Dedicated to the ones I love
“There’s so much striving for newness now that newness feels less” – Marc Jacobs
We all knew the backlash to mass consumerism was on its way. Hell it’s probably been here for while now in vary forms of capsule collections and limited editions. But it wasn’t until I read the article ‘Fashion’s Greatest Hits’ (read it – it’s a good one) featured in the April/May edition of Russh that I realized the backlash is going one step further. Non-consumerism. Not buying at all. Going without. It’s a harrowing concept isn’t it? And one that could leave quite a financial blow to the industry. But on the other hand it is a concept I am an avid employer of – I just wasn’t aware of it until now. Loving the clothes already in your wardrobe, bringing out those amazing pieces from a few seasons ago, not because they are in ‘fashion’ but because they are simply amazing, no matter what’s in Vogue. What could previously be seen as poor and thrifty is now chic. Yay me! While I will fess up to the occasional Aussie designer purchase, these items are always strategic buys – I’m not a ‘splurge because it’s pay day’ kind of girl. The way I see it is I work hard for the money and I also work equally hard to track down that current desired item – so how could I be so flippant as to love it and leave it in due time? I much prefer to love the ones I’m with.
It got me thinking about my own greatest hits. I’m well aware that they might not be ‘hits’ to everyone else, but I love them none the less. I narrowed my favs down to a top 5 – not including those sentimental items – grandma’s shawl, vintage earrings my dad bought in London for me etc. These are the items I get even more excited about wearing over those new shiny designer items in my wardrobe. I’ve loved these pieces from the moment I saw them and no new designer label can come between us.
I remember the day I bought this dress like it was yesterday. Megan, Regan and I spent a lovely day at Woolloongabba perusing the opshops. We went to the now gone vintage store Zabbar – and there it was hanging on the wall behind the counter. The crazy but lovely store owner said she wouldn’t let people try it on normally but she had a hunch it would fit me properly. She was right. It was perfect and with a quick exchange of cash this amazing dress came into my possession. I hate to play favourites but it really is the apple of my eye. I’ve only worn it a handful of times – all to very special occasions. I am yet to decide who I will leave my money and things too after I pass, but you can be assured no one will be getting this baby. I’m taking it with me to heaven/hell.I wore this floral Marc Jacobs coat in the very first image we ever put on Penylane. That in itself is pretty special. I love the subtle colours in the coat and the black piping really lifts the whole structure of it. It’s a little bit bohemian, a little bit old school, and makes me wish it was winter all the time.
When I bought this Nicola Finetti dress as a 20th birthday present to myself it was a little nerve racking. I’d never spent a serious amount of money on clothes before. I’m sure glad I did though. The metallic sheen clashes perfectly with the 100 year old lace. Up close the lace is slightly browning from age, but that’s what I love about it. Without it, it would be just be a silver grey dress. It’s that clash of old and shiny new is what makes it special.
Unlike most girls I’m still in love with my formal dress. I’ve only worn it twice but believe me if Prince Charming was to ever knock on my door and ask me to a ball – I could be ready in 15 mins. I designed the dress and had a local dress maker sew it up for me. My favourite part is the gold lace (durr) Incase you hadn’t noticed gold and lace are my two favourite things.
I bought this dress last year in a little country town in Victoria from a gypsy man’s caravan. He looked like a bikey with a long ponytail, leather jacket and a tired face – but he knew his shit when it came to fashion. In amongst the hippie sun dresses and faded denim lay this vision in gold. He told my mum and I that it was an authentic go-go dancer’s dress from the sixties and went through every stitch with use, pointing out how well it had been made. Knowing we could hardly leave it behind mum bought it for me and I’ve treasured it ever since.
Published on Penylane.com