la marseillaise

The biggest reason for my absence these past few months? I went to France!

No, I did not eat macarons in Paris (they’re overrated anyway); I didn’t take a selfie with the Mona Lisa. I’m not that kind of blogger. I did wear a lot of berets, but that’s just practical for late March on the Iberian coast. And I ate my weight in bread, because of course. But my main raison de voyager was visiting my dear friend Amelia, who is working on her Ph.D in Toulon.

Now, anyone who’s vaguely academe-adjacent knows she couldn’t possibly entertain me for an entire week, so I spent the first half of my trip living out a personal dream. I stayed for three days in the Basque Country, home of an ancient culture and what is probably my favorite living language. I spent three days wandering the 12th-century town of Bayonne, eating gateau Basque and butchering simple vocabulary. It doesn’t take long to fall in love with the Basque coast. Someday I’ll return to be seduced by Bilbao and Donostia.

After three days, I took the train to meet Amelia in Marseille, which was an altogether different world. Marseille is like nowhere else I’ve ever been. San Francisco meets the Mediterranean meets pure je ne sais quoi. There were brand-new clubs abutting ancient fortresses. There was a rather nasty run-in with white nationalists and a much more pleasant one with Russian sailors (yes, really). And, of course, there was my best friend, whose love for France in general and Marseille in particular is undeniably catching.

I took hundreds of photos, most of which still need sorting. For now, enjoy these, taken in and around the Basilica at the very peak of the city.

 

she lives!

I’ll spare you the whole groveling non-pology. It’s always a little weird when bloggers do that, as though the world’s been champing at the bit for their return. Y’all surived while I took a hiatus, and you’ll continue surviving if I take another.

Honestly, I don’t have a reason other than this winter was too damn much. Taking oufit pictures was just about the last thing I felt like doing, even though I’ve braved the wind in years past. Youthful invincibility wearing off, maybe? I am, after all, turning a whole twenty-four years old next month.

But it’s (finally) spring, and I (finally) feel up to spending more than a hot minute outdoors. I’ve got some gorgeous deco rayons to photograph and quite a backlog of projects to share. Until then, enjoy some shots from last month of the 1950s Edith Windsor suit I’ve been living in all winter. One of my best eBay finds ever. It works equally well with feathered bonnets and slouchy berets, and it’s a rare suit that can accomplish such a thing!

redwool

Lately I’ve been trying to find a middle ground in my wardrobe. For the longest time I was completely bimodal: Deco Dame or sweatpants-and-stained-tee. I had almost no vintage-appropriate casual wear. This year I’m trying to change that.

Y’all know I love my feathers and lace, but I also love an element of surprise. Dressing to the max every day removes that possibility, leaving me nowhere to go but done. No way of topping myself. I attended a friend of a friend’s wedding recently and realized: I was exactly as fancy as usual. And that just won’t do. Especially since I’m getting married myself this year: how can I wow anyone if I already pull out all the stops every day? To more charitably paraphrase Calvin & Hobbes: always underpromise and overdeliver.

So I’ve been making a solid effort to don day dresses most of the time and keep my evening ones where they belong. Thanks to Old Gold‘s ongoing vintage purge, I’ve nabbed some really gorgeous, solid pieces at nigh-impossible prices. Thanks to three missing buttons, this woolen beauty went for $25. Tell me again how wearing vintage is so expensive?

I know fortune cookies everywhere tell you to eat dessert first, but I think life’s more fun with something to look forward to.

sharpsuiter

This suit was one of my best purchases of 2017. Flashy rayon dresses are great, obviously, but a black suit is something my wardrobe had been missing for years. This one fills that niche with aplomb. The details are a dream all their own: the peplum, the buttons, the luscious dolman sleeves. It’s the more sedate, more adult side of midcentury, which I’m leaning toward lately. Art Deco is still my happy place, but I’m finding that a few ’50s notes are not unwelcome.

Over Christmas I dug my old knitting bag out of my parents’ attic. I hadn’t knit in at least seven years, but muscles don’t forget. I’ve been knitting like mad ever since, and one of the results is this little neck wrap. I’m still pinching myself that I found a yarn to match my hat and gloves exactly. Pantone be damned; burgundy is definitely my color of the year.

My beloved carpetbag has finally given up the ghost. I repaired it one too many times; the material simply disintegrated. I’ve rebounded with a new one from Wish.com, which is actually pretty well made for $28. The color goes with everything, and I really like the shape. I’m fond of medical bags and more masculine caryalls generally; this one has lovely echoes of that.

Finally, my second article for Racked went up this week: “1860s Hipsters Loved Old-Timey Clothes Too“. The cyclical nature of history is one of my favorite things to write about, and I really enjoyed covering the aesthetic dress movement. I’ve got another article in the hopper for next month, too. Racked is a joy to work for.

Suit: ’50s, eBay

Hat: ’30s, eBay

Purse: Wish.com

Stole: made by me

Brooch & gloves: gifted

Shoes: thrifted

2017 best in show

All I’ve got to say, folks, is what a banner bloody year it was.

Yes, I follow the news. We’re all watching the same dumpster fire. But the personal isn’t always political; I’m proof positive of that. 2017 was formative for me in so many ways. Personally, professionally, academically, creatively — I got that much closer to my final form. This year I started museum school and finished my first semester with a perfect 4.0. I wrote my first article for Racked (which was touted in the New York Times!). I taught historical sewing at the Heritage Winooski Mill Museum and was featured in my local paper for it. I drafted a Belle Epoque walking suit and wore it to lecture at the Springfield Steampunk Festival. I got engaged!

This year was filled with feathers and rayons and fabulous brooches. With museums and Manhattans and the cutest ring you’ve ever seen. I’m hoping, in 2018, for more of the same and then some. Without further ado, here are my top ten outfits of the past year.

me-made may: gatsby’s garden | antiquarian’s creed

been a while (crocodile) | matching bricks & deco drama

red in suit and claw | pajaminated

the medieval museologist | springing forward, sliding back

oatmeal, burgundy, & life lately | mary poppins & platonic ideals

 

ringing in

I shot these photos at least three weeks ago, with every intention of pairing them with some vaguely holiday-ish copy. And then my intentions just sort of…withered. I’ve mentioned this before, and I find it holds truer every year: Christmas is a private affair. Halloween is all effusion all the time, holiday cheer bursting from every cranny. Totus floreo, say those randy Romans. Christmas not so much. Christmas is floating in a dream of brandy while you double-fist cookies by the fire. Christmas is not performative. At least not for me. I had a wonderful holiday with my nearest and dearest, and I was happy to check out of the blogosphere.

Here’s the latest, and perhaps loudest, member of my ’40s rayon family. Olive isn’t usually my color, but those sleeves and that peplum more than won me over. Next time I’ll blog it without the collar and show off the neckline details, because oof. They don’t make ’em like that anymore.

I spent New Year’s with friends down in Boston. City driving notwithstanding, I love traveling on December 31st. I love waking up in a new place on the first day of the year. If I’m superstitious, and I’m decidedly superstitious, then it’s a nice way to start things off. If the rest of the year is a dumpster fire, at least I’ll have the memories.

Dress: ’40s, eBay

Collar & coat: ’50s, The Getup Vintage

Brooch: The Vault Collective

Everything else: thrifted

oatmeal, burgundy, & life lately

Something cosmic, I can’t help but feel, knows what December means. In the past few weeks I’ve had a flurry of successes unprecedented by the rest of the year, like I’ve hit some metaphysical deductible and the dividends are cashing out. It’s a pretty good time to be me. This Deco delight is one of my favorite outfits in a long time, so it’s a fitting backdrop for sharing my recent spoils.

First, my exhibit design final came together beautifully! Technically I only had to do an outline, but I’m nothing if not #extra: I staged a whole exhibit anyway. “Shifts of Theseus: Bringing Historical Fashion from Two Dimensions to Three”. I’m planning a post about it later this month, but for now I’ll leave you with this Instagram preview. Need I even say I was heartbroken to take it down?

Second, my debut piece for Racked ran earlier this month. “The Complicated History of Hoop Skirts: This Difficult-to-Wear Skirt Helped to Break Down Class Barriers“. I first encountered this bit of social history in preparing my panel for the Springfield Steampunk Festival, and it fascinated me. I ended up writing about it for my first museum studies paper, which then became this article. The mid-19th century isn’t my usual era, but I hope I did it justice nonetheless. Also — Racked is a delight to work with, and I’m not getting paid to say so. Prompt returns and insightful editing shouldn’t be so rare in this industry, but as long as they are, I’ll praise them to high hell. Positive reinforcement and all.

I also have two articles for Vintage Dancer coming out sometime in January. They’re both about trends of the 1960s — again, not my usual era, but surprisingly fun to write.

Finally, on the pulpier side of things, one of my short stories will be published in Aphotic Realm‘s online magazine. I heard the news Thanksgiving morning, and I’ve been constantly refreshing the page ever since. I’m pretty sure Comcast has decided I’m a bot, but there’s no way I can feign insouciance about this! Getting fiction published is way, way more difficult than nonfiction, so this really means a lot. I’ll be screeching about it as sure as it’s up; stay tuned for that as well.

Keep an eye out in the next couple weeks for my exhibit post and my Best of 2017!

Coat: probably ’50s, The Getup Vintage

Dress: ’40s, Atelier Fayette

Hat: ’30s, eBay

Everything else: thrifted

red of tooth and claw

Funny how you don’t realize you’re in a rut until you’re out of it. My color palette has been remarkably confined — or shall we say curated? — lately: orange and blue, green and oatmeal, burgundy and gold. Burnished autumnal shades that look best in rayon and wool. Bright red seemed almost too garish, which is an unsettling thing to realize about a color that was once your favorite. Perhaps it’s just the contrarian in me: red is the most stereotypical “vintage” color, so of course I’ll find it passé.

But this coat had such a marvelous shoulder line and was only $35. I decided on the spot I was going to make it work, even if it clashes — and not the power kind — with most of my outfits.

And, well — I don’t believe in soul mates, but this rayon dress has me reconsidering. Such a perfect match for my red coat! The dress’s print is so busy and so unique that it would clash with a more textured topper, so the coat’s relatively understated material works great. And brown goes with everything. I bought this hat at a flea market last summer in Maine, and I’ve been eager for a chance to blog it. The collar, of course, is a winter staple.

The button on my left glove broke off as soon as I started shooting, so you’ll notice the hanging strap. I don’t mind, though. I like my shoots to look like real outfits people actually wore; imperfections help drive that home.

A happy December to you all, and a vow to blog more often this month. My semester ends next week, and I am giddy at the prospect of kicking back with hella Greek pastries. Fat with anticipation of being fat.

Coat: ’40s, Wyoming Vintage

Dress: ’40s/’50s, eBay

Hat: flea market

runcible raspberry

I don’t know what it is about pink, but it’s decidedly worn out its welcome. Ever since I stopped dyeing my hair pink, I haven’t been able to stomach the color. Too twee, too cloying, too Pepto-Bismol for my palate. This dress is about as close as I’m able to take, but goddamn can I take it. ’30s crepe in the most luscious raspberry? Check, check, check. I found it on Instagram over the summer, snapped it up immediately, and waited three agonizing months to finally pull it out.

It’ll be a short one today – I’m currently drowning in schoolwork, freelance work, and the semester capstone project that’s due in two weeks. I’m a husk of a functioning person, but at least I can look appropriately bitchin’. I’ve said this a million times, but it remains true: there’s no better way to telegraph “don’t fuck with me” than to dress like someone’s grandma. Does the chick in the feathered hat care what anybody thinks?

matching bricks & deco drama

Here’s an easy tell that I took these photos almost a month ago: no ring! Way back when, I used to post photos as soon as I edited them. Nowadays I definitely opt for quality over quantity. I’d rather wait until I actually have something meaningful to say.

Plus, who’s got time for that? I post once a week on a good week; managing twice means busting out the champagne. In addition to my full-time job, I’ve fallen right down the museum studies rabbit hole.

And my god, I do love it. I’ve always struggled with academic motivation, no matter how much I enjoy any given subject. I was worried that I’d revert to slacking, but – not so! I’m working my girdled butt off here, and I’m honestly delighted to be doing so. I think I’m so motivated because this doesn’t feel abstract for me. It’s tangible investment in a career that I very much want.

I’ve flirted with so many career paths in my life, but they all seem to boil down to this. I love stories, I love history, I love textiles. I love humanizing the past, and I love unlocking a whole world by examining its effects. I’ve thrown myself variously at writing, at theater, at costume design, but there was never much there there. Museum studies pulls it all together and then some. Everything has risen, as they say, and now it must converge.

And on a more material note, how sweet is this dress? It was listed as ’50s on eBay, but I’d put money on it being ’40s or even late ’30s. The side zip, the shoulder pads, the fluted hem – open and shut. If it’s ’50s, it’s a damn good decoy.