A Change Is Gonna Come - A Style Shift

And another week races past. Do forgive my slackness in the blogging department. As festival season rapidly approaches I'm consumed with preparation. We're working at eight festivals, that's almost two months on the road. The stockroom (aka The Kinky Shed) is so full that there's rails of clothing cluttering up the dining room and I don't even know how many hours I've spent ironing this week, buying seventeen mens' shirts from the Bank Holiday car boot sale certainly didn't help. Today, I'll mainly be tackling the mending pile, it's almost as tall as me!

Recent car boot finds include an array of psychedelic linen shirts and these vintage platform shoes, bought from the original owner who wore them for his wedding on 5th June, 1976

Anyway, enough of work, let's talk about vintage clothes, my favourite subject. For years I've felt like my wardrobe is divided into two halves, the clothes I wear in India, the all-natural fabrics, block prints & earthy tones and the loud flamboyant frocks and heels I wear at home. Since I got back from my travels this time I've had a real shift in how I feel I want to adorn my body. Other than my two pairs of 1970s platform soled boots, I've got rid of all my high heels and there's nothing over 2" on my shoe rack now. I want to postpone my next hip replacement for as long as I possibly can so by throwing my body off-balance with silly shoes is just plain daft. Who needs wobbly heels when you can have a rainbow of pleasingly chunky wooden Lotta clogs?

Whilst I love the impact of my synthetic, psychedelic gear and how immensely flattering it is to be constantly asked to pose for photos when I'm out and about - it's my block printed, laid-back, all cotton clothing that recently feels more like me. Going through my wardrobe last week I ousted several old favourites - a couple of Frank Usher maxis, three 1970s polyester halterneck maxis and a glorious American 1960s psych print sundress I'd bought on eBay in 2004. Of course, unlike modern clothes, providing you bought at the right price, you'll always get your money back on vintage clothes and all six of those dresses are now on Kinky's rails awaiting new homes.

In line with my one in, three out policy I've added two new-to-me cotton dresses to my wardrobe - it'd be a crying shame to waste those spare hangers!  Looking at that vibrant peacock blue colour, I knew this maxi was quality when I spotted it listed on eBay as a Buy-It-Now or Best Offer. I was a bit cheeky offering just two-thirds of the asking price but to my delight the seller accepted. I was amazed when it turned up, what I thought was a print was actually a hand sewn patchwork skirt. I can't find anything out about the designer, Gabrielle Fouell or the Siam Fabrics Company, but the few pieces I've found online sell for £££s.....

Which is no surprise judging by the quality of this dress. Check out the contrasting yellow stitching on the breast pockets, the razor sharp collars, the covered buttons, the bi-fold cuffs and the finish on the reverse of the patchwork skirt. Can you imagine how much something like this would cost new?

This dream of an Indian block printed maxi by the much sought after original hippie label, India Imports of Rhode Island was another eBay buy. The company started in 1968 and continued trading under that name until 1975, eventually changing its name to Adini in 1977. I got this dress for good price for a couple of reasons, firstly the auction finished on a Bank Holiday when most people take their eyes off the ball and the second being what I like to call the God of Small Things factor. The dress is an XS, a smaller than average size and, as all vintage traders will tell you, titchy sizes are tremendously hard to sell. Brilliant when I'm buying for my personal collection as I'm not getting in a bidding war with the resellers!

Talking of Bank Holiday bargains I bagged both these 1970s sheepskin collared suede jackets last weekend. I was only going to buy one until I saw the price. They exchange hands for silly money in the winter months. I did intend to add them to the stockroom but I might have to keep them! I've been known to spend more on a round of beer in Wetherspoons.

WEARING: 1960s cheesecloth tunic, handmade patchwork maxi (reclaimed from the stockroom) & a vintage tooled leather belt

1970s-inspired fashion has been a thing for a while and much copied by the high street. I've taken advantage of this trend and bought the odd contemporary piece from charity shops but, after wearing these garments a few times, I've decided that they weren't such a good idea. Those half-arsed repro styles cheapen my original pieces and the quality is crap. Back off to the charity shop go an emerald green top from Zara (great colour but it had an elasticated waistband which would never stay tucked into a skirt), a ethnic print trumpet sleeved blouse (made from a particularly unpleasant synthetic), a shirred blue tunic top (in the same fabric) and a white TopShop ruffled cotton blouse which was really pretty but an utter bastard to iron. The 1960s cheesecloth embroidered tunic I'm wearing is a replacement for those four duff pieces. The fabric is gorgeous, it's been embroidered by hand and its actually hip length so it doesn't need tucking in every time I draw a breath.

One thing that never changes is my love for tribal jewellery. People tell me that they can hear me approach before they see me. Last week I joined an ethnic jewellery group on Facebook (link HERE) and spent ages scrolling through some incredible photos of women adorned in their traditional jewellery. I was most captivated by the heavy silver pieces worn by the Yemeni nomadic tribes but after browsing Etsy and Ebay realised that not only were they incredibly rare, they were well out of my price range.

WEARING: Late 1960s Pakistani block printed cotton kaftan with Lamani jewellery collected over 20 years of visiting India

SOURCE

Imagine my delight when, less than 24 hours later, a small collection of Yemeni jewellery popped up on an online selling group for a very reasonable price. Chatting to the seller it turned out that her late father-in-law had travelled extensively in the region during the late 1970s and had brought them back for her sister-in-law who had recently passed away. When the lady asked for my address she couldn't believe her eyes, her dear sister-in-law had been born in Walsall, it was almost like it was meant to be.

Not only do they tinkle like crazy, the slave bangles weigh a ton. I'll have muscles like Popeye by the end of summer! 

WEARING: 1970s pure silk Indian-made kaftan

The members of the jewellery forum are a knowledgeable lot but, like a lot of antique dealers I know, can be a bit condescending, rubbishing people's prize finds and declaring them Chinese fakes. I thought I'd be brave and ask about Mum's silver bangle on which I'd cut my teeth as a baby - fully expecting to be told it was mass-produced tourist tat from North Africa although having been a teething toddler over half a century ago, at least I knew it wasn't modern!

To my absolute shock and amazement, although the bangle itself is a generic silver piece, the disc is actually a solid silver coin from the Moghul Empire. Further investigations revealed that it was made during the reign of Aurangzeb (1658 -1707) the son of Shah Jahan who built the Taj Mahal. My mind is officially blown! I haven't worn it for ages as the bangle needs soldering - I'm definitely going to get it fixed now.

Got to dash, the mending pile awaits. I may be some time.

See you soon!