Austere tea party, anyone?

In honor of Woman’s History Month, a local vegan café held a Ladies Tea Brunch this past Sunday. When I read that hats and tea party attire were mandatory, I reserved a spot right away. Seeing as we just had a few feet of snow (and I had just watched two episodes of Land Girls on Hulu), I opted for the sober colors and warm fabrics of the 1940s.

First I had to revive this red velvet cap that I used to wear all the time in the 1980s. I removed the ratty netting and the ornamental buttons that were missing rhinestones. I then steamed and pressed it on to a mannequin head to get its shape back.

That accomplished, it was time to check on the dress, a donkey-brown wool number from the early 40s, again something I bought in the 80s and haven’t worn since.

I love the details: the gathers on the top and the pin tucks in the lower part of the sleeve, the tiny gold studs on the shoulders and triangular pockets, the gathered bodice and flared skirt.

And, ta-dah!

The dress, hat, brooch on hat, necklace, gloves, and shoes are original 1940s. I've owned all of them for decades, except for the shoes, which are a recent acquistion.

The bag was made in India and purchased on the street in New York in the 1990s. I just tucked the handle inside to use it as a clutch. The stockings are the wrong color, but I was relying on what I already owned. The eyeglasses are new prescription ones, for which the jury is still out. They did work well with this outfit though.

I had worn this 1940s coat to the point of near disintegration in the 1980s and have been on the verge of throwing it out many times. I’m glad I hadn’t. It needed a few repairs to make it wearable for an afternoon, though. I teamed it with a scarf bought new in the 1980s.

The 1940s shoes were recently thrifted from Goodwill.

The label inside reads “Wilbur Coon.”

Wilbur Barry Coon (1870-1926) and a partner began making baby shoes in 1891 in Rochester, New York. By 1912, Coon had struck out on his own and founded what was to be a phenomenally successful company manufacturing babies, children’s and women’s shoes. After his death, his son Wilbur Levis Coon took over the business. The company sold shoes under their own label to more than 6,000 retailers. An online search has turned up ads for Wilbur Coon shoes from the 1920s to 1940s, but I haven’t found any information that would indicate when the company went out of business.

I have a hard time finding shoes that are comfortable. Turns out that comfort and fit were the two major selling points of Wilbur Coon shoes. One of their slogans was “A Made-to-Measure Fit in Ready-to-Wear Shoes. Sizes 1 to 11. Widths AAA to EEE.” According to a newspaper ad from 1935, there were special in-store fitting days (probably with a traveling rep from the company) and 149 sizes were available.

As you see from all the numbers inside the fit measurements were fairly complicated.

from The Pittsburgh Press, October 30, 1930  The baby’s foot is a perfect foot. And you don’t find foot troubles in adults in tribes that live barefooted. Foot troubles come from shoes that don’t fit.

The fault is only partly yours. Most shoes are made to fit the foot at two points only – length and ball. That method is as old as shoe-making. But, why keep on wearing a two-point shoe on a five-point foot? Wilbur Coon Shoes are made to fit all five points – length, ball, instep, waist, heel?

Another sizing innovation (although I don’t know if it originated with Wilbur Coon shoes) is that samples in children’s sizes were made in clear vinyl so one could actually see if the shoe fit properlyt.  A pair sold on Etsy recently.

There are a number of advertising postcards for the company here.

I wish shoe companies offered a similar level of customization in sizing. With 149 different sizes, I was lucky to find a pair that fits as well as they do. The Wilbur Coon shoes I see currently for sale online are listed at anywhere from $40 to $169, so I was even more fortunate to find mine for 10 bucks.

The shoes alone deserve to be linked to Ta-dah! Tuesday.

Medieval me

Bill Cunningham’s Sunday video for The New York Times documents trends he notices on the streets of New York City. I got excited when I saw that today’s was “Legs of Manhattan: The gothic and medieval eras are casting their spells over fashion. Today's look of black leggings and abbreviated coats suggests men in the 1400s.”

Really, Bill, that’s the best you’ve got? Black tights or leggings and short coats do not a medieval look make. Granted there were two doublet-like jackets (shown in the still) that fit the bill, but the rest just did not impress.

As I’ve mentioned many times, I’m fascinated by all things medieval (and have been accused of having a medieval lifestyle based on my lack of interest in technology, electronics and many items of convenience). One of my first posts when I switched this blog to be about vintage/thrift clothing was about the tunic/legging look.

Some of my favorite fashion elements are drawn from medieval and Renaissance times: puffy sleeves, double sleeves, short dresses or tunics over leggings, colorful tights, lace-up bodices, talisman-like pendants, big silver rings, capes, cloaks, shawls, boots, anything velvet, earth tones, and the color purple.

Just looking through some of my pics (some which I’ve not posted before) of the past couple years, I came up with the following (i.e., without really trying):

 

If some of these outfits look a tiny bit costume-y, well, frankly, I wish life was more of a costume party than it is. It’s not like I go out in chain mail or anything. At least, not often.

I'm not in a New York Times video, but I'll pop into Visible Monday.

Panic on the streets of Birmingham

It wasn’t panic so much as shopping revelry. I had the pleasure of meeting up with Vix again and meeting Annie for the first time to participate in an all-day vintage shopping extravaganza in Birmingham. (Warning to bloggers with long hair who meet up with Vix: a quick hello hug resulted in her spectacular jewelry becoming entangled in my hair and we spent the first few minutes in a sitcom-worthy scene that had Vix and Annie trying to extricate my head from the clutches of Indian silver baubles.)

We had a few shops on our list to visit and were pleasantly surprised by finding several vintage fairs happening in the Digbeth area on the same day.

In the dressing room at Cow, in my early 1970s By Jove of California dress When I was in Birmingham a few weeks ago, I went into the shop Cow and was disappointed at the lack of pre-1980s wares. However, a more thorough search turned up this early-1970s polyester dress with its sweet print – sort of a 1970s precursor of the 1990s ‘ditzy’ prints. It also has three fabric-coverd buttons at the neckline, a detail I'm a sucker for. What is it about fabric-covered buttons that is so appealing? 

This dress has a rather fun label which I'll share later.

I know I’m not alone in being a vintage clothing label geek.  So, I'm throwing out a ‘label love’ invite. If you’re a blogger, feature one to three of your favorite vintage clothing labels in a post next week, send me the link to your post by Dec. 8, and I’ll include your label photos and a link to your post in a ‘label love round-up' post.

Here's the rest of my haul:

Within an hour of arriving in Birmingham I had found this ‘mad leprechaun’ hat with its jaunty, slightly squished tapered crown and groovy metal chain.

Late 1960s hat by Jacoll.

1970s D.L. Barron floral pattern maxi. 1970s Frank Usher polyester batik print dress with a cheongsam collar. 70s finds: Jaeger wool ‘secretary’ dress. Two scarves. Woman’s Realm pattern with a great illustration. Both Vix and Annie did well and were laden down with packages by the end of the day.

Just before I headed for the train, Vix presented me with some treasures. Knowing of my collection of vintage Pakistani bags, she gave me two small versions and a Tyrolean-type belt with star-like ornaments. Thanks, Vix!

You can read Vix’s account of the day here.

I’ve set up a Facebook page in case you want to 'like' my page and follow me there. Plus, it's a more convenient way to share interesting tidbits quickly. 

Linking to Faith, Hope and Charity Shopping's Ta-Dah! Tuesday.

Happy Birthday, A.

Yesterday was A.’s birthday. I made a cake.

Although it was a recipe I had made several times before (here,  but veganized by using almond milk and vegan margarine), baking with different ingredients and different equipment meant that the birthday cake was more like a large birthday cookie. No matter, it still tasted pretty good.

Instead of adding garam masala with the cocoa, I just used some cinnamon and cayenne pepper. I stayed with the orange vanilla icing with a garnish of toasted coconut.

We went to dinner at Carnavale, a Mediterranean vegetarian restaurant nearby. We shared our starters: ‘Quinoa, Wild Mushroom, Spinach and Chilli Cakes with Apricot and Ginger Chutney’ and ‘Young Artichokes stuffed with Walnuts, Lemon and Parsley on a bed of Caramelised Red Onions’ which were both outstanding but my photos didn’t make them look very good.

Phyllo Purse stuffed with Rosemary and Wild Mushrooms served with Pumpkin, Leek, Cannelini Beans and Basil Casserole topped with Pumpkin Seeds. The entrée was somewhat bland, but looks good in a photo. 

Even though we had just had cake at tea-time, we got dessert – ‘Chocolate Roulade, filled with Raspberries, Earl Grey Truffles and Vanilla Soya Cream.’ It looks rather unappetizing here, but it was delicious. Really.

At Carnevale.

ISDA & Co. gray velour dress, thrifted. 1970s waistcoat (which has a matching
dress to be shown in a later post). Antique Indian and stone pendant strung
on a cord (had as long as I can remember). Bangles from India. Purple tights, |
Sainsbury’s. Shoes thrifted and painted by me.

I know that the blogging platform I use is not the most user-friendly. So, I’m about to embark on the daunting task of transferring my blog to Blogger. This blog was originally on Blogger and, in 2006, I became dissatisfied with its limited customization abilities and abandoned it. Which means, luckily, I still have the Joyatri Blogspot URL. But, I need to figure out how to transfer 7 years of content without losing it all as well as transfer my domain name. After that, there will be a lot of re-configuring, re-doing tags, and fixing links. So, please bear with me, and, hopefully, the result will be a blog that is easier to find, follow, navigate, and comment on.

The hordes at the thift stores

My local thrift store is always crowded. The other day I waited in line to make my purchase behind FIFTEEN people! And prices for certain things are only slightly cheaper than they are at H & M or Target. Of course, I am glad that there are lots of people buying used clothing and other items instead of buying new. I just read a couple articles that back up my impression that the thrift stores are getting busier.

"Hard times have brought in hordes of new "thrifters" — one in six adults now shops at the stores," according to the article, "Save and Schmooze: Today's thrift stores offer more than bargains." In areas where there are lots of retirees, thrift stores are like community centers.

As far doing a booming business, it's the same in the U.K. -- "Sweet charity: why second-hand clothes shops are thriving" was on The Guardian website today.

That being said, it's still possible to find a bargain and to find things you can't get elsewhere. I'm always on the lookout for vintage patterns and haven't found any at my local place. Until last week.

I got this for $1.99. I've no idea yet if there is a single complete pattern amid the pattern pieces, instructions and envelopes. 

And for $4.99 I found a vintage skirt of paisley-patterned cotton velvet which I will cut up to make a bag.

I just hope that none of the hordes at the thrift store want the same stuff that I want.

Back to black?

I used to wear a lot of black. About 10 years ago, I embraced color. After experiencing the overload of color, noise, smells and general liveliness of Indian cities, Boston seemed to be a ghost town in black and white. (A friend moved back to Boston after several years in Spain. Used to smartly dressed Spaniards, he told me that it looked like everyone in Boston was wearing pajamas.)

I picked up these two black dresses at the thrift store the other day. I’m not sure if they’re keepers.

Here I look like a prim governess. This late 1960s was made by a local dress shop. It has a hand-stitched label: Signed by Gertrude Frank, Brookline. Of black polyester crepe with princess seams, the style is flattering. But even with the white ruffles at the collar and cuffs, I’m thinking it's too severe. Granted I only accessorized it with an Arts and Crafts, Ruskin-style ceramic and silver brooch (marked ‘Kensington Art Ware') and Victorian gold and black enamel bracelet.

And what is with tight sleeves in vintage clothes. My arms are probably the thinnest part on me, but the sleeves from the elbow down are so tight I can barely move. I noticed with my vintage Wallis jacket that the buttoned cuffs are quite snug, even though I have freakishly tiny wrists with a circumference of 5 inches. Luckily this Victorian bracelet fits me perfectly.

The other dress is a maxi dress with a black knit bodice and a brown and white polyester skirt and belt. The high collar and cuffs have black and white snowflake-pattern trim. Even though the dress fits beautifully, I don’t why the maker (it’s homemade) combined the brown and white floral and geometric patchwork print of the skirt with a Nordic black and white trim. Kind of ugly, no?

I'm not sure even the right accessories will save either of these dresses.

Channeling Susan Dey

I bought this vintage (I’m guessing 1973-4-ish) Leslie Fay knit dress with cream-colored collar and cuffs because I liked the print. It has a floral pattern in heathery teal, raspberry, purple, green and peach on a black background. I also have a thing for full sleeves and collars and cuffs in contrasting colors.

However, the “secretary” style of the dress, with its yoked bodice and self-belt, really didn’t suit me.

1970s Leslie Fay dress shortened into a shirt, $6.99, Goodwill; 1990s Max Mara vest, purchased in the early 90s, Filene’s Basement; 1970s flared jeans, free from a clothing swap; 1980s Fiorucci studded belt, $1.99, Goodwill. So, I shortened it into a shirt and ditched the ribbon and belt. Now it sort of reminds me of something Susan Dey would wear in The Partridge Family.

Adding this to:

Learning to sew, again

I used to sew. But, not well. That didn't stop me from hoarding fabric and vintage patterns. Now, I am going to remedy that and take a sewing class. Hopefully, I will learn how to fit a pattern instead of making clothes that don't fit.

The long-sleeve, to-the-knee dress pattern from 1972 will be my project for class. For the fabric, I chose cotton in a dark, allover print to hide mistakes I no doubt will make. And the fabric was inexpensive, just under $9.00 for almost 3 yards. Wish me luck.

Wrap-up of time in London, Part 2

In my last week in London, I made it to the only charity shop in which I’ve actually found interesting clothes at reasonably inexpensive prices (for London). I’m not saying which one it is.

Found this Desigual long-sleeve top. I was attracted to the muted color and, at first glance, the pattern reminded me of tracery of medieval stained glass. On closer inspection, it is actually graffiti, stars, cars and the words, “slow down.” Shows you where my head's at. I plan to medievalize it anyway by pairing it with my puffy sleeved, scoop-necked heathery brown t-shirt (purchased at TRAID in Camden Town last year).

I also found an actual vintage shirt. This lovely homemade 1970s blouse has a pattern that has a sort flowy Art Nouveau pattern with a touch of Egyptian-style Deco in the flower frond motifs.

I had to fit in lunch at Food for Thought, a veggie restaurant in Covent Garden that’s been around since 1974. I ate here all the time during my frequent visits to London in the 1980s and 90s.

Also had to say hello to some of my favorite artworks at the Victoria & Albert Museum, including this late 16th-early 17th-century sculpture of Nandi. He’s got such a sweet face and I love his jewelry.

My last evening in London, my Man told me to dress up as were going somewhere nice for dinner. I didn’t really have dressy clothes with me (and I don’t really own them anymore), so I cobbled together this outfit – a 1980s purple burnout velour dress (charity shop in Cambridge), red tights (on sale at Sainsbury’s), early 1990s Anna Sui red shimmery jacket (Filene’s Basement), my recently purchased blue hat, and the necklace I got for my birthday. (Sorry for bad photo).

I wanted to check out a new vegan café under the train tracks in London Fields so I took my laptop and set up shop that afternoon at Happy Kitchen. Before I gave my order to the young woman behind the counter, she said, “I love what you’re wearing!” Definitely made me feel good about my wardrobe choice for that evening. And the tea and ginger-infused flapjack also made me feel good.

Dinner was at Benares, an upscale Indian restaurant in Mayfair, that had yummy cocktails and mocktails. The clientele wasn’t that dressed up, so I was just fine. Food was very good, but for the price, my Man and I could have eaten dinner for a week at our favorite neighborhood dosa joint.

Bye-Bye London. See you soon.

Wrap-up of time in London, Part I

My last weeks in London went by in a whirlwind. Highlights were:

Judy’s Affordable Vintage Fair at Spitalfields Market. No real bargains, but, yes, it was more affordable than what I had previously seen in London.

I got a lovely blue hat.

And, a flower barrette.

Went for an 8-mile walk in Folkestone, along these cliffs. Thankfully, it was a gorgeous day. I don’t think I’d seen the sky this blue in weeks.

In walking gear. The previous week I finally found comfy vegan walking boots, made by Merrell. Best of all, they were on sale. And the striped long sleeved t-shirt I got at the London Vintage Kilo sale was the perfect shirt under my lined weatherproof jacket.

More highlights to follow.

Vintage Kilo Sale, London

I went to the Vintage Kilo sale in London several weekends ago. I was curious to see how it compared with Dollar-a-Pound in Cambridge, MA, where I was a frequent visitor in the 1980s. There are many differences that make the Vintage Kilo sale nowhere as much fun as the Cambridge event. At the London event, clothing was 15 pounds per kilo. (roughly $11 a pound), and all the clothes were displayed hanging on racks and accessories were on tables. I wasn’t that impressed with the offerings. The only true vintage items I saw were stained and ripped.

Many still had their charity shop tags on them (like I want to buy stuff that doesn’t sell at a charity shop.) This 70s dress I'm examining had a great print, but was in rough shape.

At Dollar-A-Pound, clothing and other textiles were literally $1 for a pound. One day a week, I lined up with all the other insane bargain hunters at 6am. Once the doors opened, each rabid shopper ran inside, grabbing large plastic trash bags on offer,  to where several  850-pound bales of clothing and textiles had just been  cut open. You grabbed whatever looked interesting and threw it into the bag.  Within minutes, we were all walking on top of textiles piled 2 feet deep.  After a couple hours, each person retreated to some corner and sorted through their bags.  I found incredible vintage treasures – Pucci dresses, Yves St. Laurent sweaters, 1950s barkcloth curtains, and more. Those were the days.

The current incarnation of Dollar-A-Pound  is called By the Pound since the price has gone up to a whopping $1.50 a pound. Now, it’s every day of the week, with the price still $1 on Fridays. Here are some photos and a little history on Dollar-A-Pound.  I don’t know if anything good can be found nowadays. I’ll have to give it a try again.

I bought five items, slightly more than a kilo, but I was only charged 15 pounds. I'm not thrilled with my finds, but didn't want to leave empty-handed. My take included:

Too big, but I really like the teal and lilac paisley-like pattern on the dark purple background. Plus there are sparkly designs printed on it to give it a little Bollywood touch. The slit neckline appears to have been sewn closed. I’ll figure a way to resize it. By Ara Modell, W. Germany. I’m guessing 1980s.

1970s polyester dress with a cartoon-ish blue, pink, green and white floral print. Also too big, plus the elasticized bodice and cuffs have lost their stretch. I doubt I’ll re-do the elastic, so I’ll probably cut it up to make a skirt. Another German dress by VEB Jugendmode Oranienburg.

Polyester red shirtdress, which My Man declared "hideous." Not sure what I’ll do with this.

Modern brown and white striped, long-sleeved t-shirt.   I’ve never worn horizontal striped tops, but will mix it with prints for a 70s feel.

After all that bargain hunting, it was time for tea and cake.

In quest of a pair of sneakers, I braved the throngs of post-holiday shoppers at the Westfield Stratford City mall today. I also picked up a pair of gray boots  that were on sale. It is so hard to find vegan shoes or boots, I've taken the tactic of buying them when I find ones that I like, that fit and that I can afford whenever I find them. (Plus, it seems to be the case that for every 4 pairs of shoes I buy, only one ends up being comfortable enough to wear with any regularity).

The best thing about the mall was this video celebrating 100 years of style in East London that was made for its opening. The video made the rounds on the internet a few months back, but I don't tire of watching it. I only wish that it was a bit longer so I could really see the clothes.