Evins- shoe maker for the stars

Have you heard of Evins the shoe designer? Google it and you'll probably be redirected to Evans the shoe shop. This is a travesty.

David E. Evins designed shoe after shoe for decade after decade, many of his designs selected and worn by stars on the silver screen, the red carpet and in the White House.

David E. Evins himself

He began his career as a fashion illustrator for American Vogue soon after World War II. While sketching shoes for the magazine, he started to alter what he saw for effect, trying to make the shoes more appealing. His editor was not impressed, and sacked him. Telling him that if he wanted to design shoes, then that is what he should do for a living. And so, he did.

Evins designed shoes from 1958, now owned by The Metropolitan Museum of Art

He first worked as a pattern cutter for others, but in 1947 opened up a factory with his brother Lee in the spiritual home of high heels: New York City.

A year later he won the prestigious Coty Award to celebrate American fashion innovation. The prize was for his creation of the shell pump, a design which showed more of a woman's foot than ever before. In the 50's he launched a handmade shoe called '6 ounces'. It sold for $175 a pair at a time when quality women's shoes typically cost about $45. Arguably, many of us wear shoes based on this early design every day as our fail safe court shoes for work and dinners out. Supposedly Evins reaction to the many awards he won over his career was to stand in the middle of the factory floor and say: 'No kidding?'

But to really appreciate his importance in the history of shoes, you have to look at his client list. He designed shoes that were part of Grace Kelly's trousseau- fit to see her become a princess. And for Cher, Jackie O, Marilyn Monroe, Ava Gardner, Judy Garland (supposedly his favourite dinner date), Marlene Dietrich, Elizabeth Taylor and was an absolute favourite of Nancy Reagan who routinely ordered six pairs a year- two styles in three different sizes for winter, summer and for when aboard Airforce One.

Image courtesy of Cote de Texas blog

Evins died in 1991 at the age of 85, but his legacy lives on and if you would like to own a pair of his famous shoes, I have one pair for sale, and they are as lovingly designed as you would expect.

https://marketplace.asos.com/listing/shoes/red--black-court-shoes-by-evins--shoe-maker-to-the-stars/161430

Think Piiiiink this October

So, once again, October is here. It is the month of Halloween, falling leaves and, lest we forget, Breast Cancer Awareness.

Bizarre as it is, breast cancer does just what the song in the Audrey Hepburn classic film 'Funny Face' from 1957 tells us to do, we 'Think Pink'.

And so, in honour of that, this month I am going to donate £5 to the Breast Cancer Partnership for every pink thing I sell through ASOS Marketplace.

A couple of the things you could choose to get hold and make me make a donation at the same time look like this:



Pink quilted jacket, peach maxi cocktail dress, high waisted 80's polk-a-dot-trousers, hot pink shorts.

More will be added as the month continues and donations, fingers crossed, stack up and up and up...

If you're not in the pink mood- it happens to us all sometimes- then please do just go over and make a donation on the Breast Cancer Partnership site.

I recommend them because I know them very well thanks to my day job, and because I find the protect, pioneer and support women against breast cancer a unique one. We all need to know what we can do to prevent breast cancer... and do it. While helping women and families who are afflicted by the disease.

Thanks for thinking pink and, I hope, for your generosity. If you also sell on ASOS, Etsy, Ebay or any other site, please do think about making your own donation, of any amount and for as many or few things as you can. Would love it if the vintage and handmade community got behind this!

Vintage with attitude

Material Girl Aziza

Oh yes, another happy bona fide Belle Amie Vintage customer. Check out Aziza!
She lives in France- ooh la la- is too cool for school, or pretty much anything, and knows how to style an 80's bomber jacket. As soon as the jacket arrived she sent me an email saying: 'she's so beautifuuuuuul'.

I think it is fair to say that Aziza has found her Belle Amie.

Lady Lucy Luck

LOVE it when instead of a vintage fantasy, I have a current day vintage wearer to report.

And so, check out Lucy! Pretty in her pleated, belted pink dress. Stunner. She picked this 80's dress to wear to Chester races, and it brought her 'lovely compliments'.


No surprise as she nattily swapped the matching belt for a contrasting wide one, and accessorised with a flower in her hair and champagne in her hand. Plus gold shoes. (I am a sucker for gold shoes. Even my trainers are gold.)


Question is, alongside the compliments, did it bring Lucy any luck on the horses?!

PS the dress really reminds me of an emerald green one Mulberry have out for AW11. Or is it more the peach Chloe dress, now on sale at Net-A-Porter?







Thanks to Lucy snapping it up, there's no pleated vintage dress from Belle Amie Vintage right now, but if you want the trend, I do have a skirt. With Polk-a-Spots!!



Night, dears. And do send your vintage tale and photos to me and I'll post you on up. Xx

A beaded dress that dreams are made of

She tried to wake up, but couldn't. She was mesmerised by a dress in her dream. It was like something an angel would wear. At a disco. Or maybe ice skating. It was her dream dress.



This was the dress she needed, and as Man in the Mirror came from the stereo, she got up, and looked at herself in the mirror. She was the one who would wear this dress. In all its beaded glory.

Pixie boots, denim dress and t-shirt on, she was out the house.

The detailing she thought, I must find the detailing.





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There's no place like home. There's no place like Paris.

She looked at him, looked over the sea, and then down at her beautiful red shoes on the aged promise of the promenade. And that's where her gaze remained.



Blinking and blinking again, her eyes itched. Where there should be tears she felt a drought, and where there should be sadness, a frozen solid lung.

He stretched out his arms like a zombie possessed, but she could not enter their stiffness. And after rubbing her arms as if she had survived a shock, he took his own back and wrapped them around himself.

She tried to count every diamanté on her satin shoes: If each was a wish, what would I do? Would I magically make my small town discontent disappear? Poof. Would I conjure away my ache for a job in Paris? Kazam. And for friends I've never met? Pazazz.




Then I could stay here. Right here. With him. As me. Would I sense there was a sky full of other lives I could be living, streets I could be walking, birds I could be hearing? Would I wonder? Would I slowly start to yearn? Until my heart broke, or I broke his again? Would my slow build wish be for him to change? My love? Ta dah.

And as the thoughts took over and the diamantés sparkled one by one, she knew that the she she was here, was never her at all. Nothing could change. A life in Paris was her own promise, a promise that she made to herself. She had slaved like Cinderella for this chance, never believing that it would come. Or digesting what it would mean for them. To him.

She clicked together her heels, smiled with one side of her mouth. There's no one like me, there's no one like me. And there's no place like Paris, no place like Paris.

Or love like ours.

She patted his chest, just above his heart, although that was unintended. Turned on her scarlet heels, and walked away. He braced himself. Then turned and walked towards home.

He to his baked beans, patio, car wash on Sundays, daily dog walks and three piece suite. She to power shoes, own office, daily conference calls and walk-in-wardrobe.



They would never speak again, but met often. In moonlit dreams- where boardrooms, childhood roots, 80's ambition, unrealised desires, the shine of the new and the comfort of the old- could never come between them.

In both their dreams, they walked the seafront. And she was always wearing, red sparkling shoes that echoed the stars.



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The mermaid with a black rippling tail

Tiffany had been shown through to the empty hotel restaurant. She could see the movement of people, drinks and dresses in the bar through a narrow archway and mingling cigarette smoke.



The high ceilinged restaurant, despite it's dark wood furniture and neon artwork, was sterile in comparison. She waited. Her own dress ruffled and fanned around her. She rubbed the skirt between her finger and thumb for comfort. This was the dress she had dreamed of. A black mermaid of a dress.




It was lady enough for the restaurant, but edgy enough that she could have walked into the bar and turned heads for being a better version of one of them- glitzy, glamorous, confident and urbane- not a grubby girl with no money or contacts from the back of beyond and nowhere. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that that was because she wasn't. Not anymore.








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The fantasy life of a floral jacket

Naomi loved cats. She wanted one more than anything. But her boyfriend said no. He said they made him sneeze. And he didn't like the damage they could do to the furniture. This made Naomi very sad. She wanted a cat all of her very own more than anything in the whole wide world. But she loved her boyfriend, and he loved his furniture. So that, was that.

She made do by feeding and grooming neighbours' cats. Whenever anyone went on holiday, Naomi was on hand to help out. Charging them nothing, and enjoying every feline minute of it. She was a very popular girl, and the all the neighbours agreed that she was an asset.

Once a week she went to Mrs Kline's house. Originally she had been helping Mrs Kline with her cat. But the older lady had suffered a heart attack, and so now Naomi cleaned for her and brought her flowers to cheer up her flat and make Mrs Kline smile.

Mrs Kline loved the flowers so much that she wanted to thank Naomi. It was difficult for her to go to the shops. So she searched her own wardrobe for something to give her instead. When she saw this jacket, it made her think of Naomi. It was covered in flowers, and the bow at the waist made it look like a gift. She thought Naomi was the best gift anyone could have ever given her. And so she resolved to give the jacket to Naomi. This particular jacket had given her an awful lot of luck in her heyday, she wore it for a job interview at the magazine she would later edit. And she wore it on her ten year anniversary with her husband. A night she would never forget, thanks to the romance, the stars and the dancing.

Naomi thought the jacket was fantastic. She put it on straight away and gave Mrs Kline a twirl. Learning that it brought Mrs Kline luck, she hoped it would do the same for her.

Wearing the jacket reminded Naomi that she was her very own person. And so she paraded around in it whenever she could. Lit up by the compliments she received and the love stories she had heard Mrs Kline tell.

The more she thought about these love stories. The more she questioned her own. Her boyfriend had asked her not to bring friends over anymore. He said that he was allergic to them like he was allergic to cats, and was worried they could do just as much damage to the furniture.

The more she wore the jacket, the more she thought, and the more she questioned. Until one day, she told her boyfriend that she could do it no more. He didn't seem too bothered, and she realised that neither was she. So, she put on her jacket, and went for a much needed breath of fresh air.

THE END

If you want your own jacket with a love story past, click here for a happy ending