Fitting fifties

The quickest of posts to share a photo of Gabriela from Austria, dressed in an original pink 50's jumper. It's the colour and texture of a cloud at dawn. And the bows at the sleeves are to die for.

And, ladies and gents, don't she wear it well?

And so on trend for autumn 2011. Nod to heritage? Check. Knee high boots? Check. Midi skirt? Check. Handbag held, not worn? Check. Outdoor paradise of a background? Check.

Just wish she could come visit and style our Belle Amie Vintage shoots too.

Thanks, Gabriela (x). Cannot wait to see you in the spotted pleated skirt which is currently on its way to you. And to take note of how you style it... 

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

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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Blooming pretty in 50's pink

Quick break from fictional tales to feature a frothy lace and net dress in candy floss pink, and its reality star vintage wearer and sky gazer Ingrid:

"This dress is stunning! I'm very excited. Hoping to wear it to a wedding or two this summer..."

Ingrid's heart leapt and bounced for this dress as soon as she saw it on ASOS Marketplace, but we emailed a couple of times to be sure it would fit her shape and needs.

"I just hope it fits. I love it!"

Then I swathed it in glitter wrap and got the dress on it's way to it's rightful modern day owner to be worn to a wedding.

And... "it fits like a glove! Like it was made for me. Boyfriend gave it the thumbs up. So Grace Kelly. Woop woop!"

My own heart leapt with pride when I saw Ingrid in the dress. It looks a-MA-zing with her temptress hair, floral accessory and blush detailing, no?

Ingrid said, "I wore it to a wedding this weekend and got SOOOOO many compliments."

Not surprised, Ingrid knows how to do style in swishing skirts.




Thank you Ingrid for shopping with Belle Amie Vintage and letting me share these pretty as a picture actual pictures. I hope you get lots more wear from this sumptuous dress. And to hear all about it.




If you've made a Belle Amie Vintage purchase and would like to see it here, email me a picture and tell me the tale of its outing... Hoping for a happy ending. Xxx


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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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Wendy's roly-poly meeting with destiny in blue

When Wendy woke up at about 7am, one of her favourite tracks was playing on the radio. Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen. She had no idea then how apt the song was. It had her name in it, and that was enough to give her bounce.

Her clothes were all over the floor. Spilling out into the hallway and draped over the banisters. She picked up the blue dress that made her walk tall and blew in the breeze. Flip flops, floppy hat, raffia handbag... she was out the door only a few songs later.

She headed for her favourite picnic spot. A meadow with wild flowers in bloom, an old gnarly tree and a slow moving river as blue as her dress. She'd meet Shelia there. Sheila would bring food and drink. And the grass was so soft there was no need for a blanket or mat.

As Wendy wandered, she could hear music. But this was no Bruce Springsteen. It was nothing she had ever heard before... magical tinkling music that drew her closer and ever closer. Then closer even still. Her smile grew bigger and even bigger with every one of her quickened steps. Until it was as wide as her face and as bright as the moon.

In front of her was a red and white striped tent. A small moustached man came out. He flicked the gleaming tails of his coat, and bellowed: Roll up, roll up.

Sheila was nowhere to be seen. So Wendy did just that, and roly-polyed all the way to the dandy man. He welcomed her in and asked her to be seated. And so, hey presto, she was.

  

The man introduced himself as Maestro Mike the Moustached Maverick, and kissed her determinedly. It was not unpleasant. Although one end of his curled moustache did go inside her otherwise care-free nostril. She smiled and tried not to sneeze.

He said that her roly-polies were the finest most delightful he had ever seen, and she should join the circus.

'The circus,' she sighed. 'The circus'. And in that moment, not only a dream was born, but Wendy's whole entire future. She pronounced that she would spend the rest of the 70's on tour, and the Maverick said it was a splendid idea. He showed her around the tent, and introduced her to all the animals, clowns, strong men and acrobats, until she couldn't remember any more names, manes or muscles.

He found her a hula hoop that perfectly matched the blue of her dress and told her to roly-poly through it. She jumped, and did just that. Now Mike wanted to do more than just kiss her, and because he had become her destiny, she went with him to his caravan and only awoke once the circus was back on tour.

From then on, she was known as the Beauty in Blue and all her dresses were the very same colour as this one, and all the crowds cheered. She was born to run, born to run away, run away with the circus.

If you would like the very same blue dress to go and find your own destiny, click right here.

Second class workers, second hand clothes, second class citizens?

Not all movies that inspire vintage lovers were made in the era whose fashions they showcase. Films produced now should get a mention too. And especially those that remind us there are women to whom we owe a great deal. A great deal of our pay packet in fact.







When Made in Dagenham came out, I was excited for two reasons:

1. The late 60's fashion we'd get to see on film, of course, I dressed up in a yellow 60's shift when I went to see it.
2. But more importantly, the reminder that inspirational women stood up and fought for equal rights and equal pay.







As a self declared feminist, I am frequently disappointed by women who refuse the title, ascribing it to hairy unattractive women who probably hate men anyway. Not. The. Case. Bill Bailey (pictured below in a Fawcett Society t-shirt may be hairy, but...)








A feminist is a person who believes in equal and fair rights for men and women. And that is what the women in Made in Dagenham are all about. We can learn more from them than simple fashion lessons. We can learn how to fight, why to fight and what the outcome of victory could mean for women kind and human kind for years to come.

I raise this now because we are at a time when feminists are needed. Political, economic and cultural changes mean that we are not at a point when we can take our eye off the balls (couldn't resist).

If you're in doubt, consider what has been happening in the UK and further afield over the past few months:

- Kenneth Clarke, our Secretary of Justice, implied that date rape was not 'serious rape'. This is not just a matter of semantics. Until 1991, a husband could not rape his wife, marriage meant an agreement by the wife to have sex with her husband. Having an exemption like this turned over in the courts requires a ground swell of citizens, and a strong government who understands the complexities of rape. This change happened 20 years ago. If Ken Clarke had been in power then, would it have happened? A man who fails to label date rape as serious. What would he have done when faced with a marital rape case?

- Only 31% of councillors are women. If progress continues at current rates, it will be another 150 years before women are equally represented.

- The recent much criticised Slut Walk was first organised by a group of young women in Canada, angry that their Chief of Police told them to dress modestly to avoid rape. The media treated this as a joke, and many failed to grasp or explore the real freedom and rights these women were marching for. If you want to get an idea of the reaction, just read this piece in the Spectator. The writer likens a woman wearing a short skirt to leaving your window open at home and expecting not to be burgled. Seriously.

- And if you want to get back to the issue of equal pay, women are still paid an average of 15.5% less than men. This is 40 years since the Equal Pay Act which the brave women portrayed in this film fought for

I am sorry that this post has turned into an unashamed feminist rant, but surely we should all be angry right now? And yes we can dress like vintage sluts at the same time.







If you need any more convincing, or just want to find out what you can do, then get to The Fawcett Society- read, support, join.

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Leaves me breathless

I'm not disciplined enough to do this neatly and by decade or anything like that. I'm just going to throw down characters in films, books and plays who inspire vintage fashion... any which way I can.

First up, personifying cool, the independent Patricia Franchini.

Played by Jean Seberg in cult movie, Breathless. Written and directed by Jean-Luc Godard in 1960.

Patricia is the female lead. And an icon. Her outfits never look premeditated, just perfect, calm and with not an even ounce of prissiness. Just like her character.




Who doesn't love a simple Breton stripe? Especially when in Paris, surrounded by art. Here I am, unwittingly influenced by the image a few years back.



Unlike many of us, Patricia manages to make her uniform look chic. And in it she attracts the cad of the film, even when he should be concentrating on other things. Like running from the police. It's not just the fashion that's thrilling.

But getting back to it, isn't this one of the first and finest examples of a girl in a t-shirt with print emblazoned across the chest? Maybe. And check out those cropped trousers and flats. Ta da.




But she doesn't just do casual. This full circle skirt, nipped in at the waist, is the stuff that fashion (wet) dreams are of.



Happily I have a similar dress as part of my current collection. It is red and charcoal horizontal stripes. Add shoes, gloves and the sunglasses to match and we could almost recreate the scene. If only the young roguish Jean Paul Belmondo was as easy to find.


(Yes, that is my bathroom. I must get a full length mirror. One day I'll fall in.)

If you'd like to buy the dress, or just try it on, let me know. It is size 8-10 and £85. The colour makes it ideal for the upcoming festivities.

PS I gave my hand towel a thorough folding after this.