thrifting

Une Pomme de ma Tête

Isn’t it funny the things that we become attached to? When I look through my room, I have so many things: books, hats, clothes—the list goes on and on. And yet, when you ask me to point out the things that I would take with me if I had to leave it all behind, it’s the funny, nearly valueless things that mean so much to me. Now I’m not saying I would leave me rings and jewelry PUH-lease. It’s just some of my favorite things are quite unexpected. Take for instance this picture:

I randomally picked it up one day in a cute shop in Oxford called Arcadia (really a haven for vintage papers of all kinds). I think I probably got it because it was the only old magazine reproduction that was under 10 pounds, and yet, it has brought me so many smiles. One of my friends even referred to it as the “naked girl” picture. But that little French adventurer is more than a sometimes naked girl to me. She’s sort of my spirit animal. Well, the other day I looked at it and found myself caught looking at the white outfit. I couldn’t think if I had any hat that would be anything like hers and more or less gave the idea up. Literally, less than 5 days later, I was browsing an antique warehouse and came upon the on I’m wearing in pictures for 5 dollars. It was fate! I hope you like my interpretation.

Outfit Details: Hat: Thrifted | Shirt: French Connection | Capris: J.M. Collection | Heels: Loft

Bohemia Reclaimed

After a lovely trip to St. Augustine, I’m all settled back in South Bend for my fourth semester of law school. I’ve managed to rent a little room with a few other girls, and in my opinion, it really is the zenith of happiness. My room has a small desk, walk-in closet, and a slanted ceiling into the nook where my bed is. It’s generally the perfect writing alcove, and if I only had a little typewriter and a high ponytail in a ribbon, I think I could make a decent ’50’s French movie heroine. Only time will tell, I suppose. Anyway, I thought it might be nice to introduce you to my little nest and Bohemian hideaway. ❤

Spanish Influence

Isn’t it funny how some of the most accidental discoveries can end up being your favorite things? That’s the way I feel about this cape, and this lovely old town. As for the forner, my friend Elizabeth and I both enjoy a thrift store joke about as much as a thrift store gem. This being the case, she texted me a picture of the “ridiculous cape” she saw while out one day. My only response besides replacing my gaping jaw, was “It’s perfect.” And the economical birthday present was “in the bag.” Subsequently, this (maybe Aztec-inspired) article has become one of my favorite accessories. Paired with what I would consider, “conquistador” boots, I was ready to traipse through (and match the peacocks in) America’s first Spanish colony, St. Augustine.

I really love this city. It’s definitely had its ups and downs (something I will discuss more tomorrow), but it has retained a local flair and eccentric warmth, so that I can’t help but want to be a part of. It’s large enough to be interesting, but small enough to be walkable, and I spent this morning going to a few of the more historic sites for pictures. Hope you enjoy seeing them as much as I enjoyed making them!

Photos by: Madeline Arnall

Shared to Visible Monday

Welcome to the Link-up: Eccentric Glamour

Hi! Welcome to my link-up: Eccentric Glamour, designed to showcase forgotten, yet fabulous articles in your closet. The idea is to create an outfit once a month around some piece languishing in the back of your closet, helping us to better know what’s in our closets, force creativity, and appreciate what we have (you knew there’d be moral somewhere around here). All bloggers will be able to submit their post links via the inlinkz widget below beginning the 1st and ending the 3rd of every month. You can find more information below (or feel free to ask).

For my contribution, I wanted to show you this fabulous (and very Downton, I hope) coat I bought on a whim. To go with it, I’ve made up an eccentric backstory to match the outfit. It’s 1933. I, Mrs. Rosemary Fitz-Simmons, wife of the late grain tycoon, Mr. Cornelius Edward Fitz-Simmons, married up to gain a large fortune for myself. However, upon Mr. Fitz-Simmons’ unexpected, unwarranted, and mostly untimely death, I discovered the ledgers in disarray, and our fortune lost. Anxious to secure another wealthy millionaire before anyone discovers my secret, I have chosen to attend the opera, though still under the guise of mourning and wealth. In reality, I’ve dressed to kill under my coat and am scoping out any marriageable bachelors still circulating in the middle of the Depression. Cross your fingers I find luck!

Please add your link below so we can better meet and appreciate our fellow fashion bloggers. Here are the rules:

If you’d like to regularly contribute, please take a moment to follow my blog (links can be found on the sidebar).
Please confine posts to those which showcase some spectacular article of clothing. It doesn’t have to be crazy, but just a bit in line with our theme of “Eccentric Glamour” (although choosing one half or the other of that mantra will also suffice). However, if you choose to post, please provide a link back to the Eccentric Glamour link-up somewhere in your post.
Try to check out a few other bloggers posts to build inspiration and community!

Thanks everyone, and I look forward to a bright 2015 linking with you!

Beachy Cliff: A Romance

The British Romantic poets and writers were profoundly affected by the vision of the Swiss Alps. After the dreary slopes of the English countryside, the towering edifices were the embodiment of mystery, the promise of adventure and peril, and the unspeakably delicious thrill of the unknown. Now, their radical break from the orderly and structure-loving conventions exemplified in the Enlightenment is commonly interpreted to be the stuff of surprise flower deliveries. But rather than humming “your song” (if you’re with someone) or daydreaming about their sense of humor (if you’re not), as we stare into the abyss of uncertainty buzzing around a new year, I have chosen to resurrect the true Romantic meaning.

As we look towards the frightful and awesome unknown that is 2015, instead of approaching it with trepidation or even boredom, I will choose to see it for the huge opportunities (or obstacles) it can bring… even if the wind is an absolute torrent along the way. Make sure to take a moment to reflect on the romantic possibilities that lie ahead!

Then We Open Again, Where?

As I’ve mentioned, I’m a few weeks behind on updates from my trips (look out for Budapest and Morocco). I got lucky on my outfit here, despite the delay, since cheetah print is booming right now. I’ll try to be better about upcoming Christmas posts!

I arrived in Venice the night before Halloween. When I made the booking, I didn’t mean to plan it that way, and to be honest, I completely forgot (although people in England celebrated way more than I anticipated, adopting it as a veritable week-long festival rather than a single night). But in this case, fate interceded on my behalf. For as Romantic and dreamy as the canals and bridges are in Venice, the ambience of the night could have invented the meaning of phantasmagoric. It is no accident that Poe set “The Assignation,” “The Cask of Amontillado,” and “The Masque of Red Death”* here. Walking through the darkened alleys at night they seem to grow narrower and deeper. You pass the same bridges, walking in a circle fueled by the frenetic energy of despair, suspicion, and above all fear. Meanwhile, in glass windows all around hang ominous masks in a variety of shapes, their darkened eyes glaring eerily in the moonlight. With this collection of photos, I’ve tried to capture a bit more of the creepy vibes, but I also included just some of the general beauty of the change to Autumn which November brings.

The title of this post is taken from the song “We Open In Venice” from the musical Kiss Me, Kate. Here’s the Rat Pack’s rendition of the song. Also, while I was in Venice, I had the pleasure of meeting Louise, the amazing mind behind Pandora. To see her interpretation of Thomas Mann and the Marchesa Casati, see here.

*The exact setting of “The Masque of Red Death” is in a castle and nothing else is described specifically, but as it doesn’t disclude Venice, and the story has a Venice-esque feel to it, I included it (possibly erroneously) in the list.

It Happens to Hepburn – It Happens in Venice!

Our second day in Venice was quite eventful. Between St. Mark’s square and a tour of the Basilica, wandering through the Doge’s Palace, witnessing a full-on bread attack by itinerant pigeons, falling in love with the Marchesa Casati exhibit, and a dreamy never-ending walk that ended in a candlelit dinner, it was very full but equally fulfilling! Personally, I could have taken a few more coffee breaks, soaking in the city, basking in the sun, languorous in little cafes, but I have no regrets. There is only so much you can do in a weekend away from school!

One of my biggest inspirations on this trip was Katherine Hepburn’s performance in David Lean’s Summertime. The movie itself is rather drab, as she walks around Venice sad and single, looking for love, finds love, drags it out, and is still sad. Luckily, her wardrobe doesn’t share the same fate, making her scarves, knee-length skirts, and button-ups on point. You’ll have to see if you feel the same way about mine.

I do not own the rights to these pictures.

St. Mark’s Basilica

Lunch and a Walk

Doge’s Palace

Evening (Finds a Hat)

For more pictures of Katherine Hepburn in Summertime, see this old Hollywood Reporter set.

Venice (A Vision in Three Parts)

When you are in Venice, there is nowhere else on earth you could be– the mysterious passages, romantically gloomy water around every corner, picturesque bridges, burly, striped gondoliers, and creepy masque shops (coupled with the overall abundance of leather goods). It’s not the destination for the claustrophobic or the penny pincher, but to the dreamer of unrealized visions? Venice is bliss. Venice is the nearest scratch with reality.

No visit to Venice is complete without a trip to the fabulous Rialto market. While it’s not a prime location for the vintage-seeker, there may be no better place for fresh fruits and vegetables. I was particularly pleased to get three large bags of sun dried tomatoes for 5 euro. In the US, you always pay the same amount for a small jar! Also, if you’re in need of an eel for dinner, this is the place to come (namely because they sell them). While generally I try to err on the side of adventure, on this occasion, I must report a timely abstention.

In the afternoon, we went over to the Jewish area. A little known and sad fact: in 1516, Venice was the first place to ever instate a Jewish “ghetto” (the English appropriation of the word stemming from the Venetian “ghèto”). Today the area remains Jewish, though less than 500 Jews live there. However, as of 2009, the population of Venice dipped under 60,000, meaning that it may be a higher percentage of Jews in the city than you would expect at first blush.

Where in the world is Rebecca Santiago?

What I Wore:

Stay tuned for more soon, although I may be a bit delinquent over the next few days as the reality of exams sets in– wish me luck!

Shared to Hat Attack and Trend Spin

Ladies Who Lunch

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.” ~Anais Nin

While I love my friends in England (don’t get me wrong), I have to say, seeing a friendly face this side of the pond is an irreplaceable feeling. So when my friend said she’d be coming three days earlier than expected, I wiped out my Wednesday afternoon schedule, so we could have a less-crowded day to romp around London. As it was, we ended up getting ready for an hour, sitting at lunch for about two hours (at the marvelous Delaunay counter– by far my favorite cafe in London), before we finally got over to Covent Market and the British Museum. Lucky for us, without the hindrance of Thanksgiving, they had just begun putting Christmas decorations up (though they haven’t quite lit up the Rosetta Stone yet). So it got dark early on us, but it didn’t at all impede our afternoon. Such is the glow

Outfit Details: Hat: H&M | Scarf: Vintage | Sweater: Burberry Prorsum | Cape: Vintage | Bag and Phone Case: Ba&Sh (you can find similar here) | Leggings: The Row | Boots: Michael Kors
The moral of the outfit is that when you start with a black palette, you can really jazz things up with a few accessories (which I’ve included here, complete with phone case).

Shared to Visible Monday and Hat Attack.

Upscale Autumn: Palatial Pairings

In all my time at Oxford two years ago, somehow I never got out to nearby Woodstock to visit Blenheim Palace. Honestly, I think it was because I got the idea that it was a big picnic area next to a house in the middle of nowhere (ergo, not worth the bus ride and 18 pound entry fee). I was, in a word, incorrect. While there are ample grounds one might fancy picnic-ing on and while it is in the middle of nowhere, even the most understated could hardly call Blenheim a house.

Granted by Queen Anne to the Duke of Marlborough, Blenheim Palace was built to memorialize (wait for it) the Battle of Blenheim (the Duke’s famous victory in the War of Spanish Succession. Over the next hundred years, its interiors were gradually stripped as subsequent heirs squandered the fortune, and it looked quite different (on the inside) from its former standing when a young Winston Churchill came to reside there (on his holidays from boarding school).

While I was surprised to learn of Churchill’s aristocratic roots (even though a John Churchill was the name of the Duke of Marlborough, so it probably should have been more intuitive), I was not particularly surprised that such a big personality would be raised somewhere so grand in scale– it also gave new meaning to the background behind his tomes on English military history (since he was virtually living in their mausoleum). Judging by the grounds and gardens, he also had plenty of absolutely stunning places to sit back and write. There are a few more pictures than usual in this collection, but it was all so stunning, I didn’t want to omit anything!

The adjoining chapel, which catered to the town.

Upon planning our palace visit, I wanted to make sure that I really felt the part. Conveniently, I had also never tried Laduree macaroons. In a thoroughly undignified manner, I proceeded to tote no less than 10 macaroons to Blenhiem (don’t worry, I shared). It was so lovely eating the height of French patisserie while casually lounging in the gardens. Did a few of the stray garbled crumbs intermingle the tastes? Sure (but that’s just more macaroon). This leads me to a little unsolicited travel advice: if you want for something to feel a certain way and you have a certain idea in your head, create that ambiance, and your memories are more likely to reflect the intent of your efforts. This is not to say you should go crazy with the Breton stripe in Paris, but if everything is better with ice cream, give yourself the ice cream (or macaroon, or truffle, or eclair, insert sweet thing here)!

Outfit Details:

These are not very helpful at all, but I’ll include them, nevertheless.
Scarf (shown in first picture): Estate Sale Treasure ($1.00)
Blazer: Estate Sale ($9.00)
Blouse: Talbots (hand-me-down)
Necklace: gift
Green Suit Separate Pants: Antonio Melani
Satchel: Fossil (ebay)
Boots: Tommy Hilfiger (S/S: 2014)
I go into this detail as a reminder that it’s not how much you pay, but how you wear it that determines whether or not you look palatial!

The Clothesline

Style for people blowing in the wind