New haircut, pincurls and a boyfriend

Preface.
The last time I had bangs I was eight years old - no kidding.
You probably couldn't care less about it but - I assure you -, it was quite an important assumption to me.
I've always had a one-lenght cut, with super-straight, waist-long hair; quite boring, to say the truth. Last week, after realizing that the last time I had gone to a hairdresser's was in, uh, March 2009, and I could have easily won a competition for the best split ends, I decided to put an end to it - and I had my hair cut.
I went to the hairdresser, holding a sheet of paper - the diagram below - tight in my hand like a weapon, and I warned him not to deviate from it. Surprisingly - hairdressers never do exactly what you ask them to do; is a matter of principle - he followed it slavishly.
So, now, fourteen years later, I have bangs - and layered hair - again.




When I saw him cutting it, and four-inches long strands of hair falling in front of me, I honestly had a moment of panic - the "This-Is-The-Worst-Mistake-I've-Ever-Made" kind of thing - but I have to admit that, now that is done, I find it amazingly versatile.
I set my hair in pincurls for a night out, and the result pleased me a lot.
Here's me, makeup-less and glassy-eyed, with my bew haircut; and, just above, me in my vintage-inspired hairdo.

(Dress - gift; Bag - vintage 1950s, thrifted; Coral earrings, bracelet and necklace: vintage, thrifted; Hair flower - Ninetynine store)

Even my boyfriend liked the new cut, and greeted it with -- a bunch of her grandmother's roses! So cute!

Christmas time

Just a few pictures of my Xmas:



It has been snowing quite a lot in the past few weeks, with temperature swinging around - 15°C (5°F, if you're more comfortable with Farenheit degrees).
Streets have been impassable for days, and the whole north Italy had been covered by a thick white layer; but, unfortunately, yestarday a hot wind melted the most part of it.
Our Christmas has been a very windy, hot, bright yellow-lighted day - some African wind brought us a sand rain, that gave the landscape a funny sepia shade - with not even a hint of snow.


My older brother, as a (new) member of the citizen band, had to dress up ("Mum, I will never go out like that!", he said) with the band uniform (black suit, green vest and blue tie - I would have felt ashamed, too) to play the flute in our church, for the usual Xmas concert.
At some point he had to perform a solo, and he was tomato-red with embarrassment - just to complete the chromatic whole!
When we got out of the church (that was actually a lot colder than the outside), we had to psychologically prepare ourselves for The Christmas Lunch (with capital letters).

We're a pretty big family, when we are all reunited; so, every time we share some festivity, we have to go to my uncle's restaurant - closed for the occasion - and put all the tables together to achieve this gigantic dining-table.
My mom and her sisters-in-law, supervised by my granny, used the restaurant kitchen to put together two first courses (tortellini and vegetable lasagne), and five - yep, five - second courses (including pig's trotter, osso buco, rabbit stew and two or three kinds of roasted meat, coming with all sorts of handmade, delicious sauces) with plenty of side dishes (roasted potatoes, stew runner beans, mixed salad) and quite a lot of excellent wine. And say nothing about desserts!
I've made a cheesecake and a chocolate cake, my granny a fig jam-and-macaroon pie, one of my aunts a pumpkin pie, and forgetting panettone, marron glacés and chocolates!

Those kind of things are often a tour de force that can wear the sturdiest man out, but when the company is good and the occasion is - thank God - an una tantum, it becomes quite enjoyable.

At the eleventh hour (literally!) I was told I had to decorate the table: somehow, with what I could find turning drawers over and ransacking the restaurant warehouse (I hooked some angel hair from a window, too), I managed to do...

those little luminaries...

... and this centre-piece.
Lots of use of tangerines there, I fear - at least it smelled good!

(Why I look so old?)

Here I am wearing my mom's Xmas present - an adorable vintage pied-de-poule coat (mid-1960s, I think) with funny astrakan trimming around the neck and sleeves. By my side you can see my brothers - the older one being only 14-year-old, but quite a lot taller than me.
I tried to match the coat with a 1960s hairdo, inspired by superkawaiimama (I would have loved to try a 'flip' like the one showed by Aya, aka StrawberryKoiVintage, but unfortunately my hair is far too long for it to look good).
I used a home-made hair rat (made with my own hair wrapped into a hairnet) to achieve some volume at the top - if you think it's gross, you should talk with my mum, who raised her eyebrow and asked me, why the hell I put a dead mouse on my head?

My dad gave me an amazing vintage garnet ring as a gift, as I adore garnets. This gift caused a little misunderstanding, because my pack and my mum's were wrapped with the same paper, and my dad mixed them up.
When he gave my mum her present, and she opened it, she found my ring and tried to wear it - but she noticed that it was way too small for her fingers. At the same time, I thought I would have loved it, if it was my own gift, and wondered why my dad didn't give it to me.
He saw mum struggling with the ring, and said "Whoops, I must have made a mistake".
Both me and mom thought he was referring to the size of the ring, but he rapidly replaced my mum's gift with mine, and vice versa. My mom started laughing and told me, "Sorry, I spoiled you the surprise!"

Inside my gift was also a note from dad, saying (more or less):
Giulia,
With all the silly geese around the world, why a smart daughter happened just to me?
Anyway, I won't change you for anything else in the world - not even a pack of chewing gums.
Merry Xmas, Cocca.

When I asked him, "What if it was two packs of chewing gums?", he answered, as I knew he would have, "Well, in this case I would look on the exchange."

My brothers had a note into their presents, too.
Enrico's one said
Enrico,
you're a donkey! [And I can confirm it's true, nda], but among all donkeys you're my favourite one.
Merry Xmas, Gibus

Andrea's one said
Andrea,
you're a good kid, and a bit of a mama's boy.
If you were obedient, too, you would be perfect... Too perfect!
Merry Xmas, Chicchi.*


*Now, don't ask me why Giulia is became "Cocca", Enrico "Gibus" and Andrea "Chicchi", because nobody remembers it, and my dad remembers it less than anyone.
Considering that he often calls my mom "Wife" ("Wife, come here just a moment, please" "What time is it, Wife?"), and she calls him by surname, you shouldn't be surprised of those kind of nicknames! :-)

Library finds, part II - Modern... Vintage!

For all those people who think "vintage" as a synonymous of "granny-like", I found out some photos that could make you change your mind... a little bit!
After another raid in the local library, I came home with, among others, a photograph book about Dior and another one about the great fashion designer Renè Gruau.
So, what? You could say.
They were both used to draw clothes in the 1940s-1950s: what's new about that?
Well, I noticed some similarities between a few different pictures; and I decided to ask you to play with me an old game: the kind of game you can find in the crossword magazines.
So... are you ready to find the differences between the photos I'll post below?


Look at this picture: this quirky, luscious red evening dress, named "Ispahan", was designed in 1947 by Gruau for - guess who? - Dior.
Ruby red silk, gloves, stiletto heels, pearls. A refined updo to let the model's bare shoulders uncovered.
Looks like a typical case of the mixture of elegance and craziness, malice and voluptuousness, that characterized French fashion in the early 1950s - no more financial straits, people long again for elegance, luxury, and some fun.
With its fancy bodice - red baroque roses emphasizing the bust, an equally red shawl around bare shoulders, this model is peculiar of its time - today, its rococo roses would appear dated and out of place.

... Or not?





This fire-red taffeta dress belongs to the Winter Collection 1989-1990.
A draped stole wraps the model showing its peculiarity: extravagant silk roses all around the shoulders, surrounding bare neck and shoulders, highlighted by a high chignon.

It's just me, or this dress reminds us of something we have already seen before...?



Same thing with these couples of photos: which one is following the other's exemple?









On the left: pattern from the 1940s.
On the right: model from the 90s.






























On the left: Dior dress, 1950s.
On the right: Dior dress, late 1980s.





















Now, take as well this picture, and its modern, offhand, jaunty feel.
When I first saw it, I could have bet it was made in the late 1980s: a bright pattern, high-waisted tight trousers, flat shoes.

Nothing further from the subdued colours, neatness and panache of the war and post-war times... If we ignore the fact the picture was drawn in the late 1940s for the cover of the International Textiles.

I found a slightly, but funny resemblance with some 1980s dresses I've seen on the net, like this, or this.





Let's take a last look on this one. This drawing is so amazingly up-to-date, with its comic strip look and a slightly 90s feel, that I was quite surprised it was actually made in 1957.
Nothing it its contrasting, bright colours, or essential and rough-edged lines, reminds me about the Fifties and the dreamy idea of a soft, kind-hearted femininity that it's usually associated with these years.
When I see this jazzy checked pattern, the first image that comes to my mind is more like this... than this!
... But, maybe - I should reassess my idea of what "vintage" is! :)

Changing out my closet

Just a little, quick, random post before going to bed.
A bed that, at the present time, looks like this:





Yeah, somewhere - under tons of fabric - it should be my bed.
At least, I think so.

I have to replace my summer clothes with fall and winter clothes, so I've taken advantage of an unforeseen one-day holiday (the guy who should teach me my new job has got a flu) and I rolled up my sleeves.
I decided to list all my clothes into an Excel file (separating them by colour, pulling apart the formal ones from the informal ones, etc), following the advice of a wise friend (who manages to have almost as much skirts as me), because, even if I have much more dresses than I could possibly wear in my whole life, when I have to go out I never manage to find a single one that works for the occasion: and I usually sit on my bed with a disconsolate expression on my face, shaking my head like an old dog, and muttering to myself : "Twenty-one years collecting clothes, and I still have nothing to wear".

Guess what I found out, while classifying my clothes?
That I am... a person of fixed habits.
What's new about that?
Nothing, actually.
But I realized that I have a disquieting proclivity to buy the same item twice - and I became aware that I have
- two exactly alike gingham skirts with black round buttons on the front (one was my mum's, the other was found at a second-hand market)
- two white knee-lenght polka-dot skirts (one bought in Germany during a field trip, the other found, - guess where? - at a second-hand market)
- two black polka-dot shirts
- countless white skirts
- countless black skirts.

People.
... I'm a hazard to myself.




















PS: I would love to say I wore the bandana to protect my hair from dust - but, actually, I did it just to feel more homemaker-ish.
I can't do my housework without a little bit of drama.

Findings!

I have been trying to arrange a - very well-organized, for my standard - hair tutorial post: I wrote the theorical part, I decided the page setting, and all.
But something went wrong during the process, and
- my 13-years-old brother, who was supposed to be the Helmut Newton of the situation, had been too occupied (not) worrying for an exam, and (not) studying for it.
- my hair refused to obey to anything but the force of gravity, and sadistically hammered away at bobbypins for a week.
- my wondrously well-ordered post mysteriously vanished into ether.

So, I had to think about something else to fill the hiatus... And, yes, I know, the beginning sounds like a homework assignment ("Yesterday I woke up, had breakfast..."), but with that kind of preface, I ask you to go easy on me, this time!

So...
Sunday morning I had been visiting, as usual, an antique/second-hand market. The night before I prepared myself to the event wearing pincurls, and I wore my blue dress, white shoes and my favourite 1950s sunglasses (oval black lenses, cream white bakelite frame).

I managed to spend less than 20€, and I bought three dresses, a purse and a cardigan.

One of the dresses was a vintage - I think late 1970s - one; not an eye-catcher, though I find it pretty cute, with its cream undercoat and its (umpretentious, but lovely) checked, black and cream tunic!
The lady who sold me this dress asked me if she could take a photo of my outfit, and I - obviously! - assented with pleasure.
She gave me a little discount, too... And I - obviously again - agreed with (great) pleasure once more!

The cardigan was something
rétro-ish, too.
Salmon pink, fitted, with rounded metallic buttons and a neat neckline, it istantly reminded me a lot of Doris Day for its colour, shape and neck.
Isn't it the perfect sweetheart, girl-next-door fall item?

I bought this purse - lacquer red, patent [fake] leather - on my way home.
I took a glance into a 99 cent store and I saw it.
Yep, I know what you're thinking, and I was puzzled, too.
But I payed it 99 cents, and I'm actually very happy about it.
There I bought some colorful stickers, too (a pocket of glittery sweets, including lollipops, cupcakes and candies; and a "paperdoll" one, with little colored dresses, purses, shirts and bikinis).
But, being grown-up and mature, I pretend I bought them for my younger brother (11 years old); who, to tell the truth, actually sticked a bright green lollipop and a shimmery red and yellow cupcake on his diary - but is pretty uninterested about the tiny skirts and the pink, or gingham microscopic underwear!

Hello Bluebird

Nice dress, isn't it?
I found it at a local monthly antique market, and I firmly believe that, for once, I stumbled on a true piece of vintage (1950s or early 1960s, maybe).

It's made of thick, blue polka dot cotton, with nice white Dorset buttons and a heavy metallic zip on the side. No label, no size. It was too large and long for me, but somehow I managed to make it fit - the belt is an addition (the original one was a blue threadbared one).
Don't you think that hat (a present from a good friend) goes well with it?