Anatomy of a Dress

I'm all dressed up and nowhere to go!

 I was supposed to meet a friend for coffee this morning but unfortunately her house suffered the wrath of Storm Isha last night so she's awaiting a builder and we've postponed our date until next week. 

I'm wearing an old favourite, an Anokhi maxi dress  bought from their flagship store in Jaipur, Rajasthan's Pink City, back in January 2019 along with a reversible block printed jacket from Kharibu (from whom I bought my Pre-Raphaelite moss green velvet maxi).

 

This dress holds so many memories of India, from backpacking around Rajasthan, drinking in swanky bars in downtown Mumbai & staying in Portuguese-era heritage hotels in Goa to our closer-to-home travels in Greece and Spain along with National Trust days out, nights on the town, mornings spent rummaging the rails in the charity shops of the West Midlands and those endless days spent at home during Lockdown.

Two of my favourite memories were of risking life and limb to pose on a turret overlooking the 17th Century step well in Jodhpur and of having a chat with the saffron-turbaned sadhu in a remote village in Rajasthan where he asked me if I'd voted for Brexit (the answer, of course, was a resounding, No!)

Around the same time as I bought the dress, Bollywood royalty Sara Ali Khan was snapped by the Times of India wearing it around Mumbai although sadly, our paths never crossed.

I kept the Anokhi tag as, not being used to buying clothes from proper shops, having a fancy cardboard label attached to a garment remains a bit of a novelty and I've kept it in one of my travel journals for posterity. It describes the dress as a Cotton Peshwaz, which was said to be one of the most opulent forms of Moghul clothing for women. Originating in Persia, it was introduced to India during Babur's reign (1483 - 1530) and comprises of a fitted bodice with a full skirt which fastened at the waist (mine has a side zip). Due to the way the dress was cut at the front, women were required to wear a choli (blouse) underneath, my modern version came with a black cotton camisole top.

An early Twentieth century Peshwaz snapped when we visited in the National Museum of India in New Delhi in 2019

This 18th Century Peshwaz is on display in the V&A

My journal tells me that I paid 3350 rupees for my dress (around £35 back in 2019), expensive by Indian standards but to me, it's an absolute bargain for an ethically made, timeless classic and the memories entwined within the fabric are priceless.

With temperatures below zero for most of last week, eBay photos took a back seat and, in between swimming, charity shopping and socialising, when we met Liz & Al at the cinema for artisan pizza, red wine & another viewing of Poor Things, I managed to squeeze in some reading - finishing William Morris by Himself and Hilary Mantel's Beyond Black which, once I'd started, realised that I'd already read. On the pile this week are The Final Confession of Mabel Stark and A Scandalous Life: The Biography of Jane Digby (which I'm already halfway through).

Lady Jane Digby (1807 - 1881) - William Charles Ross

I first heard of Lady Jane Digby, a notorious aristocratic beauty born in Dorset in 1807, when we visited the mountain village of Doukades in Corfu (HERE) last year. At 17, Lady Jane married Lord Ellenborough, the governor-general of India and scandalised English society by having an torrid affair with her cousin before falling head over heels with an German prince, divorcing her husband and moving to Germany. After enjoying a close relationship with Ludwig I of Bavaria, she married Baron Karl von Venningen of Munich before embarking on an affair with the Greek Count, Spyridon Theotokis. After a duel between her love rivals she divorced the baron, converted to the Greek Orthodox faith and married Spyridon. The couple moved to his family home in Doukades. After the marriage broke down Lady Jane was rumoured to have had an affair with Greece's King Otto before meeting General Christodoulos Hatziperos, hero of the Greek War for Independence, where she acted as his queen, living in caves, riding horses and hunting. Lady Jane then travelled to the Middle East and fell in love with Sheik Medjuel el Mezrab, who was twenty years her junior. The couple married under Muslim law and stayed together until her death 28 years later. Lady Jane adopted native dress, lived a nomadic lifestyle in tents in the desert and learned Arabic in addition to the eight languages in which she was already fluent. What a woman!

Lady Jane Digby in Palmyra (1859) by Carl Haag

The Kinky Shed is full to bursting after our fab friends Graz & Steve from Moseley Vintage Hub did some negotiating on our behalf and acquired a large personal collection of clothing amassed between the 1940s and 1980s and I've spent most of the weekend washing, steaming and sewing on buttons. 

I couldn't resist snaffling this groovy wool-blend maxi dress, made by Shelana of London, a British Boutique label which ceased to exist sometime in the early '80s. Obviously this is from the 1970s with its have-yer-eye-out dagger collars!

Along with the job lot, we've managed to find some cool stuff recently, weather permitting I'll try and share a bit of it with you sometime soon. In the meantime I'll leave you with William who, this time last year, was just an occasional visitor to the garden.

Spoilt, moi?

Of Clothes and Cats

 Once upon a time, I had two wardrobes, the one for my twice-yearly Indian adventures was packed with vintage block printed silk & cotton dresses and skirts, coloured with natural vegetable dyes in rich earthy shades, always ankle-grazing and never worn with heels. My wardrobe for the remaining ten months of the year was bursting with everything flamboyantly 1970s, psychedelic catsuits, maxi dresses in retina-burning hues, luridly printed blouses and voluminous floor-length skirts, mostly in synthetic fabrics and worn with jet-black hair, false eyelashes & huge platforms. 

Here I am in 2016 clad in a 1970s nylon maxi dress, opening my travel suitcase in anticipation of my next Indian adventure (post HERE).

Over the last few years, my travel wardrobe started to creep into everyday life and I realised that the joy I experienced in India wasn't just down to my love of the country but also because I felt more "me" in the clothes I wore when I was there. When Covid struck and the festivals, fairs and nights-out stopped, I packed the flamboyant gear away and, after unpacking and reassessing it a year later, picked out a few of my favourite pieces and sold everything else. I've also ditched the huge heels and the black hair dye (favouring cool dark brown) but still love my false eyelashes when I'm off out.

I got so much pleasure selling my wardrobe to the festival-goers at the End of the Road 2021, seeing how amazing they looked in my old favourites and from the eBay customers who sent me photos of them wearing the clothes that were once mine. Of course, the cash I've made has also been a thrill. For decades, 1970s fashion was sneered at by vintage aficionados and, for many years, I'd picked up clothes from my favourite era for an absolute pittance. Now the 1970s is (and I hate to use this expression) on-trend, I've been able to upgrade my wardrobe with beautifully constructed, ethically produced, top quality clothing with some of the proceeds of the vintage garments I've parted with.

Whilst most of my block printed or hand embroidered Indian clothes are vintage originals, I've got no problem with buying new (as long as the company has proven to have great ethics). Having visited several factories and artisans on my travels around India I know that the clothes are produced in exactly the same way as they were fifty years ago. 

I'd not been aware of Kharibu until I won these two dresses on eBay for a fiver each. I Googled the label and loved everything on their website. I'd had my eye on this shirred maxi dress for a while and after seeing it was reduced in their sale decided it was high time that I made it mine. They recently featured in British Vogue who wrote, Kharibu is an ethical, sustainable and conscious label, working with a team of artisans in Rajasthan to create beautiful hand-block printed clothing. Vegetable dyes, wooden blocks and talented hands are the heart and soul of every piece, celebrating thousand-year-old traditions and unique craftsmanship. Designed in the UK, created in India and produced in small batches, Kharibu offers bohemian and vintage-inspired clothing which doesn’t cost the earth.

Something else I'm moving away from is having a seasonal wardrobe. My clothes fill me with joy and I want to wear them all year round. Here in the middle of the UK, we don't often have extremes of temperature, it's not unknown to experience 15°C days in both January & August whilst heatwaves and cold snaps rarely last more than a week. Last year, after spending the first full winter at home for over twenty years I discovered that, with decent thermals, I could wear my long-sleeved cotton dresses all year long. 

My year-round wardrobe worked just fine on Thursday as it was snowing when we ventured forth to the charity shops. Pickings were slim but we managed to find a 1980s Clockhouse jumper (remember them?) labelled "Knitted by hand", a 1980s Orvis jacket and a Laura Ashley printed needlecord mini skirt from the same era. The red leather belt is another 1980s piece, made in England by The Bryant Belt Company. I'm keeping the wooden hairslide and the William Morris address book - something I've been after for ages as my current one is full. There was some menswear, but Jon's snaffled the cable knit cardi and suede Vans and Tony's claimed the merino wool jumper!

Friday was eBay listing day so I spent most of it outside with my camera. It was another cold day with intermittent snow showers but fortunately, the pesky white stuff didn't stick. Under my Dilli Grey dress (from eBay) I wore a 1970s Wolsey ribbed wool & Lurex bodysuit I bought from the clearance chazza for £1 back in the summer, Mum's Biba boots, a me-made hat and my Mascob for Liberty "Badin" jacket.

We had a visitor! I've seen this lovely boy wandering around the avenue for a while but he's always run off when we've approached him. Last Saturday he called round and ate Stephen's leftovers on the doorstep and on Friday he spotted me at the PC and sat beneath the window watching. He didn't let either of us touch him but he demolished three sachets of cat food and enjoyed some Whiskas Temptations while Jon stood a couple of feet away.

He returned on Saturday morning and demolished a bowlful of biscuits and a sachet of cat food.

How do you feel about having a brother, Mr Squirrel?

The forecast for Saturday was bang-on, with heavy rain replacing the icy temperatures and snow showers of previous days. The morning was spent repairing stuff, hand-washing and cleaning and when the rain finally stopped we took ourselves off for a long walk around the block. The Naked Generation dress (via eBay) is my go-to garment recently, usually worn with a cable knit cardi and wool socks but yesterday, it was accompanied by my 1960s sheepskin boots from the charity shop and my trusty vintage suede coat.

I made a start on my third book of 2022, another Shardlake mystery. CJ Sansom's books are mighty beasts but his writing is so good that I often power through them in a matter of days.

We had a visitor for breakfast on Sunday morning. After two sachets of food and a handful of biscuits, he sat calmly on the patio, having a wash in the sunshine.

As usual, we'd filled a bag of donations during the week and drove down to the clearance charity shop to drop them off ..and to have a rummage.

We came back with a Chaps by Ralph Lauren shirt, a 1980s midi dress, a 1980s Hawaiian shirt, an Anokhi shirt, a 1980s St Michael velvet bolero with fancy diamonte buttons, a 1970s Crimplene blazer made in Finland, a 1980s Indian cotton floral jacket, a Per Una midi dress, a wool "Hemingway" waistcoat and some leather ankle boots by Moshulu.

Amazon donates a lot of their unsold and returned stock to Cancer UK and, at £2, thought I'd give these Nooril balls a try. Made from 100% New Zealand wool, you stick them in the tumble drier and they significantly reduce the drying time. We only use our tumble drier during the winter for the bedding, everything else gets hung up on the ceiling airer in the utility room and in the Summer everything gets pegged on the washing line. I used to have some spiky plastic balls which did the same job (but made a right old racket), at least these will be quiet - and I can always juggle with them if they don't work!

If it's worth doing, it's worth overdoing! My new dress got another outing. This time, I wore it with my fake snake boots and I'm in good company, Beate's wearing hers today, too (HERE). My fake fur gilet was a secondhand find last week. The vintage Gujarati amulet & Banjara earrings were bought in India.

If you're wondering about the other new dress I've bought, it'll be having an outing tomorrow, it's our first Spoons All-Dayer of 2022.

See you soon.

Birthday Eve

 The ice was so thick on Thursday morning that I thought it had snowed overnight. Stephen wasn't keen on going outside but I'd soon warmed up after my 30-minute Wii Fit session. Supplies were low so we had porridge with bananas and honey instead of the usual fruit and yoghurt.

A comment left on my blog by Leen solved the mystery of Malachi. He's not a maimed boy soldier, he's a European Catholic child, aged between 12 -14, undergoing his First Communion. Further research led me to this photo of a boy in almost identical attire, taken in 1900 in Montreux, Switzerland.

After breakfast, Jon combined a trip to the tip with a supermarket run. I piled on the layers and took some stock photos outside. The light was perfect even though the temperatures weren't.

Thank goodness for having a blog. I trawled through the archives and found photos of me wearing some of the stock when it was in my wardrobe. Jon wondered why I was parting with so many of my belongings but I keep finding things I like even better so it's daft to keep anything that's not 100% perfect.

A local cat charity I support, the wonderful West Midlands Stray Cat Rescue Team, was desperate for help so I bought them a few boxes of cat food from their Amazon wishlist. I've been missing Frank a lot this week, as an ex-street cat himself I know he'd have approved. 

A visit from the postman helped bring some cheer. I'd won this Dilli Grey organic cotton velvet hand-embroidered Kantha jacket on eBay over the weekend. I was the only bidder. I'm not quite sure why, it's beautiful.

I spent the rest of the afternoon reading the book Vronni sent me, Rummage. It's taking me a while to get through as there are so many fascinating facts to absorb. After halloumi and roasted veg, we spent the evening watching Winter Walks with the lovely Nihal Arthanayake and another episode of The Americans. 

It was significantly milder on Friday morning as I discovered when I nipped down to the Kinky Shed to collect the sold stock that needed wrapping. After my Wii Fit, I joined Jon for breakfast and then we walked into town as I needed to collect the boots I'd left with the cobbler a couple of days ago. 

We had another mission in town, to try and find someone who could repair Jon's Dad's military knife, which is missing a spring. I never met Alf, he died when Jon was only 20. He was an accomplished athlete, a keen photographer and served as a British Army commando in WW2. Jon's got some amazing photos he took during the War whilst fighting in the North African Campaign. 

Neither the cobbler nor the watch mender could help us with the knife but I've found a couple of specialist knife repairers online so we'll take photos and see what they say.

WEARING: Dilli Grey Kantha jacket worn with a vintage hand-embroidered Indian dress, Clarks' Orinocho Club boots and a Reiss felted wool hat (all eBay), Banjara earrings (roadside stall Goa), Art Nouveau belt (charity shop)

Obviously, the new-to-me Kantha jacket needed its first trip out. I think I'm gradually turning into William Morris with my ever-growing love for handmade and beautiful things. My wardrobe is full of hand-embroidered and traditionally block printed clothes, natural fabrics and garments crafted by independent (and ethical) designers whilst our house groans under the weight of hand-blown glass, vintage textiles, colourful ceramics, antique pictures and Arts & Crafts metalwork.

Fast fashion wasn't even a thing back in Morris's day but his words couldn't be more true. 

On the rare occasion that I buy new, it's always from an ethical company where everyone involved in the garment's production is treated well and paid fairly hence my annual pilgrimages to Anokhi, Cotton Cottage & FabIndia when I'm in India, which won't be happening this winter. I'm so impressed with Dilli Grey's Ethical Manifesto (HERE) and the quality of the clothes I've been lucky enough to find secondhand that I've decided to invest in a couple of their new pieces, well it is nearly my birthday. 

Dilli Grey, organically grown cotton, made with love in India and bought from eBay

Friday afternoon was spent listing more stock on eBay followed by Higgety pies for tea. Later we watched more of The Americans accompanied by rum & cola.

After a lie-in with mugs of tea and our current reads, on Saturday morning we had veggie sausage sandwiches for breakfast and then Jon helped me touch up my roots at the kitchen table. After I'd showered off the dye, Jon locked himself away elsewhere in the house with strict instructions not to barge in (something to do with making something for my birthday).

Lady Curzon wearing the Peacock Dress - Albert Edward Jeakins (1903) 

And talking of birthdays I did some googling and decided that Monday would be the day we visit the famed Peacock Dress before it is removed from public display in a fortnight's time to undergo several years of restoration. Made from chiffon, the dress was embroidered and embellished in gold and silver thread by craftsmen in Agra & Delhi using the zardozi (wire-weaving) method. It was shipped to Paris where the House of Worth styled the dress with a long train edged with white chiffon roses. The worked panels were overlapping peacock feathers with blue-green beetle wings in the centre.

 

Lord and Lady Curzon arriving at the Durbar in 1903

It was worn by Lady Mary Curzon, wife of Lord Curzon, Viceroy of India (1899 -1905) at an evening ball which followed the Coronation Durbar in Delhi in 1903 to celebrate the Coronation of King Edward VII and Queen Alexander. We might not be able to get to India in 2021 - the first year we've not visited in over two decades - so visiting Indian treasures on home soil is the next best thing.

 

It was a gloomy and blustery day (hence the grainy photo) and I spent the afternoon reading. Later we ate pizza, drank rum and cola and watched The Americans, struggling to hear the television over torrential rain.

I was up first on Sunday morning, mopped the kitchen floor and brought mugs of tea back to bed where we lay and read for an hour or so. I stripped and changed the bed, loaded the washing machine and, after taking our lateral flow tests, ate toast and watched The Andrew Marr Show.

We popped into town and dropped off a bag of donations at the charity shop including Jon's old radio alarm we'd replaced with a secondhand DAB radio last week, a pile of paperbacks and some vintage stock I'd weeded out when I was tidying the Kinky Shed earlier in the week. We came home with a Marks & Spencer new with tags Collezione linen jacket, a Madcap, England Mod polo shirt, two vintage midi dresses (Du Marcel & St Michael) and a 1960s leather handbag with a rather nifty integral make-up mirror, all of which are destined for the stockroom.

This antique enamel and brass bowl at a bargainous £2 is a keeper. Etched with antelopes, elephants and tigers, it's undoubtedly Indian in origin and wouldn't look out of place in the Arts and Crafts interior of the glorious Wightwick Manor. 

The tube lined Morris Ware vase with stylised thistles is by A Hancock & Sons and is signed by the artist, George Cartlidge. It was made in 1920 and found in the parental home when we moved there in 1971.

WEARING: JON: Schott NYC wool coat, vintage cord cap, Levi 510s, Fat Face cashmere jumper, Clarks' boots (all secondhand)  VIX: 1970s Phool skirt, vintage suede coat, 1970s tooled leather bag (all secondhand), thermal polo neck (M&S second, vis eBay), Snag "Pumpkin" tights, now in their second year (birthday present) 

I'm not keen on shoes and only own one pair.... these!

A collaboration between the iconic Clarks' Wallabee, the V&A and Liberty. They were absurdly cheap in the Clarks' clearance sale several years ago and really comfy despite the vertiginous heel.

I'm off to tidy up as we're expecting visitors. I'll leave you with the letter my Grandma wrote congratulating Mum on my birth, fifty-five years ago tomorrow, and a photo of Mum & Dad (Jen & Ernie) bringing me for my first visit to Stonecroft, back in the days when it belonged to my grandparents.

See you when I'm a year older!