Coat - vintage kilo sale
Blouse - vintage fair
Dress - charity shop
Belt - charity shop
Bag and scarf - charity shop
Boots - Marks & Spencer via eBay
Beret - Monki
♡
Happy lockdown anniversary everyone.
Tuesday 23rd March marked a year since we first became restricted in how life could be lived. The losses experienced are heart-breaking, and back at the beginning it was hard to see how we could ever get through a few months - the present extent of the situation was unthinkable. I started working at a pharmacy in the May, and remember when mask wearing was first enforced. I hated them. How are you meant to work an eight hour shift with such a thing elasticated to your face?! AND they slip down when you talk so you are in a constant cycle of readjustment, ugh! Now however, I am quite glad of them and how they not only reduce the spread of the virus, but also protect the local neighbourhood from how rough I can look in the morning.
You may have noticed the little clusters of cheerful perennials which decorate many grassy verges and garden flowerpots as of recently, and in particular the daffodil, symbolic of rebirth and new beginnings. With the departing of the final frosts of winter, March's birth flower draws parallels with the tentative reopening of society we are in the midst of. When I borrowed a handful of the blooms from a vase of nearly-past-their-best ones on the windowsill, as a prop for my outfit, I thought of them purely as an artistic nod to springtime. I think it is rather lovely they denote more than being just complimentary colours captured on camera, and thank goodness I picked out a bunch as apparently singularly they mean 'misfortune', and I certainly am not in the mood to manifest anymore of that.
This coat is maybe my most favourite thing at the moment. Perfectly embodying the current trend in fashion retail for checks in pastel hues, but sustainably from a vintage kilo sale (pre-covid of course and how I miss them), cue immensely smug feeling. Whenever I slip it on, I am instantly transported to a 1960's early spring... I am either attending a wedding, ready to joyfully hurl confetti at the happy couple and catch the bouquet, or perhaps inspired by the recent inauguration and combined with the beautifully matched beret, I am an ambitious retro politician's wife; swanky cocktail party hostess extraordinaire who never leaves the house unless immaculately turned out.
The boots were a mega steal from eBay! Brand new, with the labels (you know, the hideously hard to remove sticker ones) still attached to the pristine Marks & Spencer soles; the underneath of these shoes still declares the original £150 price tag. Delivered to my door for under £40 (again that smug feeling combined with the sweet euphoria of finding exactly what you want pre-owned and more environmentally friendly), I confess circumstances have cemented me as an avid online second hand shopper. Although, will just add that kitten heels were definitely not made for mossy green pastures, and neither was white leather: a sobering example of aesthetic triumphing over practicality and the diminished ability to walk any further than a few metres down the road and then back again.
In regards to what I am wearing beneath this coat of dreams and above my bargain boots... Yes, that is a nightie tucked into my belt to create a mini dress. And yes, it did begin to unfurl itself towards the end of the photo taking - in the words of my photographer mother, "I hope no one I know sees me doing this". I have a habit of buying frilly, delightfully patterned, but unsuitable for wearing in public, nightwear with the intention of refashioning it into daytime appropriate clothing. Unfortunately, this lilac and floral number has not yet been subjected to my hemline slashing (and in true sixties spirit, I follow the principle of the shorter the better). Layered with a vintage collared blouse, buttoned up to the neck, for both warmth and the illusion of ladylike refinement, I can nearly pretend no one will notice my questionable sartorial choices.
As we move gradually forward into sunnier times, I hope the optimism of the changing season seeps into your daily energy: the new normal with its increased freedom looms promisingly near. On a final note, it is imperceptibly ironic that a quick search for one year [paper] anniversary gifts includes results for embroidered toilet rolls, and of course there was a time when this truly would have been a much-welcomed gift.
Love Emily
xxx
♫ Now Playing ♫
[I Don't Recognise You]
NewDad, 2020
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