I Am The Spring

Boden dress styled in the first instance with a second hand hat and pair of wedge heels, and in the second with shorts from a charity shop, a necklace made by Maya, my favourite ankle boots and a Persephone book. 

What does a love of florals say about a person? Possibly nothing of great significance beyond a penchant for petals and colourful patterns. But it remains a universal symbol, worn by everyone from Grace Kelly to (apparently) the suffragettes; a print of continuing endurance – encompassing everything from the smallest of sprigs to the largest of abstract splashes.

Florals can appear passive at times – sweet, charming, out of reach of mud and grass stains. Indeed, the prevalence of roses and daisies on fifties' day dresses may suggest that they are purely the domain of the pretty. However, just as there is something in the region of 250,000 varieties of flowering plant in the world, so the floral print has more forms than one could wear in a lifetime. The bold, red splash of poppies; the embroidered intricacy of multicoloured chrysanthemums; the monochrome restraint of grey and white blossom scattered across a skirt. The realistic rubs fabrics with the outlandish. Flick through any book on vintage trends and there will be a profusion of flowers, from the imposing shapes on a thirties evening coat to the busy fabric of a Laura Ashley smock.

The interlinked history of florals and fashion may stretch back to when the first flower was tucked behind an ear, but achieved popularity in the 20^th Century. As methods of printing became cheaper and more effective, the concept of leisure grew large in society – leading to a spate of tea dresses rippling with flowers during the 50s. Brands such as Horrocks are now famous for their functional floral creations, whilst designers such as Hubert de Givenchy, Cristobel Balenciaga and Christian Dior often took the structure, colour and effect of flowers as inspiration for the cut and pattern of their clothes.

At the moment the current SS13 collections are blooming, with Prada, Erdem (inevitably), Moschino, Zac Posen and the inimitable Corrie Nielsen, among others, making use of the floral motif. There’s a hardy endurance there. The love of flowers on clothing is deep-rooted, popping up as a trend every few seasons like newly sprung seedlings. Sometimes what follows is an article in a publication on the ‘perfect’ floral dress, as though there is a single, elusive one out there – hanging expectantly as it waits for a warm body to give it shape.

I’ve been lucky enough to find several. One is a vintage 70s dress cut tight to the torso and covered with rounded blue and brown flowers. Another is a 60s gold cocktail dress with blue roses stretched across the surface. A third is a black mini-dress covered in pink and orange petals, belted at the waist and flared slightly at the hem. I wore it to the Royal Festival Hall on the South Bank in London on Friday to celebrate International Women’s Day. I was a feminist in a floral dress and it felt good.

But the latest floral addition is this Boden beauty, chosen to celebrate Stylist offering a £500 giveaway to one fortunate reader. It was difficult to pick from the selection of Boden dresses on offer, but from the knee length dresses this print dress (Riviera shirt dress in Steel Flower Pop) has a special resonance. It reminded me of a Brettles housecoat I became smitten with several years ago: light pink linen with deep pink, almost crimson flowers, it was the kind of item one would want to lounge around in drinking cocktails and having informal dinner parties. Perhaps this says as much about my aspirations as my preferred aesthetics, but similarly here the wide skirt, lilac cotton and shirt dress design brings with it plenty of potential. The neat pattern encourages thoughts of picnics and afternoon tea, lounging in the grass or stretching legs across the lawn on warm, summer evenings as the light fades. It is a dress of idealism, as well as a practical item to wear repeatedly once spring hits its stride. 

Homage to Orla Kiely

A plain door and flashed ticket lead to

ladder-steep stairs.

On the upper floor, desks;

where pastel secretaries tap and file.

Light brims over the clatter of keys,

a corridor of motion.

Boucle suits and t-bar shoes with polished heels and toes,

Mohair jumpers pink and soft as typists sit in rows.

Filing cabinets stacked

in blocks – a backdrop to

phones and teacups,

lamps, moneyboxes, beehives

shifting as they stoop and turn.

Cabled dresses, squirrel jumpers, jaunty circle skirts

All revealed as coats are peeled and sleeves rolled up on shirts.

We watch,

weight balanced on one metallic heel

or placed equally in two patent boots,

clustering at the edge.

They gather in a throng of knits as klaxons mark the close,

The working day has faded to a final, knock-kneed pose. 

Easy to imagine them still

typing, talking, working, walking

in a pocket of time,

suspended above Flitcroft Street:

hanging on the hem

of the past.

Rosalind Jana, 2013 

Photos of the Orla Kiely presentation very kindly provided by the beautiful Dina of She Loves Mixtapes

London Fashion Week is often described as a circus, but the more appropriate location might be the fairground. Colourfully dressed crowds; catwalk spaces strung out across the city like stalls displaying their wares; the spectacle of the shows and presentations. At LFW the Ferris wheel is not a physical presence, but an apt metaphor for the tumbling, ever-turning motion of each day as buyers and press make their way from place to place. Others are less concerned with the designers’ attractions than with the attendees – streets taking precedence over the catwalk as outfits are observed, aligned in the frame of a lens, quickly shot.

The increasingly theatrical aspect of London Fashion Week was most clearly encapsulated in Orla Kiely’s presentation in the Elms Lester gallery on Flitcroft Street. A mise-en-scene of desks, typewriters and beehived models greeted viewers who climbed the stairs with invites in hand. The whole experience was a multisensory immersion into another age - the taste of champagne and the sound of phones ringing balanced against sights of mustard cardigans and peter pan collars. It was an irrepressibly charming performance in situ. The line between stage and the audience blurred as we watched the 60s style typing pool from the sidelines – many with cameras in hand, or in my case a welsh-wool covered notebook and pen.

There is something incredibly desirable about the clothes that Kiely produces each season. They represent a full-skirted, pastel-sweetened vision of youthful elegance. Ankle socks abound in the lookbook, while during the presentation, white tights flashed past as models walked, sat and giggled behind carefully manicured nails. As with all collections, the overall theme can be broken down into individual designs – Mondrian-esque block print shift dresses, velvet jacquard jackets, pink dvore pencil skirts. The floral sprigged shirts and grey, faux fur coats will no doubt be desirable to a wide audience. A few consumers might emulate the playful office feel of the presentation, but these are all items with individual versatility and longevity. The presentation was a beautifully staged chance to set the clothes in motion and to assemble a story around the designs. 

And yet there’s something interesting about the role of women in these narratives. The crisp chic of a 50s secretary does have its allure – not only in the tailoring, but also in the whiff of stationary and thorough organisation. Add in the evocative clack of typewriter keys, the colour co-ordinated office space, the industriously stacked filing cabinets and you have a space that harks back to the world of Mad Men or The Hour. But despite the perceived glamour and style of such settings, the reality is that few would now aspire to being an ‘office girl’ - as they once did - or to working in such a retro environment. After all, the corsets and girdles worn under nipped-in dresses in the 50s and 60s were symbolic of the restraints placed on women at the time.

We are fortunate enough today (in the West) to live in a society where all jobs and roles are technically open to us – much higher rungs on the ladder to reach for if so wished (if not always achievable due to other factors.)

Perhaps it’s a process of drawing out the differences between inspiration and idealising of a past reality. Taking an era or look as stimulus for the creative process does not necessarily translate into a desire to live in that time period. We can acknowledge the allure of pencil skirts and sweaters as Orla Kiely does so gloriously, whilst also noting that we’re lucky now to be able to make an active decision to dress like this – treating the aesthetic as one of a myriad number of options, rather than a narrow given.

My slight homage to Kiely's AW '13 collection was composed of a second hand vintage blazer and cashmere jumper (both charity shopped), blue shirt from my mum, a second hand Valentino skirt (present), shoes from a charity shop and vintage accessories. 

If you want to see more of my writing, head over the the brilliant All Walks on the Catwalk website where I wrote an article about my experiences of modelling and body image. 

The Rites of Spring

Lace - isn't there something about it that's simply delectable? It seems to chime perfectly with the feelings brought about by Spring. Maybe something to do with the frothy, romantic, fairy-like feel one achieves by wearing it in abundance? However today it is strictly woolly jumper weather, as we have had the first proper rain fall in weeks.

I bought this vintage pink dress a while ago, and it is one of those items that seems to languish rather forlornly on the edge of my wardrobe, waiting for the possibility of being taken out and worn - a little like a dancer who knows she is beautiful, but rarely gets chosen to accompany someone in a Waltz or Quickstep.

Finally, it was its turn for 'a trip out' last weekend, when I wrestled it out of the clutches of the other cramped coathangers to create a Ballet Russes inspired look. I'm using the term 'inspired' quite loosely here, as I'm not sure if there is any tangible reference to Diaghilev's company among the pink lace and green velvet, but I did feel very dancer-like. Visiting the Ballet Russes V&A exhibition (early last Autumn) on the day I was told I was going to be having surgery was a magical (and somewhat surreal) experience. I have since pored over the book that not only details the history of the memorable company, but also provides very good quality pictures of the spectacular costumes.

The vintage jacket in the first image was my mum's and the 'necklace' is a big curtain tassel I found hanging on the back of my door. The pink brogues are from Next (and still take the title of 'comfiest shoes I own'), and the vintage belt used to belong to my grandma. The bag is Russell & Bromley (found for £4!) and the necklace wound around my wrist is vintage. My hair was kept in place with a vintage silk scarf.

Now talking of lace, I don't want to go down the whole writing-about-the-royal-wedding route (I hadn't planned on watching the coverage - but I must admit I couldn't help being drawn in), but some reference must be made to that dress. I was so pleased to see that it was designed by Sarah Burton for Alexander McQueen, and that it took inspiration from the eternally glamorous and graceful Grace Kelly. One elaborate detail that really stood out to me was the incredible amount of time taken to craft the lace that adorned the bodice and train. The fact that 'The needleworkers had to wash their hands every fifteen minutes' has been bandied around the blogosphere so many times it probably seems that I am now stating old news. Nevertheless, the time and effort that went into creating that garment is astonishing.

This, along with the nominees for the Turner prize being announced today, sparked an idea for another debate. Aside from Royal Weddings and the hysteria-inducingly pricey couture and high fashion (which I do love), do we still value quality in the twenty first century? Arts such as lace-making and embroidery could be considered specialist skills, where once nearly every household in Britain had some basic knowledge. Obviously many of us have other things to do than sit around sewing, but is the craft of exquisite needlework even appreciated any more?

I mention the Turner prize because I am frankly a little sick of the Damien Hirsts of this world. It seems that now anyone can have a conceptual idea about sticking some oranges to a canvas and calling it art, or in the Turner Prize case being nominated because your painting material of choice is make-up (I liked drawing in lipstick and eyeshadow when I was five - does that make me deserving of £25,000?) I know that this is just my opinion, and art is the biggest example of 'Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder', but apart from the BP portrait prize, are there any major awards out there that recognize craftmanship and training over concept?

All of the arts, be it fashion design, music, photography, sculpture or writing, need honing and training to achieve real skill. I appreciate reading books where the writer is capable of tight plotting or breath-taking images, and seeing photography exhibitions where the photographer has captured the soul or character of the subject in front of them, without needing to resort to Photoshop. However sometimes I worry I am among a dwindling number... How many artists today would undertake three or more years of training in Florence to master their technique?

So now for the usual - what do you think? Are my views hopelessly out of date? Or does anyone out there feel the same?

Edit: I realised the above might make it sound like I am only for 'Classical' paintings. This is not the case at all (although I am partial to a pre-Raphaelite) - instead what I am lamenting is the lack of skill and craft in various instances. But I do love the work of artists such as Rachel Whiteread - the first female winner of the Turner - who, among others, proves that modern art is an incredibly valid and innovative way of expression. Another artist who is creating extraordinary pieces is Ai Weiwei. But again, just my personal opinion. 

Pink Silk at Dusk

Hello everyone.

I only got back yesterday from Wales and loved reading all your comments on my last post. I will try and reply to all of you lovely people soon.

These photos are very new, only being done this afternoon! The incredibly wonderful Florence took these. She started her own photography blog recently too, and I advise that you all go and take a look! When you do, some of the photos may look a little familiar.. I'm always really inspired by working with flo. She has a great eye for detail.

Find it at http://florencefox.blogspot.com/

Today we wanted to do a shoot inspired by a show we both saw over the summer in edinburgh called 'The Kosh.' It was a really amazing one woman dance show. So the theme for this shoot was glamour and eccentricity. I arrived at her house with a vintage suitcase and big bag full of clothes to try out! Too much as usual..

This is a vintage silk slip that was my paternal great-granny's. I think the colour is that perfect dusky rose shade. In fact, the only type of pink I will wear! The little grey top underneath was from a charity shop and the little vintage white satin shrug was bought at a local stall. It did have a beautiful fifties wedding dress with it, that my mum tried to dye red- unsuccessfully. It was blotchy pink and had to be thrown out (I was only about 7 at the time, and didn't exactly think about rescuing it!) What a sad waste. But luckily the shrug has made it's way into my open hands and I wear it all the time.

The tasselled shawl was Babi's (my czech grandma.) I think it has a bit of a Liza Minelli in Cabaret feel. Talking of which, I watched that film the other day. I've always thought it's such a classic. What is your favourite classic film? I'm always a sucker for an Audrey Hepburn one, especially Funny Face and Breakfast at Tiffany's.

The belt is inherited, and sadly now falling apart slightly. And the rather amazing pink satin and rhinestone shoes were given (!) to me by Rosie, who owns a neaby vintage stall. I always buy something there, she has such an eclectic range of jewellery and garments. I was so amazed when she gave these to me, I think they are possible the most flamboyant pair I own.

I have some more photos from today's shoot to share with you soon, as well as my first shoot with me behind the camera!

Oh, a quick question to you all before I go. Do I write too much on my blog posts? I often find that I have so much to say, and really enjoy writing them, but would you honestly prefer it if I cut down the text? I'd appreciate your opinions...