The shirt is Country Suburbans, a ruffly top for the peacock print of the skirt without a label. I found the skirt at Bittersweet in Charlottesville, Virginia (the owner has a wonderful eye for vintage that she mixes into new pieces).
Plumes call for heels, and these are by L.A.M.B.
And even though you’ve told me you like to see my face, this blog is really all about the clothes; I like the the way the magenta comes forth in the fabric in the darkness—
I’ve been saving this one with a Saks Fifth Avenue label on a fabric of grey and electric pink from, I think, the ’60s.
To be more accurate, I would wear a low-slung belt; for now, it’s my usual empire waist. The vintage silver hoop earrings are from the same period.
Tonight, I’m going to an Underground Food Collective dinner in Brooklyn with friends that have traveled here for the occasion—Hot pink fabric and meats are this Friday night.
This dress doesn’t have a tag, but I like the way, from a distance, this is a dress from the past (the ’70s angles, the ’80s dotted swiss overlay) belted into the future.
The bottom of the dress is pleated strangely for any decade, and I may try a petticoat underneath to emphasize the shape in warmer months.
The dress isn’t vintage (it will be vintage of mine to pass down), but the blue earrings (for the blue moon last night) are, sparkling beacons from the Hip Zipper in Nashville, TN.
The hat is also vintage, from the Brooklyn Flea. Here’s to 2010—
A few years ago, I wore this Leslie Fay dress to a meeting at PBS (I was the Associate Director of Online Content and Social Media at PBS HQ then) and the director of the large project we were working on paused the meeting to comment that the dress print reminded her of (John) Cheever.
Here’s the print itself (maybe the horses made it a nostalgic print for her? I think the figures look Eastern European) and the belt with its fringe that looks like a window treatment end:
and earrings from even earlier (1942 London) that began as horseshoe buttons:
a chronicle of vintage dresses from kthread.
dedicated to my grandmother.
