Happy Halloween, love Kate & Alix.

This is Alix-Rose Cowie and I at the Haunting of City Hall Halloween bash on Saturday night. Alix went as a Harajuku girl and I went as a voodoo geisha. We met on the historic City Hall balcony for a photo opportunity over Sailor’s Grave cocktails to the tune of Cut Copy, surrounded by the living dead.

Happy Halloween!

Go buy the November issue of Wallpaper*, now!

A month or so I was given the incredible opportunity of contributing to the November issue of Wallpaper* Magazine. For the last two weeks I have haunting the aisles at Exclusives and other purveyors of good magazines, and it is officially out! It’s a huge honour for me to read my name (middle name included, of course) in the pages of a magazine that I associate with impeccable taste, strong writing and an appreciation of all culture.

The November issue features Wallpaper’s top 20 reasons to be in countries the likes of France, Portugal, China, Canada, Sweden, and, of course, South Africa. I interviewed and wrote about four Capetonian creatives/platforms that I think are doing things a little differently.

Get your pods on the latest issue of Wallpaper* to find out why Crystal Birch, Cindy Poole from The Summit, Jenna Bass and Hannes Bernard from Jungle Jim and Murray von Hirschberg from Enmasse are giving the rest of the world a reason to keep an eye on our country.

Velvet Crush

Topshop’s Velvet Crush boutique is currently killing me softly. I’m always a sucker for a lush slick of velveteen, and the Deco-meets-grunge undertone of the collection is oh so Stevie Nicks (Lord knows I have a considerable thing for Fleetwood Mac,too).

Midnight blue velvet brothel creepers, velvet short shorts and ruby red lace ups? My very own Gypsy-era dream.

Mary Katrantzou x Topshop

I spied this epic collaboration between high street honey Topshop and the inimitable high priestess of print play, Mary Katrantzou, on Style Bubble this weekend and it was like a little hit of adrenalin.

The collection will consist of 10 pieces and will be released in February 2012, with frocks like this tulip-shaped belle retailing for £350 – pretty much as close as us civilians will ever come to caressing a Katrantzou.

Start stockpiling those pennies, ladies!

Gilded.

Desirable new beauties by local jewellery designer Oh Dear Megan. I like the balance between the delicate chain and the chunkier geometric pieces, as well as the play on symmetry and assymmetry. Available in silver and gold from Mungo & Jemima.

Mooi.

#21stCenturyGirl: Amber Jones

Here we go – the next installment of #21stCenturyGirl!

Meet Amber Jones (if you don’t already pore over her fabulous blog), another fashion-obsessed local with a leaning towards the digital and an accessories fiend after my own heart.

Read Amber’s lovely blog / Follow her on Twitter

Teddy Girl.

My penchant for mixing masculine and feminine styling recently led me to the so-called Teddy Boys; a subculture of rebellious young Britons that emerged in London in the 1950s as a form of post-war expression. The Teddy Boys or Teds, as they are sometimes referred to, married the stylistic dandyisms of the Edwardian period with strong ties to American rock ‘n roll. The Teds became the first group of youngsters in the history of England to differentiate themselves in this way, and as the movement gained popularity, it gave way to a lifestyle characterised by rival gangsterism, sharp dressing and music culture.

The Teddy Boy getup centered around the iconic drape jacket, often bedecked with velvet collars and pocket detailing, drainpipe trousers, exposed socks and skinny ties paired with gleaming Oxfords, chunky brogues or suede brothel creepers – the exact kind beloved by fashion forward culprits like Susie Bubble today. The Ted coif – the iconic duck’s tail – was another hallmark of the era, and this symbol of rock ‘n roll attitude remains the choice of dapper modern gentlemen today.

The girls, of course, were not to be left out. Teddy Girls, or Judies, as they are also known, worked the look in drape jackets, sleek pencil skirts, cuffed jeans, cameos, espadrilles and jaunty clutches. Their style later evolved to incorporate the American influence of full circle Pink Lady-style skirts, sassy ponytails and toreador trousers. Typically of working class descent, the Teddy Girls were factory workers who spent their time making their trademark clothes and rejecting the conventions set out for them by the time.

In the 70s, and again in the 80s, rockabilly music and a resurgence of Teddy Boy styles was fueled by the likes of Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren, who added a little more glam rock to the look. Ted revivalists continue to pay homage to the original trappings of the 1950s style, in some cases driving 1950s cars, wearing only 1950s clothes, and stockpiling 50s-era collectibles.

I find the Teddy Girl style particularly alluring. I love the unapologetic stylisation of the look, and the confident statement that the women that wore it were making. I find myself incorporating various aspects of the Teddy Girl and later rockabilly styles into my look – a letterman jacket here, a neck tie there, and of course, my perennial devotion to rockabilly staples: red lips and cat’s eyes.

Over the past year or so the influence of the Ted movement on street style has been marked – duck tail coifs, drainpipe pants, wingtips, creepers, neck ties and dandy styling are all visibly popular, from Seattle to Seoul.

As blogger Cartoon Heart observes in her Resort 2012 round up below, the Teddy Boy style holds as much influence over the masculine as it does over the feminine. With unisex footwear and clothing on the rise, and the irreverent mixing of traditionally gender-specific clothing items, it seems the Teddy Boy androgyny was way ahead of its time.

Fascinating to novelists, musicians and filmmakers since the movement first came about in the 1950s, Teddy Girls are still inspiring styling today. I love this aptly titled editorial, Teddy Girls, which was shot by Liz Ham and styled by Jolyon Mason for Oyster Magazine in 2010.

It’s modern and old all at once.

All vintage Teddy Girl images by Ken Russell

Old Faithful

In my first week at college they made us do all manner of awkward ‘icebreakers’ and get-to-know-each-other exercises. You know the kind: say your name and three things no one else knows about you, or even more cringeworthy, state your name and accompany it with an action that best illustrates your mood. So 90s.

One such exercise involved us each filling a shoebox with personal articles which would then be handed over to someone else in the group to deduce things about our personalities. This particular exercise actually had me interested – sure, you’re going to put in a couple of wanky things that make you look suitably cultured and interesting, but it really is telling to note the things that people want you to know about them.

The shoebox that I received contained a single, beaten up old trainer – scuffed, with worn down soles and fuzzy laces. What did it say about its owner, Johannes? That he was unpretentious, outdoorsy and not too concerned with fashion. ‘You got everything right,’ said Johannes, ‘but you missed one thing.‘ What was it? The fact that he is extremely loyal. He had been wearing the same pair of shoes for years and had no plans of swapping them for a new pair any time soon. I’ve never forgotten that.

My own old faithfuls, my suede Country Road ankle boots, have reached a similar stage of character building. I have officially worn through the sole of the right one, right down to the ground. The veneer on the heels has been superglued back into place, the buckle straps, I lovingly refurl into place on a regular basis. They’ve been to huge rock concerts, interviews, dinners, on dates and to festivals. I’ve worn them so smooth in the sole that I routinely avoid near-spills in public places. During winter I lusted after a pair of Chelsea boots which were to become their replacement, so I thought. Not the case. Now, just before their official first re-soling, they remain my first choice.

I feel proud to be so invested in my old faithfuls. I still routinely wear a pair of low-heeled leather Crayon wedges that I bought when I was 17, despite friends and family telling me to chuck them on a regular basis. I see a good, solid shoe as something that is hard to come by. When you find them, with a little love, care (and possibly, a sense of humour), they will last you a lifetime.

Bow Peep

I allowed my blue velvet bow tie its second debut (it will be worn many times, and each time will be known as a debut) to Woodlands Eatery for dinner on Saturday night.

The blue lushnesss was paired with a vintage polka dot shirt (which has the most unbelievable cut for a shirt: full in the sleeve, tight in the cuff, slim in the waist and sexy around the hips), cuffed indigo skinnies, bondage heels, my new soulmate bag and Show Orchid by MAC lips (a touching farewell gift from the amazing girls at 36Boutiques).

I look pretty smug in this photo – I blame it on the bow tie.

Vintage Binge

This weekend coincided with payday and a visit from my parents, which meant lots of food (homefangled ginger cookies, champagne and camembert, in no particular order), lots of laughs and of course, a little shopping. My mom was already mooning over a pair of 50s-esque vintage Prada heels she had spied at Stock Exchange, so I allowed myself the indulgence and had a browse.

I walked out with a really soft navy silk blouse splashed with bright blurs of blossom. It has fetchingly drapey sleeves and I see it was a) denim short shorts and ankle boots a la Alexa or b) skinnies to work. The sunshine-yellow beaded necklace is the result of a project that employs struggling women in Knysna to create jewellery and it was a gift from my maman.

My mom walked out with the chunky little Pradas, which, we told my toe-tapping father, are an investment piece (obviously). They have a Marilyn edge to them and are truly sassy, in the good, old-fashioned sense.

Breakfast at Superette compelled us to pop in at The Cat’s Meow in Woodstock – as one does – and I found my mini bag soulmate, hip yet regal, waiting for me on a shelf amidst attention-seeking lurex and puffed sleeves. I smoothed my hands down its little leather body, caressed the tortoiseshell handle and rivet detailing, and instantly started plotting an outfit around its sleek shape for dinner later that evening. At R170.00, it simply reaffirmed my belief that The Cat’s Meow is well-priced, and that Barbara and Laura’s taste and passion for vintage sets their little shopette apart.

My mom had been telling me about a secret vintage haul she had made in Knysna last week, and when she unveiled this super retro one piece in vibrant paisley and with those truly old-fashioned breast cups, I was smitten. We marvelled that girls in the 60s and 70s surely had completely different shapes to our own, with fuller hips, daintier waists and breasts like rockets. Seriously!Needless to say I tried it on and it looked and felt great – like I should’ve been poolside in the old How to Make an American Quilt movie scenes, but it is returning to Knysna in no uncertain terms.

The final item – and a truly novel one at that – was a black-as-night kimonowith a hand-painted silk lining. From the outside it looks simple and precisely cut, but the lining is a story unto itself. A hand-painted tiger and dragon, one resting on the shoulder, the other, the shoulder blade, guard some kind of totem and a serious of foreign characters. I love the idea that the entire garment hides a secret.

A most satisfactory vintage binge.

If you’re a vintage fiend or you’re looking for something special, do yourself a favour and check out:

Stock Exchange for hand-picked designer vintage one offs – find them at the top of Kloof Street opposite Manna Epicure and Caffe Milano. Go armed with either a post-payday purse or some serious willpower.

The Cat’s Meow for a broad selection of vintage accessories, clothing and a boudoir-esque space at 210 Victoria Road, Woodstock – right next to Ye Olde Biscuit Mill.

FanGirl

I’m lusting after these glamorous, fan-shaped clutches by local label Missibaba.

They’re so Bianca Jagger at Studio54-esque, and y’all know I’m a sucker for a) all out sequinning b) tassels and c) little bags that are just big enough for my Russian Red, cellphone and keys.

Which is your favourite?

Navy & White

Navy and white – a classic colour pairing that speaks of decorum, ceremony and tradition. Sailor-style collars, lapels, pristine piping and pin tuck pleats, or glossy, embossed gold buttons, double-breasted jackets and high school honours ties…

This selection of navy on white shows that my penchant for the combination was born some time ago, and as Cape Town eases balmily into hot summer nights and blustery summer days, I find it a soothing antidote to the heat. Navy and white elevates prints and gives them an air of cool poise.

Already I find myself reaching for Breton stripes, my vintage navy maxi skirt (whose button-through cut and broad, bow-tied waist always inspire envy) and the sailor-girl dress I bought in Istanbul (an impulse purchase, and one that makes me want to fling on some stripes and a nautical hat while I’m at it). Polka dots, too, a perennial in my wardrobe, gain new coolness in navy and white.

It’s a combination that speaks of European coastlines; bright white buildings against brighter blue seas, bare feet, the whitest teeth, sensual, billowing hemlines. Wow.

Items pictured:

Cream beaded and perforated handbags, both vintage / Velvet bow tie, vintage / Striped t-shirts 2x vintage, 1x Pick ‘n Pay, 1x Mango / Polka dot tops with striped trim, both vintage / Irregular polka dot crop top, H&M / Dainty polka dot pussybow blouse, VAMP / Plaid rockabilly frock, Mango / Pom-pom hat, a gift / Sailor-girl dress, Istanbul

And some navy and white beauties that caught my eye:

Topshop

A.P.C.

Alexa Chung for Madewell

Carven

Elizabeth Lau

 

Girls.

Diana invited a group of super hot girl bloggers from around the globe, including Kate, Angie, Cath, Milli and Jessica (a mix of fellow locals and Twitter minxes) to contribute to one of her famous music mixes.

The theme? Girls. I took it as an opportunity to listen to even more of the lusty girl band rock I’m so into at the moment.

Go listen to the mix – it’s a really sexy round up!

Do we need to put a label on it?

 

It used to be that wearing clothing emblazoned with labels was cool – it spoke of value, taste and wealth. And somehow it seemed that this wealth was inextricably linked to this taste and this value. Money = taste = value. A strange deduction to make; easily dismantled by the old adage, oft employed in conjunction with a wistful shake of the head: ‘Money can’t buy you style’. White t-shirts shouted Calvin Klein! Armani Exchange! Diesel! Fiorucci! It was indeed the 90s, and the logo t-shirt was in its hey day. If you didn’t have one you might as well not have been a 90210 fan. You might as well have ditched your frayed denim cut-offs and your black choker with the heart pendant. Without said logo they’d look cheap. Like they came from nowhere. If it didn’t have a label it was nothing. 

Somehow, some way, things have evolved. I’ve started to notice less and less obvious branding gracing the chests of t-shirts and the derrieres of jeans. Absence of label, ironically, has come to signal exactly what its polar opposite did in the 90s: wealth, value and most importantly, taste. I grew up with a mother that steered me away from branding of any kind. ‘Don’t get the printed one,’ she’d say, ‘it looks cheap’. My natural predisposition towards one offs developed into a love of vintage at a young age, meaning that labels only symbolised homogeny to me. Labels were for the masses.

The gradual shift in attitude towards labels is fascinating to me. Huge chain stores are abandoning brash branding and opting for unadorned chests, sleeves and backs. Why? So that they can be taken seriously alongside other labels. So that no one knows where it came from. Is that not the biggest irony of all? In a way it is refreshing: the cut of a garment and the fabric it is made of must now speak for themselves. Cheap, ill-fitting white t-shirts can no longer hide behind big, rhinestone-studded names. Clothing must stand up and be counted.

Not only does this shift mark a change in our psychology as consumers, it also heralds a dawning of fashion consciousness that countries like South Africa have never seen before. As retailers wisen up to the fact that the masses have more access to trends than ever before, they begin to cater to a more fashion savvy audience.

In a country where value for money is an imperative, it really is a revolution. It’s a sign that consumers, collectively, expect more from brands. And that what most people are looking for is true value – unadorned, unembellished and authentic.

Your brown eyes are my blue skies.

The eye makeup at Richard Nicoll‘s S/S 12 collection – emphatic little geometric streaks of matte black; half Asian, half Mondrian – are channelling my own makeup for the weekend ahead. An exotic, iconic departure from my trademark cat’s eye.

{Don’t even get me started on the dreamy florals, hooped, Jetsons-esque skirts and lurex/PVC symphony. And, yes, I’m still obsessed with Warpaint.}

Watch the eerie, hypnotic inspiration behind Nicoll’s collection here.

All images courtesy of Style Bubble.