Mists and mellow fruitfulness

Slightly, almost imperceptibly, Autumn is creeping in. It's still warm and damp, the days are still long but the light is changing just a little. The summer fruits are growing less common at the grocery store, the flowering plants are a little thinner. 


Nothing particular happened today. I wore comfortable Sunday clothes and found it difficult to focus on how to display them. 

 I need to clean out the top shelf of my wardrobe. 

And dust the dressing table. 

And clean the mirror. 


But back to the task at hand: shoes and jewels: 

The top/tunic/dress is from the sale rack from a local hippy store. The jeans are J Brand and the green cami is from Target (in Sydney). On my feet we have Birkenstocks and Opi's Cuckoo about the Colour on my toes. There's a french scarf clip attached to a silver chain and my sybils on the longer chain. My wedding ring is on that chain too. I always wear the sybils when I travel on planes. I figure that if there is a tragedy they could use them to identify me. 


On Sunday I read the weekend papers, fold washing and, should I go out, carry a big bag. This one is co-production from Liberty of London and Jigsaw (Australia). 

I love the fabric. So pretty. 

And there's the groceries. I make a concerted effort to take my own lunch every day and my kindly spouse looks for suitable, unexpected ingredients to prevent feeding-boredom. This week is was relishes, a new olive oil to use when saute-ing vegetables and some rose petal jelly. 

Rose petal jelly! I had no idea such a thing existed. I summonsed my finest, freshest sour dough to learn more. 

Nice, but sweet. It needed a balancing flavour. 

Peanut butter - perfect. Rose petal jelly is certain to keep this week's eating interesting. Bonus: it contains real rose petals. They're surprisingly chewy. 


Lunch tomorrow (and Tuesday) features roasted beetroot, parsnip, swede, onion, potato and sweet potato and a specil guest appearance by some vegetarian sausages that are made from beans and grains. I've had a sneak preview and they are scrumptious. 


And that's it really, except for Kate, undertaking her ablutions on the window sill. 

I hope you all have a lovely start to your week. 

It's a theory, not a disability

There's lots of talk of feminism on the lady blogs at the moment. I see many bloggers defining feminism, shaping it, putting their own blogs in context amidst the definitions of feminism. 


It's all very interesting. I don't use my blog for airing my political views but tonight I thought I might. 


I'm not just a feminist, I'm a rabid feminist. I'm am entirely humourless and immobile in my views when it comes to women's rights and equality. Regrettably I don't have anything interesting to argue or or any level of analysis that hasn't been splayed and  dissected a thousand times before by persons more clever than I. 


However, I've been a feminist for a long time and can share some handy hints for those amongst you who might like to be a feminist. If you already are a feminist, you might wish to disagree with my points. I welcome all views. I'm running a broad church here and welcome any discourse. 


If you agree with me, you might just like to look at the pictures. 


*Read  A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf. It's an essay and it makes a very salient point - that basically a woman needs her own space and her own income. With that she can achieve a lot. This piece is written expressly for women as writers, but I think the lesson is valid for women in all fields. 

Reading is a powerful tool, Women who can read can learn about their health, make informed decisions about legal and spiritual matters, find employment, use their money wisely. Consider giving to a charity that supports literacy programs. If money's tight, see if you can spare an hour or so a week to help teach literacy skills at your local community centre. 


* If you live alone, you do all the housework. If you share a home, you share the house work. This is never as easy as it sounds. Men hate housework and rightly so - it's tedious and never ending. I have a theory that men climb mountains and risk frost bite and avalanches, travel to places like the moon and embark on journeys around the world on solar power mopeds to avoid house work. It is also my contention that they have structured the world's commerce around the 9am - 5pm period because that's when the bulk of house work gets done. This is why it took so long to get equal rights in the work place. Men didn't want women there because it meant the house work wouldn't get done and they might have to do some themselves.. Tough luck, gentlemen. You have to share. There is no argument. Go pack the dishwater and while you're up, fold the washing. 

Here's our laundry, drying inside while it Sydney is drenched under March rains. My husband sorted and washed. We'll both fold. I'll iron tomorrow while he gets the groceries.  The respect he pays our home and me makes my heart sing. 


*Don't waste time with faux-feminist arguments. Example: should the toilet seat be left up or down? Answer: Who cares? If you leave it up, I'll put it down myself. Same things goes for opening doors, giving seats on buses and laying your coat in a puddle. They're nice gestures but they aren't going to help any woman who's hitting her head on the glass ceiling. I don't have time to waste on whether or not men realise women might use the same toilet and might not want to sit on Arctic porcelain. Gentleman, we need your help and support in many more important areas like equal pay and safety for women at night.   

And speaking of toilets reminds me that everyone should have a glass of hot water with the juice of one lemon first thing every morning. Its a good way to rehydrate after sleeping and especially beneficial for your liver. A healthy liver means a strong, empowered woman. Chin chin. 


*Take time to consider all the unpaid labour that women have contributed to the world. It is worth billions. Image how much a team of management consultants would charge to wash, cook, clean and raise three children. 

This bag was made entirely by hand by a woman in her fifties. She made it to sell at a church fete. How much was Fendi selling their needlepoint bags for last year? $3000? 

She didn't miss a stitch. 


*Feminism is a political theory. Its tenet is simple - that men and women are equal and therefore are entitled to equal rights. There's no rules to what kind of person can subscribe to feminism: feminists can shave their legs, grow avocados, breed ferrets, paint chapels, drive tractors or unicycles, wear ribbons in their hair, own jewellery, decorate their house with amber bowls, cast iron cats ...

...and little twee wooden birds. They can collect stamps, horde tapestries, carve likenesses of 1950s film stars from small pieces of soapstone, make soap, construct scale models of Georgian town houses from matchsticks, ride horses and  maintain a pointless collection of old coloured bowls. 

They can also have too many magnets on their fridge. The point is, there is no look, type, personality or descriptors for feminists. They are simply people who believe men and women are equal, much the same way socialists (who believe all wealth should be distributed evenly and the all services provided by the state) or capitalists (who believe in privately enterprise unfettered by competition from free state services) don't have a look or give off any signals. Incidentally, feminists can be socialists or capitalists too. They can also be evangelists, anarchists, traditionalists, fundamentalists and fahionistists. 

Feminists read (and write for) women's magazines. Note: they don't always agree with them. 


*Look after yourself. Get some exercise, maintain an a regular bathing schedule and eat lots of nourishing food. These kinds of seemingly bleeding obvious suggestions are actually huge privileges for women in poorer countries so count your blessings every day when you're having a run, eating a good breakfast or having a hot shower with nice soap. Lots of women can't. Lots of women will die from not being able to eat, keep clean or exercise. 

And yes, feminists can wear flowery trainers. I bought these Liberty Nikes precisely to make this point. Whenever I wear them I wonder about the woman who sewed them. Did she get to have breakfast? Was she allowed to have a lunch break? Were her kids okay while she worked twelve hours a day? 


You can make your point a different way. There are lots of ethical sellers trading on line now, selling goods they have bought for fair trade prices or manufactured using labour that is treated fairly and paid properly. Oxfam is a good start. 






So there you have it - a Shilling's worth of a feminist manifesto. Was it helpful? 

Satellite dressing

Do you have spare shoes in your office? A spare cardigan, or a handy shawl to pop on in case the air condition causes glaciers to pass through the corridor? 


Lots of women at my work have mini wardrobes stashed in their offices. You have probably gleaned that I work in a large legal organisation. This means the great majority of employees are regularly in court. Ergo - lots of charcoal, grey, strict structure and high heels. These clothes look great but they aren't always comfortable. You can't go for a walk at lunch time in vertiginous heels. You can't go for a big girly lunch down at the excellent cheap provincial Chinese cafe in a tight pencil skirt and white silk blouse. (Well, I can't. I would come back with a skirt that resembled a too-tight bandage and a bouquet of audible chili stains spattered over my bosom.) 


So there are lots of little satellite wardrobes throughout the building. Under some desks you'll find a selection of heels because the occupant wears runners to and from work. In others you can open the cupboard to find a barrister's gown and three suits. One very active person runs to and from work with a trip in the gym in between - they have a full rack of their work clothes just behind the door. 


I love the organic work wardrobes. Mine's limited to a shawl (our inconsistent air conditioning causes a lot of penguin temperatures in my corner of the floor) and some shoes because I love heels at work ...

...and I really like to walk home too. 

Any colour but

Maroon is not my favourite colour, which is a pity because it is a noble shade that can be blended to great affect with other neutral and primary colours. 


It was the colour of my school uniform and I wore it, pleated and belted, for my six years in high school. I wore a maroon beret, maroon tunic and a maroon tie against the incongruous backdrop of a fawn blouse and cream tights. 


I can say with confidence that I haven't worn maroon since I sat my final matriculation exam. Except this, which I love. 

I think she warrants an exception. 


What colour don't you wear? 

A miracle of rare device

The colour red always makes me feel better. This dawned on me this afternoon when I was staring in abject sadness at my bloodless brown pinstripes. Don't get me wrong - I love this dress - 

but it would look better with a little starburst of red somewhere. A pendant maybe, or even a red cardi.  The dress is a very handy pinafore (with pockets! Love pockets) from Veronika Maine, the cardi is a wonderful knit of cotton and a bit of cashmere by Saba and the identity/security tag was issued by the nice guy in Human Resources. But no red. 


The thing is, I don't have many red separates. A couple of skirts and a trench coat, maybe a scarf, but that's it. Accessories though - well, that's a another story (or a fairly plausible segue). 


This is the stopwatch Gucci, named on account of its clasp. 

The clasp opens like a little watch. Apparently they did a whole range of these in the early eighties. This bag, as you can see by the light scratches, is used frequently. She's perfect for carrying a lippie, my wallet, a phone and my ipod if I'm walking. I love putting my hand inside that trapeze shaped torso. 

It's soft as a bunny's belly. And it fits nicely over my shoulder. 

While the strap is detachable, the shape doesn't let itself to a clutch that is easy to carry. But as little tomato coloured, cross-body worker bag to supplement a big shopping bag when one is flea marketing  - perfect. 


And the colour always makes me happy. 

Things that make you go missing

Apologies for the gap in blogging. On Friday night the breaking news woke the ghosts of my career past and I was glued to television, watching news of the Japanese tsunami until I cold bear it no longer. Other things kept me at bay over the weekend, including some unexpected human drama on Sunday when one of my cats brought us home a rat. 


The rat was not especially pleased and ran down the hallway to hide under some shoes. After hours of tense negotiation the rat surrendered and was taken to the lane way for a debrief and relocation. I understand the rat in question was issued with new papers and has now assumed another identity (hopefully as a rat I will never meet again).   


Normal shillings transmission has been resumed. 


Alert readers will recall I have been going on (and on) about my collection of vintage Gucci bags and finished my last post by promising a post on my favourite. This is her. 

This caramel-coloured oblong of lizard skin loveliness is one of my favourite possessions. I bought her on eBay, one of those rare purchases where the seller had not used very good keywords and few photos so hardly any one looked at (or bid for) this. I ended up paying about $25. She arrived in magnificent condition. 


I use her for evening engagements mostly and find her to be aloof and elegant. Her neutral shade goes with every thing and her gold plated hard ware twinkles under electric light. Most of the big labels used gold plating on their hardware - in those days you got what you paid for.


Despite her sleek appearance, she's roomy and very practical. Her strap can be doubled over so she sits neatly under your arm, Mary Tyler Moore style. My lovely bag can carry a full kit of supplies and you can fit photos, business cards or a phone in her back pocket. 

Her belly is lined with suede. 

She is also my most valuable Gucci, so I keep her zipped up in an old lingerie case. Dust bags, or sleepers as they are sometimes called, are not just status symbols but help maintain the quality of your bag. Dust can dry leather and - if the leather is pale- cause shadowy stains that no amount of cleaning will shift. Dust combined with moist summery air can cause mildew which you may be able to brush off, but it will leave marks on the leather.  If you can manage it, keeping your bags in a cloth covering will prevent dust damage and prolong their life markedly. Not many bags come with sleepers so I use old pillow cases that I buy for pennies from thrift stores. Old scarves or just pieces of fabric would be just as effective.  


And so, another bag. I'm depending on you to advise me if I have rabbited on long enough about the bags already. If you want to meet more, let me know. Otherwise I will make a point of wearing something colourful tomorrow. 


I have no photos of the rat, but here's the clown who brought it home. 

A flash of colour, like a parrot's wing

Today's example is one of my favourites for she ticks lots of boxes: 
*Flea market find
*Fabulous condition
*An unusual design
*Very practical - roomy and plain
*Reasonable price ($35)
*Always makes me happy when I wear it. 


Allow me to introduce Orange: 

I bought her a couple of years ago at the Kirribilli Markets in Sydney. The seller told me that Orange was bought in the United States in the late 70s but never used. (I like to think she's from Florida.)


Her long strap is detachable but she hates being carried as a clutch. Nor is Orange is interested in casual outfits; I've tried to do a dressed-down look with her many times and she just won't work. She's a at her best with heels, eye makeup and a frock. Her hardware is interesting  - the label is actually printed on a gold lozenge. 

Those nameplates are a sure fire way to pick an authentic bag.  The real McCoy will be screwed to the bag, not glued. Feel it gently, and you'll will be able to feel small bumps on the back of the plate through the leather. This works for Fendi and Prada too, both of whom fix name plates to their bags with tiny screws. Next time you see a fake Prada bag, have a look at the little triangular plate on the outside of the bag. It'll be glued on. Like stitching the bag together, this requires skill and care and is an expensive process. Fake bag makers cut costs and staff their factories with cheap labour who operate machines, not people who are actually trained to work with leather. 


Here's the Orange centrefold shot: 

I love that colour. Just thinking about this post this morning made me happy and disinclined towards black. I've omitted outfit posts for days because I've been a symphony of black. Today I wore navy, lilac and snow.

What we have here is

*a navy jacket from Von Troska's sale last year

*a silk Witchery blouse I found, still with its tags attached, in an op shop for five dollars
*a Veronika Maine skirt and 
*a Stephen Collins belt from another op shop ($3). I love this belt. 

I'm also very fond of the earrings (gold and aquamarine, another Kirribilli Markets score) and a purple pendant (Czech, from the Alameda markets). 

So there you have it - the bag that makes everything technicolour. 

What's your favourite colour  ?