{details}

{kenzo}

It's love.

{cheap glitter}

I suppose the thread in this post is treasured things that may have no monetary value - and indeed, don't pretend to - but carry a meaning and significance in the eye of the wearer or owner. One man's rubbish is another's treasure. So here's to your grandma's collection of cheerful synthetic scarves, jewels carved of wood and the joys of sparkly cheap gold glitter!

{people}

{raspberry mornings}

The dress above is by Swedish label Ewa i Walla.

It's that funny time inbetween winter and spring that presents a bit of challenge to ones wardrobe. I for myself, anyhow, that by this point I'm ready for a change from my winter usuals. The trees near where I live are bursting in pink blossoms and the skies allude to future blue skies! But a warm scarf and thick tights are still very much essential. So here are some inspirations in keeping warm but looking ahead to raspberry mornings and cerulean afternoons.

Blue clutch bag from Article 22, the Somewhere range by La Redoute, the Date in Beige by We Wood Watches, 18th century smock with Swedish Hasbeens as worn by Han Picked, Swedish Hasbeens as worn by Ellenitza.

{black swan}

Black Swan was incredible. I highly recommend seeing it splashed across an enormous screen, and as RoRo pointed out, it's like being in the audience at the Ballet that unfolds throughout the story. With costumes designed by Amy Westcott, and the ballet tutus by Rodarte (the label created by the Mulleavy sisters), Black Swan is also a feast for the eyes. Here are some interview excerpts about the design inspirations...

“If I had imagined a dream film, this is definitely the one to sign us up for,” Laura said. “The big question was, how can you create a whole Swan Lake ballet to coincide with the modern set of this film?” But that wasn’t the only big question—the other was one few designers encounter: How can you make clothes that are ballet-friendly? “It was very technical, because everyone had to be able to dance,” Kate added. “For example, the crown—the demon Rothbart has a metal crown that’s made with horns, and the Black Swan has a metal crown in chrome. That was a big debate, whether they could wear them as dancers.”

But necessity was the mother of invention. The crowns made it into the film, where they’re chillingly dramatic in its final scenes—but chrome they’re not. The Mulleavys ended up making the Black Swan crown out of lightweight copper, which they then burned to achieve their desired effect. “The crown is so coveted because it is symbolic of getting the role of the Swan Queen in Swan Lake—it’s part of this whole thing of getting the role. When it was time to do the Black Swan, that more intensely had to be linked to this demonic, menacing idea, [so] using metal became more important,” said Laura (on set with Portman, below). “Technically it was almost impossible, but we made it work.”

As to be expected, Rodarte sought inspiration in some bizarre places while designing the ballet costumes for Black Swan. "We imagined him like a mechanical bird — his breast is even padded out like a bird," Laura Mulleavy said of the costume for Prince Siegfried, which features distressed velvet with a floral embroidered cheesecloth overlay. "It looks like a spider web's taken over him ... He's like a demon." Meanwhile, Odette's costume involves a flat, pancake-shaped tutu made of white angora wool, which looks like "tree branches growing [on the skirt]," she described. Which is not very sexy, but definitely not boring either.

"We had an affinity for the subject matter," noted Kate Mulleavy. "We had never done a film. ... This would be a dream job in terms of just getting to make tutus. But, then we had, I think, something that allowed us to add to access the psychology of the film in a different way, which was understanding the darker nature and more of the twisted kind of underbelly of that world."

{darned and loved}

I discovered another wonderful Portobello Market stall just before I left for the states. I was immediately drawn to it because not only were the items on the rails intriguing, but the hangers themselves were old and gorgeous. The stall {usually found on a Friday on the edges of the covered market} resembles a Victorian rag exchange. It's full of mostly French garments that have been hand stitched, altered, patched and lovingly repaired by those who cannot afford otherwise. Or did not have access to a Primark. The results are exquisite and inspiring. Unfortunately, the stall-owners wares ore often snapped up by designers who take them apart, replicate their patterns and are then mass-produced and sold for trillions. Not really in the spirit of the original wearers and a tragedy of the fashion industry. But if you too love these one-offs - and one-offs is how they should remain - then pop along and visit this last gem of the rag-trade at good old Portobello. I wish I had taken more photos, but this piece particularly inspired me. Hope you like.

{circus} perusal

Yes, i'm rather immersed in all things CIRCUS. It's for research, ok? But i'll admit that I was not browsing on Anthropologie for work, but instead happened to be indulging in a somewhat materialistic perusal. I'm currently looking at super technicolor 50s productions *such as below* and it's rather lovely to see the faded, knackered state the leftovers are in today. I think the layer of dust and sun faded canvas adds a layer of magic. Like attic dust. Now if only my attic contained such treasures... maybe if I buy a nice Anthropologie dress this summer, my descendants will have a nice little trunk to discover in their attic, no?

Maybe this one? I do love a good green and a flattering pattern. And I'll wrap it up in that lace throw for the trunk. For the kids. Honest.

And here's the trunk. Done and dusted.

Aw.

phoenix from the ashes

I feel moved to write about one of the greatest couturiers of our times - Christian Lacroix. The owners of his company laid off all bit 12 workers, leaving Lacroix in near impossible conditions with which to produce his Autumn/Winter couture collection. The seamstresses and embroiders chose to work for free out of loyalty to Lacroix, and the models were each paid a mere 50 euros - according to French law. Despite all of this, Lacroix has not only pulled through, he has triumphed beyond hope. His skills and mastery were all that were left to him, and is this that we see on the catwalk. His lavish, opulent creations of old are gone, leaving behind the elegant bone structure in view. Lacroix concentrated on wearability, and my goodness I would not mind donning one of his tulle evening gowns or russian capelets one jot! Despite the overall black and navy colour scheme, this is not Lacroix's funeral. Perhaps he is mourning the demise of one era, but only to come out and celebrate the new. Welcome back Lacroix!

Genius.

* * *

clarendon cross*

Last week I spent a day exploring and browsing my relatively still new neighbourhood, and found my way to Clarendon Cross - the sweet yet rather chic heart of Notting Hill. Though pricy, The Cross - a well established boutique - was delightful. I loved their Mexcian theme and especially fell in love with these super soft wool colour-saturated cushions (below)!

My own images of The Cross

I then popped across the road to Sumerill & Bishop - a French kitchen shop full of luxurious goodies like fresh table linens, cotton-lined woven baskets and horn salad spoons.

Summerill & Bishop

Lastly, I was lured across the street by a sweet little terrier to Myriad - an eclectic, eccentric interior design shop selling a medley of french antiques with genuinely, fabulously odd finds without categories - such as a chair beaten into shape from an old red car bonnet. It was here that I found my new 50s sofa. It's well worth a visit if you're ever in West London. Thank you Clarendon Cross!