Kat is staying indoors this weekend. Until she gets her first proper wage, she is customizing her clothes. But hardly begrudgingly. She has found that if you introduce a baby’s bonnet from the late 1800s to some Gap basics from last summer the results are ingenious. Even if she does say so herself.
First take lace so old it crackles. Don’t worry, the yellowed edges make it look richer. More one of a kind. Even if it barely hangs together, this just adds to the charm. Now watch what happens when you place it against the anonymous mainstream marl jersey of a Gap t-shirt. Something special, eh?
Now, how’s this for frivolity? If you’re lucky to get your hands on a frilly cravat, give this a go. Pin it to the front of a modern racer back tank. What do you know, you’re dressed for dinner coming in, and the hundred yard dash going out.
The baby’s bonnet was a lucky find. Unfortunately there was only one. Why couldn’t she be dealing with Victorian twins, drat and darn it. Not to worry, Kat is fond of asymmetry.
Look how it creates this lovely fluted effect at her wrist, fluttering around her knuckles. It really should be accessorized with a quill and ink. At the very least a fountain pen.
It should ornament wrists that only engage in delicate activities: needlework, tea drinking, catching up with correspondence at an oak writing desk, breaking the crested seal on an envelope and slipping a formal invitation from it while sitting in a parlour, draping a shawl, folding napkins in origami arrangements, sliding a bookmark between the pages of a leatherbound book with gold leaf pages, selecting ribbons and plumes to decorate a wide brim at the milliners, gripping a croquet mallet.
That sort of thing.
Kat is currently accessorizing every look with her pillar box red lace-up boots.
They remind her of what Bill Sikes ill-fated girlfriend, Nancy, might have worn as she trailed after him through the London underbelly, slinking across bridges, holed up in gin palaces, playing second fiddle to his bull terrier while all the while keeping a protective eye on Oliver. The boots have a ‘tart with a heart’ aspect. Kat enjoys pretending, privately inhabiting roles far removed from her everyday reality. Fashion allows her to do that to her heart’s content. A pair of graffiti tights finish the look off evoking a different Nancy in a different town: Sid Vicious’s lover during their ill-fated sojourn at NYC’s Chelsea Hotel.
All these characters play together in one outfit, chatting as if gathered under one roof.
It’s a bit like the game in which someone asks “Who would you invite to dinner party, living or dead?” Kat just invites them into her wardrobe.
Today’s look is entitled Orphan Punk Tart.
If you want to get to know more about Kat, you can buy Silk for the Feed Dogs here.