Tuesday, 6 July 2010
Last week, I ventured up to Sydney to visit my co-blogger-in-absentia, Pink, and check out some of the Sydney Biennale. I came home and promptly contracted yet another disgusting illness, which must be my fourth or fifth for the year so far. I have never been sick so often before in my life. Pink, by the way, despite his year-long absence from this blog, is looking more dapper by the day. He dresses a lot like my grandfather did in the 30's and 40's. And lemme tell you, my grandaddy was SHARP. So get blogging, dude. Buy a new camera. I am calling you out of hiding.
Before the trip to Sydney and the confirmation of my status as incubus-of-various-plagues, I wore this outfit, which also happened to be the maiden voyage of one of my newest and loveliest dresses:
I get all silly and coy when other people take my outfit photographs for me.
I am wearing:
• Black rayon scarf, opshopped.
• Taffeta watercolour 1950's dress, eBay. The turquoise hem is part of the dress.
• Black wool tights, opshopped.
• Black Trotters oxfords, 80's.
• Beige SABA silk & cotton cardigan, opshopped for $12.00
It probably seems to any readers of this blog that I acquire new clothing, dresses in particular, at an alarming rate. And, well, I'm not going to refute that. I do. There has been a little talk along the fashion-blogging grapevine about the ongoing imperative to buy new clothing. I'd like to mention that this is not why I amass such huge amounts of clothing. I have always been a hoarder/collector of things that I find beautiful or interesting. Mostly clothing, but also books, records, art, suitcases, doll houses, matroshka dolls, musical instruments, my little ponies (har har) ... I come from a long line of collectors, including my parents, who hoard antique bits and baubles like it's going out of style. My grandmother had hundreds of buddha icons collected from her travels. So yes, I compulsively collect, but I always have. This blog has just always been a means of sharing my finds with a larger group of people than my long-tortured, indulgent friends!
Either way, I accept my eventual fate as an old lady in an apartment crammed with cats and fifty years worth of newspapers ...