Story of a Dress

Ok. Sorry for the lack of posts, I have been busy getting a job (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and not really anything else. My employers read my blog (the horrors of working for a media company) so I won't say much else. But yeah. Today on the way to choir I dropped in to Recycle Boutique and saw a glimpse of fabric sticking out of the 'vintage dresses' rail that made my heart stop a little bit. When I pulled the dress out, I was so thrilled. We were reunited, and it felt so good.

When I was 15ish and much, much smaller than I am today, I got an adorable 1950s children's dress from Two Squirrels Vintage. When I was 16 I was in a band, and I wore this dress when we played at an art gallery's Christmas auction. Thanks to documenting my entire teenage years in depth on Livejournal, I have photos from this very day of me in said dress.

Wearing a 1950s beaded cashmere cardigan that I opshopped the day this photo was taken for $4.
  With my then-bandmates Steven and Bryn.

But then I got old, and got fat, and grew out of the dress. I sold it on Trademe and I seem to remember it going for a pittance, and me being really disappointed. I regretted it almost immediately, and have had occasional pangs of regret ever since for letting it go.

But today it came back to me, in a different city, after 3 or 4 years of being apart. It definitely does not fit me anymore but that is entirely beside the point, and I am so happy to be reunited with it. I'm trying to decide what to do with it- I could chop off the top (and its lovely collar) and turn it into a skirt, or I could chop off some of the bottom and turn it into inserts to put in the sides to make it fit my boobs so I can wear it as a babydoll mini-dress, or I could just leave it the way it is, hang it on my wall and keep it for my future children. What do you guys reckon?

It begins.

Today I got lunch with my brother, then ran into everybody I know in this city at various points on Cuba St, then decided I had two options: walk home in the light rain and treat myself by ducking into the opshop on the way home, or treat myself by taking the bus and no opshopping. So... yeah.


The little blue gingham shift is a school uniform, made in the 70s judging by the label. The white one though... SO happy about this dress. I saw it in the window of the Vinnies a week ago when it was closed. I planned to go back and try it on but when I next walked past it was gone from the window, so I assumed it was sold and was so disappointed. When I wandered in today it was there in the kids' section waiting for me (along with the blue dress). At first I thought it might be modern, but it has these amazing diamante buttons, a metal zipper and lots of lovely hand-stitching so it's definitely fifties. It didn't have a price tag on and I was worried it would be lots of money, but the shop assistant was SO nice and gave it to me for $5 when she saw how excited I was about it. She also gave me a volunteer application form and a trial in the shop next Wednesday- I've applied for maybe 50 jobs in the last fortnight and been unsuccessful thus far, so I may as well spend my time doing something worthwhile rather than sleeping in until 1pm and marathoning The Simpsons every day.


Here is a bad photobooth photo of me trying it on and feeling like a whimsy magic fairy princess etc. I am probably going to wear this with bows and flowers in my hair and the most saccharine things I can conjure from my wardrobe. Also I am kinda jealous of bloggers who have nice plain backgrounds to take photos against indoors, but I would be jealous of myself if I saw a photo of the space curtains on another blog.


I love kitchenware. I got an old aluminium colander (we use them as fruit bowls) and some Agee preserving jars for the 7kg of tamarillos Jack's mum sent us. The 90s sunflower-print tray was a present from my little brother, who got it from a free box at his architecture faculty. I also got red Roman sandals and a polka-dot cap, not pictured.

I wrote this post last week but without a card reader I couldn't upload photos. Today I had my first ever shift at the opshop! Here's what I brought home with me, for $2 total cost...


This gorgeous print, titled 'Vermont State Flower' (which Google tells me is Red Clover) from 1970. The artist's name looks like Harry Evans to me, maybe. It's a bit rumpled so I got it for free, and I'm gonna put it up on my wall with drawing pins- poor man's framing.


Lovely editions of some of my favourite childhood books, and a biography of Alexander Pope.


These are my favourites, they're 1948 editions and were given to someone named Rachel from her aunt Dorothy for her birthday. I wish there was the whole series. I'm working again tomorrow though, so who knows what I'll come home with. When I told Jack I'd got the job (well, not-really-job) he said 'so, the hoarding begins'.

Bonus non-thrifting photos...



We went up to the big mountain in the middle of Wellington, Mt. Victoria, and met a fat cat. The end.

July's favourites

I've never really thought to do this before but I've seen lots of things I've liked around the internet lately, so here's a round-up of clothes and outfits from my favourite blogs of late:


Amazing approximation of a 1940s suit by Camelias and Crinolines



Bright colours and smart combinations by Kelly from Made By White.


Yellowstone on medium format by Katie-Louise Ford.


Embroidered 1950s velvet pants on Naked Cowgirl Vintage.


A raspberry beret by Street and City Photos


A perfect vintage suit by Zoe from Vagabond Language


Seafaring with Black Swan's Pond


Vintage florals by thrifting goddess high socks

Wonderful cats-eye glasses by Milk Teeths.


Jelena's perfect fringe on Toronto Street Style

Judging by this I'm really into longer-length circle skirts lately. I was actually gonna make a post of my latest AWESOME opshopped finds today, but Jack spilled whiskey on my card reader so that is not happening. May this suffice until I can nag him to get me a new one.

Nostalgia

At the beginning of this year both Christie and I were contacted by an online magazine that seemed pretty legit, asking us if we'd like to be contributors for the May issue. We were chuffed, and diligently wrote our pieces, and emailed them through, and were never got back to by the editor. Maybe our writing sucks, or maybe the next issue never happened and their website, suspiciously enough, hasn't been updated since March, so I guess our pieces are never gonna be published in the magazine that shall remain nameless. So here's mine. I was asked to write on my style icon.


I remember, very clearly, thinking about this question for a long time before I asked it. I must’ve been 6 or 7 when I asked my mother ‘what was before the “Olden Days”?’ I can’t remember her answer, but she was the oracle, and I’m sure whatever she had to say moved me deeply at the time. To my tiny brain, the notion of old-ness was totally blurred, an unsure mash of what I’d learned from old books and visiting a local ‘heritage park’ obsessively. The Olden Days represented some elusive concept I’d conjured from very little evidence, but I obsessed over it for many years, a little unnerved by the fact I could not access it fully. I, over my childhood, decoded the decades and centuries into some semblance of accurate chronology, but remained obsessed with notions of past lifestyles and cultures, especially those of the 20th century. It’s odd to ponder that question in relation to what I’ve become at age 20. My love of vintage now goes beyond simply wanting to dress nicely- I want to be fully immersed in beautiful old clothing all the time. I dream of serendipitous thrift finds, and I am instantly drawn to others who visibly share my passion for retro.

With the wiseness of retrospect, I can deduce that I was fated to become who I am today, and it’s closely tied to the identity of my mother, who I’ve always thought of as an older version of myself. It’s been in my blood since my before I was even imagined, when my mother was a young’un in rural New Zealand being raised by her own mother, a woman with no regard for nostalgia, nor frivolity, nor fashion. Unmoved by the prospect of dressing five children under the age of 10, my grandma was given bags of clothes that friends’ children had outgrown. Much to the horror of my uncles and aunties, these were always a decade out of date. The few remaining family portraits of the seventies depict a group of squinting children with wonky hand-cut fringes (which must also run in my blood) in geometric shifts for the girls or high-waisted shorts for the boys, all made from matching fabrics. They consistently looked like terribly unhappy little Von Trapps.

I also have a huge bank of stories from my mother about childhood toys thrown into the dump and burned family photos- too many to pick an exemplary one, but I’m sure it is understandable why my mum resisted this unsentimental attitude. She credits this theme in her youth as the origin of her own slightly-amusing inability to throw anything out. Recently cleaning out the mezzanine in the garage of our family home, we found too much junk to chronicle, beginning from when she left home at age 17. Amongst the detritus I unearthed one of her old teeth, which is now a rather fetching necklace on a sterling silver chain, and the only garment she’s ever sewn, a beautiful eyelet blouse that she made in Home Economics in the early seventies. At age 10 I started wearing the sterling silver watch she was given for her 10th birthday, and now I wear one she bought for herself in her early twenties, in her first flush of freedom in the big city. I can use these as tools to summon or draw parallels between my life and hers. Perhaps my love of vintage comes from a strange, misplaced guilt regarding the lost relics of my mum’s youth, a desire to tap into what she was doing or wearing or wanting to be at my age. Perhaps I want to preserve everything possible from my own golden days, hoping to pass them on to an equally-retrospective offspring one day.

I believe I’ve inherited this intense sentimentality I have from her, and I struggle hugely with the concepts of minimalism and downsizing. The nostalgia I experience through the medium of vintage clothing rarely lapses into idealism, perhaps due to my childhood spent pestering my mother for more stories about her own tough one. I know the stories, second hand but still so real, of the chill of winters spent on the farm in too-small coats and holey woolens. The sixties and seventies were not ‘a better time’, just a different one. In an unconventional way, my mum equates to my style icon, my biggest influence, and the reason I adore vintage in the all-consuming way I do. I should really thank my grandmother for giving her duchess lace wedding dress to the Salvation Army a few years after its purchase, and for throwing Mum’s koala toy on the bonfire, and for the decades of family photos rotting under the old cottage, still on the farm.

Some photos of my mum and her siblings from their childhood, scanned from slides by my Aunty Shelley:

For Sale Part 1:

Here's a couple of things I am very reluctantly parting with. If you are interested please email me at georgianess at gmail dot com for more information or to make a purchase. First in, first served. I take Paypal or NZ bank deposit (or even cash if we live in the same city!). Shipping is not included in any of the prices. will ship to anywhere in the world, just ask for a quote and I'll do my best. All of these will be roughly $6 to ship within NZ, tracked post.

These photos are from the original online listing I got this off. If you'd like any more detailed shots, please email me. White lace crocheted 1960s dress starting at $60



White lace crocheted 1960s dress with metal zipper and metal hook with thread eye. This would best fit an NZ 10-12 (US6-8) and someone taller than 5"1', depending on how you'd like it to fit. I bought this online off a woman who bought it for her own wedding, and I think it would make an amazing wedding dress. I intended to take it in at the sides and hem it but now that it's arrived and I see how beautiful the construction is, as well as how beautifully the hem has been finished using the floral motif from the lace, I can't stand to alter it at all. There are a couple of small age spots and a couple of places where the joins of the embroidery are broken, but this is barely noticeable because of the complexity of the pattern.

Measurements are:
Shoulder to hem: 98cm / 38.5 inches
underarm to underarm: 49cm / 19 inches
Length of sleeve from shoulder seam to cuff : 55cm/ 21.5 inches

Cause this is so gorgeous I'm not sure how to price it, so if you are interested please email me (georgianess at gmail) with offers over $60NZ ($46AUD or $48USD). This one will go to the highest 'bidder'.

Ruby Boutique 'Gloria' dress in pale pink (NOT the blue of the second photo), size NZ12 $45


This is meant to be a little slouchy because of the style- I am an NZ10 and this fits me nicely. Side zipper, textured swiss dot fabric, unlined bodice and three-layered tiered skirt. This was $310 new and I have it in two colours which is difficult to justify. My pink one is packed away at the moment and I am temporarily unable to get it out, but I can have it out by tomorrow if you'd like to buy it/see photos of its actual colour.


Plaid 1980s flannel jumper dress. $10


Awesome warm flannel plaid/tartan checked 1980s jumper dress. This is made of a really lovely warm fabric and is great for winter, but the drop-waisted style doesn't suit me. It measures 47cm / 18.5 inches from armpit to armpit.

George Hess originals 1950s plaid day dress size NZ12 $30



A 'George Hess Originals' autumnal 1950s day dress with full pleated skirt and double-breasted buttoned bodice. This is a really flattering cut and an amazing genuine fifties dress, I just have too many of them. It measures 53cm / 21 inches from armpit to armpit.



1970s paisley midi skirt $25



Gorgeous longer-length 1970s burgundy paisley skirt with button-up front and pleating. The waist measures 37 cm / 14.5 inches across lying flat, but this has been taken in at the sides and could easily be let out. The colours are much more vibrant than the photo shows.

Pierre Cardin stripe sweater $15


Cute striped blue, white, black and yellow knit sweater. The label has been cut out but the embroidery at the chest reads Pierre Cardin. This is probably made for boys but anybody could wear it. The knit feels like it is partially composed of wool. It measures 48cm / 18 inches from armpit to armpit and has a slightly cropped fit.


Dark red chevron sweater $15


Gorgeous dark red vintage made-in-New Zealand sweater with chevron or arrow shaped pattern in the front. The label is Bonds Knits, which used to be a subsidiary of what is now Bonds the underwear brand! The label says 70% arylic, 30% wool and it's nice and soft. It measures 48 cm / 18 inches from armpit to armpit. The colour is a darker reddish-pink than what is shown in the picture.

I am also selling my bike. Please email me if you live locally and are interested in a gorgeous pink and blue Healing Super City retro bike.

Thanks for your support! When you see what I want to buy with these profits you will die.