Ida.

Ida Jenshus is a gorgeous Norwegian folk/country artist, who in 2009 won the Norwegian Grammy for Country Album of the Year. Above, she is wearing a Damsel Vintage dress. I love love love Ida's style, and am thrilled that she and I share a similar taste in vintage. You can even see a peak of the dress on the cover of her new album, No Guarantees:

Beautiful, stylish, and talented. She reminds so much of my favourite 70s ladies I blogged about here, particularly the look and style of Melanie. Wouldn't you agree? Divine. All photos are copyright Kim Ramberghaug.

And thus I clothe my naked villainy / with old odd ends stolen out of holy writ / and seem a saint when most I play the devil

Rob Pensalfini as King Richard III. Photo by Morgan Roberts.

In my other life I am privileged to belong to a unique and inspiring theatre company, the Queensland Shakespeare Ensemble. QSE came into my life at a time when I was frankly a bit over acting, and was feeling somewhat jaded about ensemble theatre. Two years as part of their core ensemble helped turn that around - something I am eternally grateful for. In 2010 I decided not to continue in the core so that I could focus more time and energy on Damsel Vintage for a while, but I have managed to merge my two "worlds" by taking on the role of joint costumer designer (with my friend and fellow QSE'r Angel Kosch) for their mainstage production, Richard III, directed by Tom McSweeney.

Finally, my growing collection of medieval dresses and unhealthy obsession with silk velvet has a purpose in life! Angel and I have also been op-shopping like demons, something I haven't done for an eternity. The costumes are starting to come together nicely and as more publicity shots are taken I will post them. For starters, here's a sneak peak.

Rob Pensalfini as Richard III. Claire Pearson as Lady Anne. Louise Brehmer as Queen Elizabeth. Jane Cameron as Margaret. Cienda McNamara as the Duchess of York. Photo by Morgan Roberts.

Claire wears a 1970s emerald wrap dress. Louise wears a 1960s blue velvet bolero jacket with pearl bead and gold embroidery trim. She also wears my 1999 grad dress! Jane wears an early 1960s Young Innocent (which later became Young Edwardian) velvet jacket with fabric buttons and khaki lace trim. The outfit Cienda is wearing is not her final costume - we decided on a long green dress from a fantastic website - holyclothing.com - who do gorgeous gypsy dresses in a huge range of sizes. All photos are copyright Morgan Roberts.

You can find out more about the Queensland Shakespeare Ensemble on our website, and keep update to date with news and Richard III details on our facebook page. More costume updates soon!

Oh Liv

Gotta love the Lifeline Book Fair. Sometimes the endless rows of books – countless trashy forgotten works obscuring the occasional treasure - can be so overwhelming that I leave empty-handed and more than a little frustrated. But back in June I hit the nostalgic jackpot with a hidden chunky pile of 90s Rolling Stone mags – yesssssssss. Satisfaction.

I fully anticipated my amusement at the white boy homie fashion ads, and wasn't disappointed. 26 Red, anyone? Klue?

Oh yes, anyone over the age of 25 just admit that you had a phase. Admit it. Someone? Perhaps it was just me then. Well, for the benefit of the uninitiated, you got the tightest crop top possible and the baggiest lowest jeans imaginable and the stupidest bandanna in existence, and you paraded around Sunshine Plaza (or equivalent) in this ensemble trying (and failing) to intimidate the skegs (surf brand wearers) with your bad 12 yr old self. Wich yo baaaaaad self.

Hmmmm. I don't quite remember THIS on the Hot Tuna racks:

But frankly, let's be honest now, it's about on par with the young strapping lads of today insisting on persevering with this fluro shorts + slip-on loafers sans socks debacle. And even with the occasional questionable fashion moment there's something about these 90s mags that I appreciate, now more than ever. There's a rawness to them, less manicured, youth searching for identities rather than having just a few highly specific acceptable options shoved down your throat. Leo was the wonder-boy heartthrob (go Leo!). Anthony Kiedis was sex. Courtney Love made great music, and was known for that. Soul Asylum were self-indulgent wankers who, though at one time were insanely famous, left a pretty small mark in the end. So though I was fully expecting to be amused, I wasn't quite prepared for a slight niggling feeling of loss.

At what? Not sure really. I don't miss being a teenager. Maybe... being so enveloped by music. Being inspired by these magical girls. Looking forward to being... wanting to be... somebody. Not Somebody. Just somebody.

This girl, which I wasn't. THAT girl.

This girl, which I wasn't.

The cooler than cool grunge chick that no longer seemed to exist in society by this time I became... confident to be myself.

Liv. Dear god, at age 17. Was there ever ANYONE else so... disarming? Liv. Just about to be cast in Stealing Beauty. On the cusp of ridiculous beauty of her own.

A 90s moment remembered. I've struggled with the resurgence of 90s fashion, I guess mainly because the young girls today do it so much better than I ever did. Sexier, for a start. A little unauthentic perhaps, more mainstream, but still better. (maybe that's just what mainstream is: trend + sexy + unauthentic = mainstream). But Liv in this movie represents the best that 90s fashion ever was or ever will be. If I could recreate even half a percent of the magic she did, I might reconsider my stance on it. Might even try and bottle it.

the girls that I adore

Rediscovering my undying love for Steve Nicks recently has inspired me to find a few images of other girls that continually fuel my passion for vintage clothing, and who represent the wonderful unique style I try to resurrect in the pieces. I want to see it walking on our streets today, people! Free-spirited, talented, shining lights of their time - unpretentious, individual, authentic - ahh one can only dream to be so fabulous.

Michelle...










Jane...










Ali...






Joni...






And last but, oh, certainly not least. Far less famous than all of the above, though not deservedly so. Melanie Safka was, and still is, a stupendously gorgeous and talented singer, whose style - particularly in the 1960s and 70s - I adore. Her songs were so unashamedly honest and heartfelt. Some could even be considered cheesy, and would be if they were released today. Yes, one song does actually say:

If I weren't afraid you'd laugh at me
I would run and take all your hands
And I'd gather everyone together for a day
And when we gathered
I'll pass buttons out that say
Beautiful people
Then you'd never have to be alone
'Cause there'll always be someone
With the same button on as you

However, I argue that her complete hippie authenticity and magnetic presence on stage, not to mention her amazing voice, nullifies that...

















Are songs like this still made? I'm not sure we're that hopeful anymore.

take me back to the start

Before I was born and when I was little, mum and dad dealt in antiques and collectibles. Mum advertised in the local papers for 'linen, lace, and old buttons', and often came home with all sorts of other treasures as well, such as - oh, I don't know - genuine 1920s and 30s evening dresses. In the late 1970s and early 80s their weekend market stall in Auckland would have a pre-dawn lineup, and when they opened the 'door' a flurry of collectors and upmarket dealers would whisk through snapping up the cherry items - Victorian china, flapper dresses, and antique costume jewelery all bagged, tagged and snagged before 6am. (On the subject of costume jewelery, make sure you check any piece you find. Mum once sold a necklace that she was later informed - rather untactfully I might add - was actually a diamond and sapphire piece. Yeah.) Our home was the gateway where beautiful things passed through daily, but rarely stayed. Though admittedly our (my sister and I) dress-up box was made up of Edwardian blouses and 1940s girls party dresses, one of which I wore when I was 5 and refused to remove for about 2 months, until the ivory jacquard satin had turned a particularly fetching shade of beige-brown. Complete with matted birds nest hair that I would not allow to be brushed, it was a sight to behold.

Glamorous as it all may sound we were not wealthy at all; in fact, we were pretty bloody poor most of the time. Mum and dad lived the experience of constantly letting go of the best, the most beautiful, and sometimes just whatever could be found, in order to pay the bills. Oh... can we go back in time please? There's a black silk jacket mum used to wear, a loose draping soft cut with cropped bell sleeves, every inch covered in a gold hand-embroidered vine pattern. I need this in my wardrobe now. Sigh. I hope someone is enjoying it.

But despite the struggle, it was a home with a lot of love going on. And I feel blessed to have been raised by such talented, artistic people who taught me to appreciate the unique, the quality, the quirky, the history, the imperfectly perfect. Oh! Remembering... they made tooled leather wallets, bags, and belts for a while. The best seller was a soft leather shoulder bag, with intricate carvings of flowers or birds, and long leather fringe that hung right down to the knees. It made such a statement when a girl bought one of these, strutting away in her flared blue jeans with the fringe swishing in time as she walked. Man, I still want to be one of those girls. Then later, when we lived on the island, it was handmade suede leather moccasin boots. They laced up the font, were beaded across the toes, had sheepskin lining, and were the comfiest house shoes in the world, especially during the... shall we say "crisp"... New Zealand winters. Every time I go back to NZ I secretly hope to find one of those bags or a pair of the moccasins peaking out from some dark corner of a thrift store. No luck so far, but I'm still vaguely hopeful. In the meantime I seek out what treasures I can, imagining what history they have, and enjoy the little moment when they pass through my hands.

The point? Hmmm... the point. Well. Sometimes when a business is a labour of love you can find that somewhere along the track you started focusing on the labour a little too often, and forget why you made this choice in the first place. So here's just taking a moment to stop, breathe, and believe. I guess occasionally we all need to remind ourselves where we have come from, what passions were sparked there, and that it's important to allow - or sometimes fight for - them to still live in the present.

Man I feel like Dr Phil and Jerry Springer's love child today.

girls.

Girls. Found a box of awesome vintage mags and after flicking through, I discovered a growing theme in my chosen scans. Girls with attitude. Girls I wanted to be when I grew up. Fearless, fun, growling, dancing, kissing, slouching girls. Wearing killer heels one day and boys clothes the next and too many accessories and plaits and messy hair. Too often I find myself changing an outfit if I think other people won't like it, or if it draws too much attention. Surely I'm old enough now to stop caring? Is 2010 the time to let it go and step it up? YES MA'AM.

First stop: shoes that actual grownups wear.

(1989 ad for Kate Durham; 1988 Vogue editorial pic on 'mudlark' fashion; 1988 Vogue editorial pic on Chanel; Stevie Nicks 1970s; 1970 Snazzi by La Gaye Parisienne dress; 1980s Cue ad)