorns, her dress, for this actress, blooms perfectly.

White Shoes; Red Flags

2011-10-29T19:20:00.000-07:00

What do Stella McCartney and Chanel Resort have in common?

They have both been conjuring a similar, curiously retro-ortho shoe shape.

When Nancy Shevell married Paul McCartney, Stella made her this pair of sandals to go with the dress:

I actually don't think that the sandals do go with the dress; whereas the dress evokes Wallis Simpson's vintage chic, the shoes evoke vintage dowdy.

This similar shape turned up as well at Chanel (but with a thong), far above, on Kristen McMenamy, and below:

To my mind, this shape reminds me of support socks and wavy Famolare soles:

What would I have shod Ms. Shevell in? A closed-toe simple pump. I feel a Stanley Kowalski-inspired guttural cry coming on: Stelllllaaaa!

Vakko Memories

2011-10-20T18:28:00.000-07:00

The lovely WendyB's recent post on peplums reminded me of my first leather jacket, made by Vakko.

It had a dropped waist with a peplum, an assymetrical hidden zip flap with a top snap, a stand-up collar, and outrageous shoulder pads. It was made from a textured dark brown leather with a hint of gray that evoked both Mad Max and elephants.

I bought it when I was an undergraduate, after swooning over it in a boutique, shuddering over the price tag, and returning a month later to find it reduced by 75 percent.

I wore it till I wore it out. Or as I said chez WendyB, till it ran out of pep.

Aside from the general wonderfulness of the jacket, there was a certain thrill in owning a Vakko piece in the mid 1980s. Vogue regularly sold that company a double-page ad up front, and Vakko delivered, with images of Elle in a Safari leather jacket, Cindy Crawford in a blue suede dress:

and in this swing coat:

There's an image of Elle for Vakko far above, in a jacket that's much more "mall" than my post-apocalyptic pachyderm number, but you can see the fun that Vakko had with shoulders and a peplum.

"Giant" Style

2011-10-16T20:41:00.000-07:00

For the last three nights I've watched the film Giant, which enthralled me.

My extended viewing was prompted by a James Dean exhibit I saw recently (more about that in a later post), which included his original Giant script.

In one scene, Carroll Baker (Luz Benedict II) wore a sparkling white evening gown (that she threatened to purchase from Neiman Marcus, and probably did) that set off her russet hair and character's rebellious personality (oh, such woe that she became a platinum blonde for the rest of her career!).

That's Baker, below, in the gown.

Serendipitously, a quick internet search showed me that this very gown had been up for auction only a few months ago.

It was in the collection of actress Debbie Reynolds (along with two other Giant pieces) and was purchased this past June.

I wonder what other important, but perhaps forgotten film gowns are looking for new, loving homes.

Royal Cushions at GOOP

2011-10-13T10:25:00.000-07:00

Why do I like this photo that was featured in GOOP's "See" newsletter?

The Union Jack chair is a plus, but it's the two royal cushions that amused me.

As I have an identical one of these in my living room, I almost feel as if my decorating choice has been "knighted," so to speak (with tongue firmly in cheek, by the way).

Now to strive for a Vivienne Westwood Union Jack cushion:

Or--sigh--a hauntingly romantic Westwood rug by The Rug Company:

That would amount to a knighthood PLUS a successful dragon-taming.

Or at least fooling one a la my favourite children's book for adults, The Paper Bag Princess:

By the way, I was experimenting with a new Blogger layout, but when I tried to return to my original template, I could only access this one. Sooo, a new look, by default?

The Beautiful and the Damned: Sartorial Musings

2011-10-10T14:28:00.000-07:00

Listening to the car radio this afternoon, I heard an interview with Siddhartha Deb, author of The Beautiful and the Damned: Life in the New India.

The book, a look at how Indians are striving for virtual or literal affluence, sounded compelling enough for me to search for it on the Internet upon return.

When I did, I was struck by the American market cover, which you see above. I thought it was strongly influenced by street-style bloggers; indeed, if you compare it to Scott Schuman's recent book, you'll see the similarities:

But whereas the cover of Schuman's book represents off-handed, yet studied "cool," the images within capture people wearing both extremely expensive as well as thrift-shop chic. Indeed, the guiding principle of The Sartorialist is personal style that's pleasing.

Deb's cover, on the other hand, depicts the "wannabe." The large, gaudy accessories may, to the wearer, code as "expensive," but they read as "cheap." I like Amit Chaudhuri's analysis of the cover here, in his glowing review of Deb's book for The Guardian.

While both women are clearly confronting the camera, one with a sidelong, almost disdainful gaze, one through her oversized sunnies, they own their images differently. Schuman's cover girl inspires sartorial emulation; Deb's woman undergoes a sort of critical immolation for the sake of the pages within.

The woman I want to learn more about? She's beautiful, and she's damned, I guess, but it's her process of getting dressed that undergirds the premise of Deb's book, one that sounds like a fascinating read.

A More Finnished Line, Yet Again from Marimekko

2011-10-03T17:25:00.000-07:00

To prove to myself that Marimekko can also make a flattering fit, here is a detail from the Uuli dress, with an equally pretty print, all watercoloury teals and pink clay.

Finnish Line: Fall Pattern and Colour from Marimekko

2011-10-02T10:09:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite colour combinations is a deep orchid, coupled with olive-brown.

Marimekko, a company I typically associate with more primary colours, has a very pretty interpretation of this colour scheme in its Unas dress, a detail of which is shown here.

The dress itself resembles an attractive duvet cover, hence the detail alone.

But perhaps with a belt, or some capable tailoring, the dress could be as attractive as its fabric.

Shakespeare in the Scarf

2011-09-30T17:03:00.000-07:00

Fair is fall and fall is fair.

Maybe the three "weird sisters" might have cackled that instead that if they had seen the pretty new fall scarves from Liberty of London.

I felt like putting on a scarf this morning, and any of these three (related, but definitely not "weird") scarves could have been enchanting. . .

Liberty of London and Lemon Drops

2011-09-30T06:38:00.000-07:00

It has been raining here, most uncourteously, all week, and there is no sunshine on the horizon.

This morning, while driving my children to school on yet another dark, wet morning, I thought of a favourite children's book, called The Lemon Drop Jar.

In this charming picture book, Great Aunt Emma offers her niece a lemon drop when the weather starts to turn. The lemon drop brings some welcome sunshine into their winter visit.

Perhaps this lemony travel wallet from Liberty of London, with pretty floral lining might do the same on this blustery, wet day.

Comme des Martians

2011-09-28T18:28:00.000-07:00

Why do I like this Comme des Garcons cardigan for J Crew?

Is it the plush hand of the beautifully coloured wool? No . . .

Is it the high v-neck, so high that the sweater could easily and chicly be worn on its own? Well, no . . .

It's the intense eyes peeking out from within the black heart.

They remind me of Marvin the Martian, who in turn reminds me of happy childhood weekend evenings watching Bugs Bunny on TV.

Edie Sedgwick in Color

2011-09-24T18:18:00.000-07:00

On page 300 of Edie: An American Biography, which I memorized in the mid 1980s, there is a tantalizing photo of Edie in Vogue magazine.

The caption gives only the date, March 15, 1966, and the picture credits list Gianni Penati as the photographer.

I can't tell you how many times I absorbed that black-and-white photo, imagining what the clothes would be like, assuming that they were black and white as well.

This summer I received the technicolour shock of my life when I saw this image:

It's that shoot, in colour.

At first I was dubious, thinking that it might be Sienna Miller in Factory Girl, but as I took a closer look, realized that it's Edie, in glorious colour.

And what colour! Ultra Violet bodysuit by Venus! (A dig at Warhol's superstar, perhaps?) Acid yellow stockings with crimson flowers by Givenchy! A deep-pink hairband (I had always thought that the band was Edie's own hair, wrapped).

I wonder whether there are any others shots from this shoot . . . I would love to see the top image, the one from the book, in colour.

Minnow: "The Romantics"' Biggest Fish

2011-09-19T00:00:00.000-07:00

This weekend I watched The Romantics, which has the loooooongest list of executive producers and producers that I have ever seen.

If I were an SNL writer, and thought that my audience would be familiar with such overly long credits, I'd make a short film that would never actually begin because the opening list of producing credits would eat up all the film time. I'm amused just thinking about it (insert wry smirk here).

Anyhow, the film was written and directed by Galt Niederhoffer, and based on her novel of the same name.

Once I realized this, I watched with more interest, because I knew the author's ex-husband a decade ago.

And then, after the 100-or-so producing credits, while the opening scene introduced a Hilfiger-esque Woody,

I remembered how the cast had cupcaked its way into a J Crew catalogue, and cried, "Cliche!"

But! I'm very glad that I did make it through the film, not because of Anna Paquin's perfect ponytail, or the artfully scubbed white-wood staircase risers,

certainly not because of Katie Holmes' valiant attempt to portray a successful "writah!" (her drafts of her maid of honor speech wouldn't make it past a first-year composition class, let alone a Paris Review article),

but because

of glorious fourteen-year-old Minnow.

Played by Glee's Dianna Aragon, Minnow is younger sister to the bride, and her scenes steal the film. One of my favourites comes when she goes to the attic to lovingly but sneakily try on her sister's wedding dress. (See opening image.)

The dress rips (see the film if you want to know why), and Lila, the bride (Paquin), athletically and angrily chases Minnow through the grand old house.

Here are the pages from the novel:

I might have a read, because I am certain that I can imagine more realistic Yale English majors than the ones portrayed in the film. But Minnow has winnowed her way into my imagination and there, she happily resides.

Pop Cats: Victoria Beckham's Dress

2011-09-17T16:53:00.000-07:00

UPDATED below, with video

Last summer, on Nantucket, I really liked an animal-print dress at Erica Wilson's shop.

It didn't have the expected stripes or spots, but was a tan silk jersey shirtdress from Italy with tiny purple bulldog silhouettes all over it. This week I couldn't remember the designer, and when I called EW today, I was told that it's Herno. But Herno shows up on the Web as an outerwear company and I know that I found the proper site last summer (but neglected to bookmark it, alas).

Anyway, if you're at EW on Nantucket, do take a peek; there are other animal-print patterns as well.

A more accessible animal-print dress hit the news the other day, when Victoria Beckham carried wee Harper in a dress with large housecats all over.

In the spirit of Princess Diana's black sheep sweater, there's a stray cat or two in a different colour to break up the ivory images.

Beckham's print dress is too novel for me, but it does remind me of Andy Warhol's cat illustrations, and I'd like to think that his work inspired it.

Here is a link to the WSJ's video report on animal prints--there's the high-heeled Marc Jacobs cat shoe, the Louboutin high heeled cat paw, the H&M antelope sweater, and more . . . I may have to break out my vintage black sheep sweater after all! Thanks, Belle de Ville, for the heads up regarding Sunday's WSJ story

Dr. 10110 (Manhattan)

2011-09-14T13:31:00.000-07:00

Do forgive this foray

into the poppiest of pop culture

(as well as the extended stay in menswear),

but has Dr. 90210 (Robert Rey)

been moonlighting

on his day job

with the fashion house

Paul Stuart?

Of Sebastian Flyte and the Duke of Windsor

2011-09-13T19:08:00.000-07:00

Sure, it's Rex Mottram, the cadish Canadian in Brideshead Revisited who's labeled chic, being pals with the Duke and all, but I'll take the ex-Pat position and venture that the sometimes Oxfordian Sebastian Flyte would look better in the Duke's tartan "lounge suit."

I think it would be fantastic if tartan suits and trousers for men had a resurgence.

Not like these:

Rag and Bone has given it a go:

For a more feminine version, here's Linda in her tartans:

And Mrs. Simpson, though not known for tartans, exactly, does decorate with a mean pug pillow, particularly formidable in packs:

A pug bowl would also be very nice with a side of tartan:

Pug images from here; tartan trousers from here.

September 11 and the Gift of Writers

2011-09-11T16:24:00.000-07:00

On September 10, 2001, I was delighted to learn that I was pregnant with my second child. The world looked rosy and full of happy possibility.

On the following morning, I walked into my modern literature class to have my students tell me about the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center (I chose to have neither a television nor at-home internet at that time).

Rosiness quickly gave way to fear and deep, deep sadness, as I listened, ceaselessly, to NPR over the next weeks. I wanted to hear the stories, about people's lives, to try and comprehend and process what had happened, to stand, somehow, symbolically, with those who had died and with those who had lost their loved ones.

I remember when the New Yorker's issue with Art Spiegelman's poignant black-on-black cover came out shortly thereafter, and how eloquently the contributors--journalists, novelists, poets--wrote about the tragedies as well as the humanity of New Yorkers, of passengers, pilots, and crewmembers on airplanes, a humanity that would not be quelled.

And five years later, the double cover that evoked Philippe Pettit, the "man on wire" who walked between the twin towers while they were being completed, reminded us that a daring act (stringing tightrope wires between the towers and then dancing on them) can result in beauty.

Today I am reading the New York Times, having completed this week's New Yorker issue on 9/11. I remain grateful to the writers and artists who so compassionately and skillfully put this sad anniversary into context.

Girls and Cars

2011-09-07T19:19:00.000-07:00

The first couple of times we meet the beautiful but emotionally distant Julia Marchmain in Brideshead Revisited, she's in a car, looking out at her observers.

I always think of this self-portrait by Tamara de Lempicka, so perfectly does it capture the essence of the Julia I see in my mind's eye.

Some years ago I saw de Lempicka's work at an art deco exhibit at the wonderful Palace of the Legion of Honor Museum in San Francisco.

There was also a white 1937 Cord 812 Phaeton, with lipstick-red interior:

De Lempicka's paintings complement snazzy cars, and vice versa.

But back to Brideshead: Just before Julia gets engaged to a Canadian chap who has distinctly rakish qualities, she receives from him, as a gift, a bedazzled, blinged-out tortoise. Her initials, via diamonds, are set in the tortoise's shell.

I much prefer a vintage tortoise-shell comb, with blurry sapphires and pearls.

The Cord could always offer the tortoise shell a lift . . .

Road Thrill

2011-09-06T16:36:00.000-07:00

If someone were to drive through the eastern Prince Edward Island countryside, while staying close to the shoreline, she might find, an unusually picturesque house across the road from my father's childhood home.

She'd probably stop in wonder, for the old farmhouse would be painted a bright, almost burnt, orange colour, accented with white wooden gingerbread and wrought iron details. It's been that colour for as long as I can remember, ever since someone used some paint that was left over from lining the middle of the roads.

A textile artist lives there now, appropriately, and the road-line orange is set off to great effect with a collection of fancy white heirloom chickens, with red accents, and a lush garden. There may be a garden schnake, but I've never checked.

I was reminded of this road-line orange gingerbread house when I saw Bottega Veneta's new bag--made from alternating stripes of burnt orange velvet and python. To me, it's a high-end country road bag, the orange stripes marking the middle of the road, the python leisurely crossing.

Do tell, gentle readers, is this bag in a passing or a no passing zone?

Rubber Sole

2011-09-03T13:06:00.000-07:00

I was just six months old when the Beatles album came out, so I'm more familiar with rubber soles (and uppers, too).

The other day when I was reading the NYT styles section, I was struck by the architecturally appealing shoes worn, to the right, by set designer, etc., Anne Koch.

She said she bought them from an online boutique, Grey Area, so off I clicked, to learn that the shoes (Zaha Hadid for Melissa) were made of rubber, not leathah.

On one hand, this knowledge was good, because my interest in the shoes instantly diminished. But on the other hand, was I too quick to reject them?

Saddlebag Chic

2011-09-02T17:21:00.000-07:00

I saw a surprisingly chic, utilitarian bag the other day from a house that typically codes matronly, to my eye.

This fall Longchamp seems to be giving its nylon bags a bit of a rest by focusing on Balzane, its horsey new line.

Readers may remember that I've been looking for a suitable tote to lug my books around in. This large, seemingly hold-all nubuck/smooth bag with saddle styling just might just be the pony express.

Neigh or yay?

Renaming a New Yorker Cover

2011-08-31T00:00:00.000-07:00

This illustration by Istvan Banyai is officially called "On the Horizon,"

but I couldn't resist renaming it "Sea Shelf."

How does that tongue twister go?

She sells sea shelfs(!) on the sea shore . . .

Sideburning Down the House: Gaga, Linda, and VMA Chic

2011-08-30T07:04:00.000-07:00

UPDATED with photo, below

When I saw Lady Gaga's alter ego Jo Calderone at the VMAs, I flashed back to one of my favourite models, Linda Evangelista, who wore that look well herself, back in the day.

I cannot locate the photos I have in mind, which are of Linda in sideburns and stubble, but here are a couple of Linda in "drag":

I also have a strong suspicion that I've seen Cindy Crawford in sideburns too (no, it's not the VF cover with k.d. lang), and would be thrilled if any savvy readers knew where to locate the images.

Gaga by Nick Knight

Here's the terrific Cindy Crawford photo (Herb Ritts, 1993), thanks to Anon:

Just Peachy: Kate Moss's Beautiful Cover

2011-08-27T11:41:00.000-07:00

UPDATED! below . . .

This morning my eldest daughter and I walked to the farmers' market for fresh vegetables and bouquets of gloriously faded zinnias.

Although I do like jewel tones, a faded flower, in shades of peach, pink, and saffron, is so pretty at this time of year, when the light begins to change from summer bright to fall warm tones.

I also bought, though not at the farmer's market, August's Vogue UK (at the end of the month, I know), so struck was I by Kate Moss's cover.

Not only does she look more elegant than I've seen her for years in an editorial (I was actually reminded of this image for Liz Tilberis' Harper's Bazaar):

except that she is wearing a gently faded peach dress, delectably embroidered with sequins and silk:

I do hope to see more KM editorials like this one (photographed by Mario Testino).

But wait: what's this? A dress so terracotta-y, bordering on "rust," that I ignored it on style.com?

How can this earthy dress be the peachy confection far above? Ahh, the tricks of the light . . .

What's Black and White and Read All Over (and Orange and Green . . .)

2011-08-27T08:07:00.000-07:00

Ahh, picking up the daily paper could be such a cheerful errand if all vendors were decked out in pretty prints.

*Image from Waverly

Ballerina Style for Grown-Ups

2011-08-26T15:36:00.000-07:00

[Considerably updated below]

Carla Sozzani, owner of the gallery 10 Corso Como (Italy).

From New York Magazine.

What intrigues me about this look? Many elements, to be sure.

It reminds me of two dresses I used to wear frequently: one in thick gray jersey with an identical bodice , but a gently flowing, almost ankle-length skirt. I wore it with a tall blonde topknot and flat Doc Martens unlaced black lace-up shoes.

But there's also the tank-bodice, saffron, thick jersey ballerina dress that invoked Azzedine Alaia. A perfectly graceful dress for the summer.

And finally, my favourite sculpture as a lassie was Degas' dancer. Cliche, no doubt, but when a show of Degas came to Ottawa's stunning national gallery of art, I looked at the tiny dancer until every square of tulle was etched into my mind. Three different versions are below:

It's a case of Degas vue, if you ask me . . .

Buttons as Bait

2011-08-26T06:02:00.000-07:00

Even though I grew up on Prince Edward Island, I'm not much of a fisherwoman. I've been deep sea fishing only once, in Rustico, and if I remember, was too squeamish to put live bait on the hook, let alone retrieve a fish from the line.

Prada's cast a line this fall, with its fish-scale inspired pailette dresses. (And yes, I'm mad for the head gear).

But those big buttons on the dresses and shoes? Perhaps they are bait, but they don't reel me in. A lucky fisherwoman might just find one tossed back in the ocean.

If you're looking for a little fall reading about the fishing life, do pick up Alastair MacLeod's collection of short stories, published as Island in the United States, The Lost Salt Gift of Blood in Canada. "The Boat" is just about perfect.

She's Got the Beat

2011-08-24T13:26:00.000-07:00

A long time ago, when I was a tender student in the 1980s, I did some front-of-camera work.

One day the photographer wanted to cut my shoulder-length hair. I agreed, but wasn't fully prepared for the statement cut--short at sides and back, long and high in front.

Memories are, umm, cropping up this season as that look is making a reappearance:

Even the hair stylist of the above three images, Didier Malige for Frederic Fekkai, takes me back!

My monae is on the above look for fall. Indeed, it seems that every hair style that comes around, Go Gos around . . .

Feeling Sketchy

2011-08-18T21:08:00.000-07:00

Why yes, these small sketchbooks from Liberty of London with Ianthe detail do make me feel like drawing.

And collecting.

Back to Backward Bedlingtons

2011-08-18T19:10:00.000-07:00

Backward Bedlingtons are facing front everywhere.

I've seen them in magazines, on blogs (Bourbon & Pearls has made a particularly hilarious connection), but not yet on my feet.

Perhaps that's because there are so many combinations:

Far above is my favourite, the gold and pink Backward Bedlington.

But there is also this version. If pushed, I could say that it reminds me of Malvolio in cross-gartered pink stockings, if he didn't actually wear yellow.

Fortunately, Miu Miu makes a version in not yellow, but in what I'm calling "banana":

The black version is elegant, but as that's not the point of this shoe (it relies on a little garish glamour), I'd call this show a "why bother," aka a decaf, skim latte. (That's what an old barista chum called my once-favourite drink.)

This is called a pump, but it sends me into shivers of terror with its vampy resemblance to a Candies mule. No, no, no.

And finally, another criss-cross version, but with more of a toddler swing-seat feel. I'd happily swing my feet in these.

Ahh, gentle readers, are you hissing or miouing over these Miu Miu Backward Bedlingtons?

Young Girls with Long Hair and Sandalled Feet

2011-08-17T16:46:00.000-07:00

I am thinking of an Alice Munro story, one whose title I cannot remember and one whose text I cannot find on my bookshelf. Munro often creates an image that speaks exactly to something that I am feeling or didn't know that I needed to feel.

The story I cannot locate ended, I believe, with a line about the kind of trust children place in their parents, and how parents, imperfect as we are, do not necessarily earn or deserve that trust, though we are granted it.

That's a Munro image I keep in my heart, and return to, when I am feeling awed.

But that's not the image I'm contemplating now.

This image is at once literary and cinematic, from both Munro's story "The Bear Went over the Mountain" and Sarah Polley's film of that story, Away from Her.

It is "young girls with long hair and sandalled feet."

The image refers to university students, as seen by a male professor through his rather lusty lens, but my lens is not his.

I still see female students, but they are, perhaps, my daughters, not yet teenagers, sitting at their desks with their home-salon pedicures in purple or aqua (often both).

Or perhaps they are young college-age women, whose sandalled feet identify them as still in those precious years of study and contemplation, before they change into professional shoes and begin their careers.

My lens is tender, maybe a bit nostalgic, but mainly full of hope for these young girls with long hair, hope that they will embrace their youth (of course they will) and have many, many years to look back upon these sandalled days.

*image by Kiki Smith, Come Away from Her after Lewis Carroll

To Buy Bernardos, or Not to Buy?

2011-08-04T18:10:00.000-07:00

Oh, I had plenty of time to think about them, so there's really no excuse for my tardiness.

I had seen them in February, and yet again in May on the Manolo's Shoe Blog and visited Zappos each time while making mental notes.

But I guess I forgot about them until I saw a fellow ferry traveler in Nantucket wearing them, wearing them so very well indeed.

By now I had forgotten their name and manufacturer (Mojito; Bernardo), so I engaged in some research that overheated my happily vacationing computer, till I located them again.

But this time I read the reviews (this can either be a genius or self-defeating move) and determined that about nine-out-of-ten wearers either sent back the sandals or were *very* unhappy with how the sandals fit.

So, gentle readers, should I jump at this "last" chance or be happy that I've avoided what may be a disappointing fit?

Gorsuch Style

2011-08-03T00:00:00.000-07:00

A sure sign that summer's coming to an end is the arrival of the Gorsuch catalogue. Full of over-the-top Gstaad ski togs and Alpinabilia, this catalogue inspires both desire and amusement.

For instance, more than once I've admired a sweater on a well-clad model and, scanning the price list, think to myself, "Oh, $175 isn't too much for that sweater."

Then I read more carefully and see that's the price of her cashmere socks.

(Full disclosure: my beloved Technica boots are from the Gorsuch catalogue.)

Following a quick perusal, here are my short-list picks from the latest edition:

I like the purply-pink trim on this brown sweater. And the shell buttons:

These shoes, though, are my real objet d'amour:

Made by Brunello Cucinelli, their laces are not mere grosgrain, but silk grosgrain.

And this confuses me: an iPad (tablet) case that costs more than the actual tablet? Ooh la la:

To be sure, it is made by Bottega Veneta . . .

Do gentle readers enjoy the Gorsuch lookbook or is it my guilty pleasure alone?

Baby's Got Baggu

2011-08-02T12:10:00.000-07:00

Gwyneth Paltrow for Goop and I definitely agree on one thing: the functional prettiness of Baggu.

I bought my nylon Baggu, which has a zip close and no handles, at Purl Soho, to store my new stash of fabric and notions:

I do not carry the juice--cough, cough--to offer a discount, but Goop readers can receive one by clicking on the above link and locating the proper code. And as Baggu is extremely affordable anyway, the discount simply adds to the pleasure of the purchase.

Quite obviously, I hope, I did not receive any compensation for this post; just pointing out how _____ minds think alike. (blonde?)

Watercolor for the Beach

2011-08-02T06:45:00.000-07:00

When I was in my early twenties I looked forward to buying a new swimsuit every summer.

My label of choice then was Gottex, prompted by the then enticing ads I'd see in Vogue.

Valeria Golino in Gottex

Once I saw a Gottex ad of Paulina Porizkova (one of my very favorite models, now and then), who was wearing a bandeau one-piece, in light turquoise blue embellished with a silvery-gold crackle design. I ran right out to a swimsuit shop in Ottawa and got it.

(I still have the Paulina ad, but it's home. I'll try to scan and post upon return.) The beauteous Paulina-for-Gottex is also above, top image.

Another time I saw a matte-gold maillot with a bandeau top and retro straps (gathered at the top of the swimsuit, wide on the shoulder) in Flare magazine and embarked on an immediate telephone search. I'd located and purchased it by lunch.

Naomi Campbell in Gottex

Since I no longer live on a small island where beaching can be a career in the summer, I haven't been so much in tune with swimwear for the past years.

But when vacationing on Nantucket last week, I saw some watercolor prints that are helping me get back into the swim of things, so to speak.

The first print is by the Italian company Leggiadro. This shop has a crazy cap/lower-cap-mix "handwritten" label and boasts a hearty helping of cheetah print, but can also be subtle.

These swimsuits were in the shop window, and were particularly appealing, given the island light:

The second print, below, is by Manuel Canovas, a name I hadn't thought about in years, but was delighted to remember. I particularly like the flattering cut of the maillot, though the bikini looks equally wearable:

One of my favorite swimsuit models from the great 80s is Ashley Richardson. Her patented pose was the extraordinary leap:

I liked her work for ELLE (not so much SI, thanks). Here she is with Rachel Williams:

And of course, Rachel is another athletic model who could work a swimsuit:

Do gentle readers have any favourite combinations? Swinsuit/model; swimsuit/designer?

Boden Channels Liberty's Ianthe

2011-08-01T05:39:00.000-07:00

It seems to me that Boden's navy "flower power" print owes Liberty's classic Ianthe design a "thank you" . . .

The original:

The revision:

And there's also the "krinkle" shirt, above.

(I'll take the original . . . )

Pink and Green

2011-07-29T05:39:00.000-07:00

Indeed, the pink and green mix is known as classic preppy, but even on Nantucket, one can tweak the standard to produce a new look.

I've written both this summer and last about the tunic salad available on the island, but was hesitant to take a bite till I found the most unusual colour combination, tucked away in an unlikely shop. It's a bright mossy green with rich fuschia flowers, a slim fit, and, well, just pleases me.

As I looked at the Indian cotton block-print, I realized it reminded me of one of my favourite hand-blocked wallpapers, from Adelphi. That image is above.

But it also reminded me of the Priory Garden wllpaper from J. R. Burrows, seen below, although the colors in this historic print are more subdued.

And you know, it's impossible to be a wallflower in this "Proustian wallpaper" tunic.

The Sound and the Frilly

2011-07-27T13:20:00.000-07:00

Well, that's the vacation book William Faulkner might have written if he'd spent his time swimming in the Nantucket Sound and beachcombing for frilly shells instead of stoking a university furnace on the third shift.

This morning was spent not in the Sound, though, but on Madaket Beach, where the waves crash, and sweep one up before hurtling them to shore and dumping them out in a furious froth. And if that sentence was written in the passive, I guess it mirrors my state as I was rocked and rolled in the relentless surf, to my happy exhaustion.

This afternoon I may just contemplate the similarities and differences between the nationally beloved Miss Rumphius . . .

and Madaket Millie, a true Nantucket beach read, original illustrations of which are prettily on display at the Atheneum Children's Library.

Barb Desire: Liberty of London Collaborates with Barbour

2011-07-27T05:59:00.000-07:00

My love for Liberty of London has been well documented here, as has my affection for Barbour.

My home is full of Liberty prints, but Barbour has eluded me, though I have worn Mr. C's and felt tremendously warm, dry, sporting and chic, despite the fact that he is over a foot taller than I am.

(Such is the magic of Barbour.)

(And I am not short.)

(Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

So gentle readers will understand the racing of my pulse when I learned, via the always-in-the-know Liberty London Girl, that these two terrific companies are collaborating.

A rapid URL-type took me to Liberty's site where I found some lovely Barbour jackets, lined in Liberty.

Here are details of all the tantalizing Tana Lawn /waxed cotton /corduroy collar combinations. Do tell me if you have a favourite!

Macaroons Are the New Cupcakes

2011-07-26T11:03:00.000-07:00

When I was one year old at Christmas, as my mum liked to tell it, I took one bite out of my first chocolate and promptly screamed for another.*

That impulse came rushing back today when my middle daughter and I went to Petticoat Row Bakery on Nantucket to pick up some birthday cupcakes. She spied a selection of macaroons, in the Laduree tradition with a twist: the fillings are buttercream.

I have not (yet) sampled a proper Laduree macaron, but I was delighted with the key lime macaroon from Petticoat Row that we two girls shared.

We will have to return tomorrow to sample some other flavours.

Petticoat Row: so-named for the Centre Street, Nantucket, stores owned by women while men were off on whaling voyages.

* For my gentle Canadian readers, the chocolate was from a box of Moirs Pot of Gold. Does anyone remember the never-ending box-lid art of a woman holding a box of chocolates with a woman on the lid holding a box of chocolates with a . . .

Waist, Not; Want, Yes!

2011-07-25T05:44:00.000-07:00

Here on this tiny holiday island there are lots and lots of shops. And in these shops there are lots and lots and LOTS of dresses and tunics in beautiful, summery, colorful Indian cotton prints.

Some of the dresses have pretty embroidery and sequin embellishments around the neck and hem (tastefully boho, I promise), some simply rely on their gorgeous prints for impact.

But what these lovely garments all lack is a waist.

Truly, I'd be happy with a hint of shape, a cut that follows one's contours instead of draping like a tent; a set-in waist, empire or true, is not necessary.

Perhaps one could add a belt to the beautiful tents, but that defeats the ease of a dress for me, and also can result in a puffy silhouette.

I am thinking out loud that a niche needs to be filled. I now have dreams of producing a line of summery dresses that do not conceal a woman's shape in those perfect Indian cottons.

I'll do it right after I direct my Jane Eyredale film.

LA on the East Coast

2011-07-24T05:37:00.000-07:00

I grew up in a family of women golfers, and dressing for golf was an important part of the sport: golf skirts and smart tees.

In a little English seaside shop on Nantucket I was brought back to the links of my youth when I saw the clothing by LA label Franklin & Gower.

F&G make Rat Pack-era swim trunks for men:

And in a selection of blue, they make cool shorts for women, in microwale cord with a floral stripe:

Hot pants(!)--for women, in seersucker:

And these little skirts that would be perfect for calling "Fore!"

Out of this lot, I could see the (longer) shorts being "fore" me on the east coast. . . if styled in a west coast manner . . .

Breaking the Waves

2011-07-22T00:00:00.000-07:00

Will dock soon . . .

Best Dress-ed

2011-07-21T10:47:00.000-07:00

Sometimes newspapers can state the obvious. Take today's Styles section of the NYT, for instance.

Its above-the-fold photo (and story) focuses on the dress as an appropriate summer uniform.

To which I can only respond, "Duuuude" (with the proper inflection, of course).

I realize that a few days ago I posted on the potential beauty of light layers. And indeed, I do think that the layering of colors is lovely, but my summer wardrobe consists almost entirely of dresses.

Why? I love their ease, their floatiness, their completeness. All I need for summer (when I'm not in the ocean) is a cotton dress, a light pair of sandals, and some glamourous sunglasses (and a topknot).

But I have some serious dress requirements.

It must be cotton or linen and, ideally, lined in cotton as well.
It *must* have a discernible waist. No smock or sheath dresses.
No gathered drawstrings beneath the bustline.
Preferably an A-line skirt that floats over the body.
Sleeveless.
V-neck or surplice neckline. Possibly a scoop on a case-by-case basis.
No collars.
Nooooo buttons. Side zip is best.
Knee-length or just-ever-so-slightly longer.
Print or plain, however, the print cannot be cute. "Cute" is an adjective that I avoid like the plague.

So, fellow gentle summer-dress wearers: do you have any demands that you make of your dresses?

Black-and-Tanicure

2011-07-20T08:40:00.000-07:00

To my mind, a black-and-tan is something to order from Chumley's, the late, great Village joint with the secret entry.

But August's Vogue shows Karlie Kloss wearing a black-and-tan manicure, with some definitely pointy filed tips.

Would gentle readers try this black-and-tanicure for fall, with or without the long points?

**If you want a piece of Chumley's, Rick Kelly at Carmine Street Guitars is making knotty-pine telecasters from that fabled speakeasy's wood.

And if you want the black-and-tanicure, it was done by Yuna Park at Streeters.

Sheer Layers

2011-07-18T11:44:00.000-07:00

New York Magazine has stated that night for day has returned, in the form of sheer, nightgown inspired dresses for day.

The magazine doesn't give any hints for wearing the sheer component out in public, aside from a slideshow of Real People "sleepwalking" in such dresses, but only one Real Person wore what I'd call truly sheer, and she paired it with black undergarments. (See the slideshow in the link above.)

I like the idea of going vibrant, as in this combination, below, by Shakauchi:

However, I would definitely wear a colorful slip/petticoat that matches the camisole/bodysuit. If I were on So You Think You Can Dance, and dancing on stage, I'd skip the slip.

There's no room for the T logo on this sheer Tory Burch dress:

I'm imagining a black sheer dress worn with vibrant violet underpinnings. The combinations are endless!

The Golden Horn, by Chanel Wharton-James

2011-07-17T00:00:00.000-07:00

I thought that the name and look of these heels and sandals by Chanel was very Wharton-Jamesian.

On an innocent American lass the sandals might yearn to visit the Coliseum at dusk.

Or knowledge about a golden bowl, almost received as a wedding gift, might suddenly enter one's ken while wearing the heels.

Perhaps the heels might try to brazenly enter Old New York society, having just moved from the middle west.

Backward Bedlingtons: Miu Miu Pink and Sparkly Gold Heels 2011

2011-07-15T13:53:00.000-07:00

Miu Miu has created a fantastic new heel that looks to me exactly like a Backward Bedlington.

(Bedlington is what I named the shoe silhouette designed by Alexander McQueen. It reminds me of a Bedlington terrier.) I've blogged about the Bedlingtons here, here, here, and here. And here they are:

Up top: the Backward Bedlingtons on their glorious own.

Below: on the runway.

And finally, on 15-year-old Hailee Steinfeld, who was born the year I began working in publishing. Sigh.

The name Backward Bedlington kind of reminds me of the character named Wrongway Feldman from Gilligan's Island. Sherwood Schwartz, the creator of GI, made some of my favorite childhood shows. I hope that teens from Hailee's generation had the opportunity to watch some of them.

Made in Buckingham

2011-07-15T07:12:00.000-07:00

I watched the film Made in Dagenham for the first time right around the time when the Duchess and the Duke of Cambridge were leaving Calgary.

In both productions a red dress featured prominently.

The Duchess wore a Catherine Walker design, accentuated by her mother-in-law's large, glittering maple leaf pin.

Rita (Sally Hawkins' character) wore a borrowed Biba, with large, diamond-shape buttons.

The more I thought about it, the more the two narratives began to intersect.

Both Kate and Rita work for well-known institutions (The Firm and Ford Motor Company); both are commoners (though I dislike that word) who emerge as public figures while wearing a designer red dress.

Most importantly, both speak out on behalf of the oppressed: in lieu of wedding gifts the Duchess invited guests to donate to an anti-bullying charity, and Rita's persuasive speeches led to women receiving equal pay for equal work.

I read some reviews after I had screened the film and learned from a male English critic that the plot device of a posh, highly educated and bored wife (Rosamond Pike, the wife of a Ford exec.) lending a working-class gel the red Biba dresss is a "clunky attempt at female solidarity across the class divide."
But I think that dresses are a fitting way to bridge the class divide. Just look at how easily Rita and the female politician Barbara Castle (brilliantly played by Miranda Richardson) bond over frocks. Both working women share a recognition of quality (Biba) but own the much lesser priced C&A.

I'll argue that although women can and do unite over social and political issues, we can also build alliances through dresses. I know that I'm looking forward to seeing more of those dresses that are made in Buckingham.

Hue, Britannia!

2011-07-14T08:27:00.000-07:00

This summer is all about colour for me.

I've completed two quilts, one a crazy melange of Liberty prints, the other a dialogue between vintage applique squares and primitive quilting (which means larger stitches and freehand designs) I've done with coloured embroidery floss.

My family even beat the NYT to the punch with its Elvis-would-be-proud colourful-shoes story.

Now I want to turn to my home in a way I have never done: I want to paint parts of it. I've already noted that I plan to reimagine my fireplace a la Vanessa Bell at Charleston, if I get the nerve, but a less public-room project might be transforming a chest of drawers.

As you may know, I have a "thing" for the Union Jack as decoration, and have just seen a fantastic DIY project that I would like to emulate.

Look above at the bureau painted by clothing designer Sheridan French. She was inspired by the chest of drawers painted in tradition Union Jack colours but updated it. Would it not be a lark to try this as well?

Now for the colour palette. I love the orange and pink pictured, but think that a turquoise or aqua and jade or pink combination could be smart. (OK, maybe funky rather than smart.)

Have gentle readers seen the Union Jack dressed up in any utterly desirable colour combinations? I'm open to inspiration!

Possibilities: red and purple (inspired by a Zac Posen dress)

Frock and Roll

2011-07-13T12:17:00.000-07:00

Liberty of London has just released its fall 2011 fabric collection, which is inspired by musicians.

Singer Florence Welch selected two prints from the Liberty archives to reissue, right (Dancing Ladies) and below (lace):

Guitarist Graham Coxon produced an original sketch (which became this print A Boy Dreams) to recall vintage rock posters:

Singer Emilia de Poret designed this print to evoke microphones, though I see disco balls too (!):

Here's a link to the entire range.

A Pearl in Soho

2011-07-12T18:50:00.000-07:00

The other day I visited Purl Soho to buy some fabric for my summer create-a-palooza (just finished another quilt).

It was my first IRL visit, and I was very pleased. The shop is long and narrow, but filled with light, and, most importantly, a very nicely edited collection of fabric.

There was a riot of Liberty of London, from bundled bits through fat quarters and half yards to lots of gorgeous bolts.

There were some usual suspects, like Amy Butler, and an enticing new collection from Heather Ross. All the fabric was boutique-y, which often meant pricey, but often simply meant cult of personality.

And there were some discoveries for me, like the Japanese fabric above, which will be a new quilt. I cannot bear to cut it, so I will make a lap/throw quilt (Kaffe Fassett sunbleached mango on the back, crazy L of L handmade binding).

If you like to knit, there's also a beautifully presented selection of yarn, and wonderfully helpful craftspeople to assist with any questions.

I also appreciated the stand-up display of embroidery floss, the project books that were easily accessible, and the cheerful color everywhere. Indeed, I think that Purl Soho just may be my Tiffanys. To borrow from Holly Golightly, there are no mean reds here. Only warm florals and heathered crimsons.

The shop is also next door to Rudy's Guitars, so if you happen to be travelling with a musician who prefers frets over finishes, he/she won't have to sit and wait. And wait. And wait.

Princess Kate in the Big Apple

2011-07-11T10:09:00.000-07:00

When the Duchess of Cambridge landed in the Big Apple last week, she wore a perfect apple-green dress by DVF.

What's that you say? Where did she land? Well, then.

At least she didn't land in a puddle, where these silly boots and kneesocks below would have come in handy. Or footy.

But since DVF is the president of CFDA, and since the CFDA awards take place in New York City, there is that apple-y connection.

In more accurate news, the duchess wore a very pretty Jenny Packham dress to watch her prince lead his polo team to victory. I've been a fan of Jenny Packham since waaaaay back, since like March 2010.

And that rogue military valet really didn't give anything away when he flashed Kate's garment bag, giving the world a sneak peak at this beautiful gown by Alexander McQueen. Or the Daily Mail did, anyway.

Finally, Kate indulged in a bit of granny chic in this Whistles crocheted top and pleated skirt to board her plane home.

Would gentle readers whistle at this ensemble? If so, how loudly?

Shakespeare in the Frock

2011-07-11T07:31:00.000-07:00

I like Annie Parisse's graceful elegance in this summer's New York City show of Shakespeare in the Park.

All's well that hems well.

To Sir, with Love

2011-07-08T05:18:00.000-07:00

Oh Sir Paul Smith,

only you could fill me with desire

for this Liberty print blouse with a neck bow!

for this rather silly straw hat,

and for this print from your men's swim trunks.

I might even wear them all together and create a scene.

Sipping Sorbet through a Straw: Wayuu Taya Summery Bags

2011-07-07T16:36:00.000-07:00

Remember the clapping game "Sipping Cider through a Straw" from summer camp?

Here at Camp Cavendish we're tweaking the lyrics in honor of these pretty sorbet-coloured straw bags by Wayuu Taya.

I saw these at Bona Drag, an ecclectic online boutique, and thought they'd be terrific for the beach or for summery jaunts.

There was, when I visited, only one left, so it may be cider, not sorbet, for our sipping straws.

Princess Kate and Northwest Territories Style

2011-07-05T15:47:00.000-07:00

UPDATED with a runway photo of Isaac Mizrahi's superb totem pole dress.

Today Kate and Will were in Yellowknife, a city in Canada's Northwest Territories. Her look was understated, a taupe unembellished dress and heels.

But the native people she met provided plenty of sartorial colorful, textural contrast, as in the image to the right.

The Dene people are well known for beautiful embroidery, using both moose tufts and porcupine quills. One of their celebrated designers is my hero from the mid-1980s, D'Arcy Moses, who made a glorious totem evening dress that I cannot find an image of, try as I might.

However, other designers have been employing (dare I say appropriating?) the totem motif to beautiful effect.

Perhaps the best known is Isaac Mizrahi's gown, worn by Naomi Campbell in 1991:

on the runway:

and by a humble mannequin:

But there's also Erin Wasson's very cool dress:

as seen on thefujifiles.com

and a similar one by Lindsey Thornburg:

Even Versace makes a totem-inspired frock:

and Copenhagen designers Tine Winther Rysgaard and Trine Maja Kristoffersen borrow elements as well:

But don't forget the stunning dress worn by Kathy Hartman, Miss Alaska-Universe, in 1971:

It's actually missing and its designer Leah Clemmons-Madonna would like it back.

I would love it if Princess Catherine would purchase some clothing from the Northwest territories--a parka? an embroidered pair of moccasins? a moose-tufted barrette (like I did) and wear it at home. Or wouldn't it be smashing if she wore a totem evening gown?

Rosebuds

2011-07-05T10:21:00.000-07:00

I have been on a bit of a princess lark lately, and continue with a look at what a well-dressed sleeping princess might wear.

I love the poster for ABT's production of The Sleeping Beauty, with its rosebud-embellished tutu.

For those of us who might not find a tutu too practical, this pretty rosebud scarf by Louis Vuitton might be just right:

Or journalism moguls might choose a red rosebud sled for a winter slalom course:

Kindred Spirits: Kate Recollects Diana in Charlottetown

2011-07-04T14:42:00.000-07:00

Readers of Anne of Green Gables will know that Anne's "bosom friend" is the raven-haired, beautifully dressed Diana Barry.

The Duchess of Cambridge is one such reader, and, while in Charlottetown, she seemed to have been conjuring another "kindred spirit" named Diana: her husband's mother.

In 1983 the newlywed Princess Diana wore a sailor-inspired drop-waist light blue dress with white accents to Province House. I was lucky enough to snap this Polaroid of her:

And here is a full-length image, not taken by me:

Princess Kate (as my daughter calls her) wore the mirror image to Province House: a cream drop-waist sailor dress with navy trim:

Planned or not, these looks are "pretty" similar, and just plain "pretty."

The Duchess in Ottawa: Maple Leaf Rad

2011-07-01T08:40:00.000-07:00

It's not easy to look chic draped in a flag, but I love how the Duchess of Cambridge wears our Maple Leaf colours on Canada Day.

Kate's wearing her ivory Reiss engagement portrait frock; her fan clutch is by Anya Hindmarch.

And her fascinator?

This topper is no "Maple Leaf Rag" . . .

This look is clearly "Maple Leaf Rad":

Happy Canada Day!

2011-07-01T05:53:00.000-07:00

American friends beware: I may break into the Canadian national anthem randomly throughout the day.

The Duchess of Cambridge has been hitting the right notes, sartorially speaking. She and the Duke are celebrating Canada Day (as well as Princess Diana's birthday?) in Ottawa today.

I graduated from the University of Ottawa and soooo miss the Rideau Canal (for running and ice-skating) as well as Parliament Hill, where we used to throw softballs on the lawn, in gentler times.

I thought that the Duchess looked so very elegant yesterday in her blue lace Erdem dress (Canadian-born designer!) and demi chignon. And my, she looks so genuinely happy, which elevates her natural prettiness to another level.

I'm looking forward to following the royal Canadian visit this week. Shall we tip our glass of good Canadian beer in celebration? What's your favourite brew?

Cheers!

A Pot of Pucci

2011-06-30T08:10:00.000-07:00

I was charmed by this tiny pot of Pucci, presented in the Styles section of today's NYT.

It's lush and green like the promise of summer, with signature swirls.

Kate's Wimbledon Dress

2011-06-28T15:02:00.000-07:00

Wimbledon tickets are generally very pretty collectors' items; I have Mr. C's 2001 ticket, an illustration of graceful ladies playing in long skirts, framed. (The ticket pictured here is from 1991.)

As tennis fans will note, being seated anywhere near the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge the other day was also a hot ticket.

Much has been made of the duchess's dress: it's off the rack! it's now sold out! it cost xxx amount of dollars! (pounds!)

But amid all this lobbing back and forth, I didn't read anyone saying that they actually like the dress.

I can't say that I did: with its cascading-tennis-ball straps and its tiered skirts, which reminded me of tennis nets, the dress seemed too novel.

So what would you suggest, then, Miss Smartypants?

I'd have dressed the duchess in this broderie anglais dress by Vivienne Westwood Anglomania:

I like its full skirt, as a slim white skirt can be too slenderizing on the duchess. And the bow on the bateau neck would not be too jeune fille for this young bride.

Call me, Kate, and we'll talk frocks.

You Zetter, You Zetter, You Zet . . .

2011-06-27T15:45:00.000-07:00

So that I can properly source the vintage textiles that continue to catch my eye and imagination, I am taking a virtual trip to London, where I shall be ensconced at the Zetter Townhouse.

I shall, through the power of my imagination, climb these stairs that remind me of a Kaffe Fassett crazy log cabin square:

My room will be this one, draped in Union Jacks, all the better (the Zetter!) to immerse myself in Anglomania:

I shall take a daily pint on one of these banquettes:

and I shall spread out my fabrics in the library,

perhaps enticing fellow textilophiles who pass through the lobby:

Although my mind will say "Do not Disturb," my door knob might just say this:

And how does that song go, again? "When I say 'I love you,' you say, 'You better . . .'"

But more importantly: Who's coming with??!!

Vintage Needlework

2011-06-27T05:19:00.000-07:00

Wisdom has it that one pieces together quilt tops during the summer (quilt tops are cool) and quilts all winter (quilts are hot).

My schedule doesn't permit that, so I've been quilting up a summer storm over the past week, using embroidery floss instead of quilting thread, allowing my normally tiny stitches to stretch and be seen.

It's a Chaucerian virtue of necessity (time! eyesight!), but also rather pretty, I hope.

Speaking of time, let's travel back to the British arts and crafts movement for these snippets of glorious needlework from Meg Andrews' collection.

A Slice of Orange

2011-06-25T07:13:00.000-07:00

During athletic matches, players snack on slices of citrus at halftime to recover their energy.

And visually, too, citrus can be an excellent palate cleanser, an amuse bouche for those of us who have overindulged in other colors.

To the right, a slice of Roberto Cavalli,

Below, a slice of a corset by Rosamosario.

And if you are feeling very athletic today, why not take more than just a slice? Enjoy the whole fruit!

Barbara Brown's Blue Panel

2011-06-24T00:00:00.000-07:00

Feel like I am tumbling, very contentedly, head over heels down Alice's rabbit hole, into a deep, lush world of textiles.

My Alice isn't wearing her traditional blue and white, though; she's dressed in this gorgeous vintage cloth designed by Barbara Brown in 1955 for the London company Heal's, which has been operating since 1810(!)

Although my Alice's fabric was designed a few decades later, it would fit into the Charleston/Bloomsbury vibe of the early 1900s seamlessly:

"Paint me," this fabric says. And Vanessa Bell would, I'll bet.

Here's the fabric in another colorway. Both are available through Esther Fitzgerald Rare Textiles, which I discovered, to my delight, this rainy evening.

A Second Cup of Cappuccino, with the Duchess

2011-06-23T10:42:00.000-07:00

Readers may remember my post on the semantics of ordering more than one cappuccino in a cafe.

Here's an instance, though, where one cap would be just perfect.

I've been storing a mental image of the Duchess of Cambridge wearing this hat at Epsom, and return to it time and again because it is such a compact, cunning shape, and has a terrific color. It's called cappuccino, but also reminds me of a delicious cookie dunked in said cap.

The hat is made by the stately house of Whiteley and, for those of us who love to look at winter plums, here's a smart version for the colder weather.

Would you eat this plum if it were in the icebox? (Poetry alert! Name that poet!!)

Coach-ing Techniques for Reed Krakoff

2011-06-22T16:17:00.000-07:00

Remember that New Yorker article on Reed Krakoff not too long ago? The one in which his mother and wife kept correcting him?

The article was about how Krakoff had developed his own line of clothes and bags (see photo, right) as well as his Coach line.

At one point he said something like this (and I paraphrase from memory): he designs his Coach bags for a specific
customer, not one whose aesthetic he shares, but stated that his Reed Krakoff line is more a reflection of his own taste.

And the article does note what good taste Mr. Krakoff has. (Take a second look at the photo, now above.)

Certainly, designers design with a client in mind, but it is my (naive?) wish that they would design aspirational goods--not super-expensive pieces, but elegant, beautiful pieces that would respect and perhaps enhance the consumer's own taste.

For in the past decades, Coach has moved from a rather charmingly stodgy line of thick, train-case, horsy leathers to become the blinged-out love child of Juicy Couture and Roberto Cavalli.

Did Mr. Krakoff seem a tad embarassed of the recent bags he's designed? Perhaps not, as they have made money for the company, but perhaps he should, as they have made money for the company.

He clearly has the aesthetic vision to create something lovely, as a counterpart to gaudy; why not do so for his Coach customer?

In related Coach news, five classic bags have just been reissued. Available through Net-a Porter, as well as Coach, they are the grand dames, the foundations of the Coach legacy. I will be interested to see how they are received.

Will women buy these:

or these?: