My colour of the year for 2016 is...

It occurred to me recently that in the midst of a somewhat rocky, stressful, and very busy start of the year, followed by suddenly being unexpectedly computer-less for all of February, I hadn't yet had a chance to share my colour of the year for 2016 with all of you.

Historically, I've often done my reveal as part of a Flickr Favourites post, but as I opted to retire that series at the end of last year, I no longer had have it available do so in come January and that, too, no doubt played into while I'm only now just getting a chance to blog about it.

In years past, my colour choices have included brown, purple, and green, and the premise behind such is dead simple: after a fair bit of thought and a thorough survey of my current wardrobe, at the start of the year I decide on a colour that I want to add more of to my closet and/or focus on in other areas of my life (here on the blog, home decor, crafting - even cooking, in some cases) and then try to focus on in various enjoyable ways throughout the following twelve months.

This year's choice came to me quite quickly and instantly felt right. I entered 2016 really feeling like I was ready for a clean slate and though such didn't happen entirely, I have been making changes and managing my time (all the more) in ways that have created a degree of such over the past few months.

Seeking an even greater sense of serenity in 2016 as well, this hue was especially logical to me and while it isn't one that we typically wear head-to-toe (save for on our wedding day), it is a gorgeous achromatic colour that has the added bonus of suiting summer's sizzling heat especially well.

As I'm sure you've deducted by now, I'm talking about none other than the colour white!

{Vintage image source}

Technically known as a colour without a hue, white is a delightful mix of all the frequencies that we're able to see on the visible spectrum.

For ages upon ages, it has been associated with things such as tranquility, innocence, newness, stillness, rebirth, care and love, goodness, light, and of course purity. We think of it during winter, at christenings and weddings.

We natural picture it when we think of with winter, soap, clergy, angels, various animals (including unicorns), our eyes, dairy products, hospitals (very much including nurses), and peace, amongst many other things.

Being every inch the neutral that it's dark counterpoint black is, white goes with just about every other colour and shade under the sun and indeed, we need it in order to get many of the hues that we enjoy in all areas of our life, as it softens dark primary and secondary colours to create lighter shades such as pink, peach, and violet.

White enjoyed many moments of great popularity during the 20th century, though perhaps never more adored than during the Edwardian era, when it regained supreme as the lawn/lingerie dress colour choice of countless women the world over (though such frocks and skirt + blouse combos did certainly exist in other, generally pale, shades as well).

{Edwardian image source}

A true classic - and a colour that is worn frequently by both men and women - white has never gone out of style, no matter the prevalent palette of the era and chances are, it never will.

It appeared, for example, on boater hats and beaded bags, kid gloves and linen suits in the 20s and 30s; peasant blouses, gingham patterns, winter knits, and high heels in the 40s; fitted dresses, circle skirts, elegant suits, beaded jewelry, buck shoes, and millinery flower bedecked hats in the 1950s, and lead the pack on the Mod front during the 60s, where it also cropped up in earthy, boho and chicly tailored garments alike, too.

At times, being fair skinned (with pink undertones to my colouring), green eyed and auburn/red haired, white can, in larger doses, be overpowering on me and objectively, as most women in particular will tell you, white is not exactly famous for being the most figure flattering of hues, so in some respects, I've shied away from it at various points in my life.

I always had at least one or two white blouses/button front shirts, pairs of gloves, socks, a few other accessories, and maybe a snow coloured pair of shoes, but it hasn't been until just the past couple of years that I've intentionally sought other solid or primarily white hued pieces.

It's rather unlikely that white will ever eclipse other neutrals like grey, brown, navy blue, and black in my closet, but there is an enchanting quality to this colour that makes me appreciate it and I find that if a garment's fit is truly on point, white can be surprisingly flattering, especially if there's a bit of roominess (say, billowy sleeves on a blouse, for example) to it.

To mark my colour of the year choice, at the start of  2016 I bought a garment that I hadn't owned in more years than I could recall: a solid white dress from Hell Bunny.

Fitted, flirty, sweet and unendingly summery, it is ultimate proof to myself of how far I've come in terms of welcoming white into my wardrobe and with the weather really starting to heat up, not only will I be wearing it, but it may even land here in a blog post of its own.



{Something I'm always keen to add more of to my closet: vintage (or vintage appropriate, as the case may be) white shoes like these mid-century beauties! Vintage image source.}


I don't foresee stocking up on white pieces right, left and center, but I have been enjoying looking for more and seeking out garments, such as that dress, that I didn't previously have in solid white.

I've always adored the pairing of white and classic denim shades, and now that summer is (almost) here, I'm sure I'll be marrying those two, while also letting white shine along side a wide array of other colours, from coral to mint, turquoise to mustard yellow and have already begun thinking of ways to include it more heavily in my fall wardrobe.

So there you have it! :) White is my colour of the year for 2016 (Pantone's, in case you hadn't caught wind of such yet, are rose quartz and serenity blue) and so far I've really been enjoying having the chance to get to know this peaceful hue better.

Are you a fan of white? What decades do you most associate with it? And perhaps most intriguingly of all, would you wear a completely white dress for any occasion other than a wedding?


*PS* I truly want to thank everyone who has shopped my Etsy store's 32% second anniversary sale over the past five days. I've been thrilled to watch nearly 100 vintage and antique items fly off the shelves there in that very brief time and can't begin to tell you all how much I appreciate your stellar support of my shop.

If you haven't picked up a vintage treasure (or ten! :)) for yourself there yet, you'll definitely want head on over and do so today, as this sale will wrap up at midnight tonight and I won't be having another storewide one there again until summertime.

A new dress is a bit like a great wine

Despite what a couple people I know might have you believe, my wardrobe is – by modern standards – definitely not massive. It’s wonderful, beloved, and filled with well curated pieces, the overwhelming majority of which are vintage, repro, or vintage appropriate, but it isn’t Hollywood starlet sized by any stretch of the imagination.

It’s not every day that I add a new piece to my closet, be it something as small as a pair of lace gloves or as hefty as a winter wool coat, and new dresses are certainly not an item that comes my way all the time. This isn’t uncommon of course for many of us, but because dresses are (as a whole) my favourite type of garment, I’m prone to really savouring the experience when I do get a new (to me) one.

This past summer my mom and step-dad very sweetly wanted to give me a dress for my birthday (how awesome is that?) and so, knowing the budget I had to work with, I spent an evening searching for a summery vintage frock that would absolutely take my breath away.





I was thrilled to find such a garment, pictured above (from UK based etsy reproduction seller Oh Sew Vintage), in just one night and couldn’t order it fast enough. The dress arrived in good time and shortly after it got here, my mom asked if she could see it in person (she'd already seen the listing photos).

I ran to get it right away, beaming with happiness over the fact that it was even lovelier in real life than in the online shots. She asked me if I was going to wear it for a certain event we had coming up, and I said that while I’d thought about it, there were more reasons not to, than to do so, and as such I wouldn’t be wearing it that day. No worries, I assured her though, I’d be christening it very soon (and indeed I did).

Sometimes however, even when I love a dress madly, I hold off on wearing it right off the bat. I let it gather a little more age on the bar in my closet. I pull it out and look at it, admiring the fabric, cut, details, darling vintage buttons, and imagine how I’ll style it the first time, where I might sport it to, and if I’ll end up adoring it even more once I’ve taken it out for an inaugural spin.

I like having a dress or two in the wings, frocks that haven’t yet been worn, just waiting for a big event like the Christmas holidays, an anniversary or birthday, or perhaps simply something marvelous and fresh to don on an evening out on the town with Tony.

And so, later that night after my mom asked to see my new dress, it struck me that in a way that I see the garments I purchase as each being akin to an excellent bottle of wine, gathered and stored lovingly in a cellar for just the right meal, event, or random Tuesday that needs perking up when they'll be wholeheartedly relished and fully experienced for the first time.

Though I do not have a closet's worth of unworn pieces by any means, I generally do have a dress, skirt, or other piece (or two) that has yet to be uncorked (aka, worn) and which I’m thrilled to know is waiting for just the right moment, when I’ll bring it out of the dark (of my closet) and enjoy it for the first time in all its pleasurable, wonderful glory.

And to that fact I cannot help but raise a glass and voice a resounding "cheers"! 

Summer wardrobe vs winter wardrobe

For years I maintained that my favourite time of the year to dress for was the colder months that make up autumn and winter. At the time, I had more cold weather appropriate clothes than those suited to warmer temps hanging in my closet and so this opinion was only natural. Over the past year or so however, a shift has occurred (thanks in large part to successfully filling in some of the glaring gaps in my wardrobe that I chatted about back at in January) and the balance now veers more towards spring and summer.

I'm not bothered by this shifting of the scales, I just find it fascinating, as it may very well be the first time (at least in my adult life) that such has ever occurred. Beyond the garments themselves, I catch myself thinking about how, as winter's wrath looms ever nearer, it will soon be bitingly cold and fearfully snowy once again, which means that more vintage outfit posts will need to be snapped indoors (or in outdoor locations that are sheltered from the elements - though, lest you just want to see my winter coat time and time again, indoor posts will become a must).




{The November-y vibe of this beautifully illustrated autumn 1947 cover of Town and Country magazine looks a lot like the view outside my window right now, and is what got me thinking about the topic of today's post. Image via mikeyashworth on Flickr.}



While I have a lovely collection of summer dresses, skirts, and even a few more pairs of shoes than I started 2012 off with, I won't be running around town in the same outfit all fall and winter. My beloved cardigan and lightweight knit collection is a cornerstone of my wardrobe that comes into play no matter the season, and of course staples like my Freddie's jeans and overalls, as well as my heavier weight skirts, blazers, and dresses are already springing back into action.

So the question becomes, which half of the year (because, let's face it, the old joke about their only being three seasons in Canada - winter, summer, and hockey - rings true more often than not) is my favourite to dress for these days?

Truth be told, I'm not sure. I think that I'll be better able to answer that question when spring 2013 rolls around and I've had a winter of putting together outfits with my current, expanded wardrobe under my vintage belt. I see the pros and cons of each, and have reasons why I adore each one.

Summer means sheer stockings or bare legs, toes poking out of cute wedge heels, feather light fabrics, crisp white blouses, and hair that never needs to worry about being squashed by a hood or toque.

Winter on the other hand however, brings with it the return of sumptuous, tactilely pleasing fabrics like velvet, suede, and cashmere. It never bats an eye when you but a cardigan over a blouse over a cami, tucking the trio into a wool pencil skirt after you slip into an opaque pair of tights. It's cosy and familiar, and in some ways easier to dress for if you're not one (and I'm certainly not) who likes to flash an abundance of skin.

Ultimately I see it less as a question of summer vs winter and more about the enjoyable challenge of making as many pieces in my closet work for as much of the year as possible, just as I know many of your stylish gals do, too.

Though, I'm sure, come the end of February I'll be champing at the bit to slip into a short sleeve, super airy cotton dress and little more once again, for the time being, I'm utterly content that fall/winter is here and am genuinely excited about dressing for the freezing cold season (must be the Canadian in me talking!).

Inquiring minds would love to know where you weigh in on this topic? What season, or half, of the year do you most like to dress for more, my dears?

Hunting for really good clothes hangers

Did you know that in the US alone, since the late 1800s, clothes hangers have been awarded over 200 different patents? Neither did I until I started researching this everyday workhorse of the wardrobe world, but it turns out they have - and many more designs have existed around the world for ages (some sources cite Thomas Jefferson as having invented a forerunner of the modern wooden hanger).

For as long as humans have worn clothing (unless everything they had was carried on their person at all times), we've needed places in which to store our duds. From chests of draws to towering wardrobes, footlockers to suitcases, clothing - which gives us so much and asks so little in return - always needs someplace to live when not being worn.

At some point (I suspect fairly early on), modern man (or woman!) came up with the idea of a closet, and the rest, as they say, is history. Few of us these days are without at least one closet in our homes, and most have several. Some closets are designed solely for shelves, but most intended for clothing have a bar (or multiple bars) on which we lovingly dangle our wardrobes.

The closet that I have at present is, to say the least, on the pocket sized side of things! From the bar to the shelve to the space on the floor, I've carefully crammed as much into that itsy-bitsy bit of space as I can - which is all the more reason why I'm thrilled about the fact that our new house is going to have a larger (slightly walk-in!) closet.

While I won't be giving a Hollywood starlet a run for her money in the closet department anytime soon, I'll joyfully take any increase in clothes storage space I can get - especially because I've already got more clothes, shoes, and accessories than my current closet can house.

One thing I picked up on ages ago is that, generally speaking, the less bulky your hangers, the more you're able to comfortably fit onto one closet bar. At the moment we're using a mixture of wood and plastic hangers, most of which were picked up from Walmart, Zellers or Canadian Tire. They're perfectly fine hangers, but most of them could be a little thinner, if you ask me.

{While I don't want to contradict myself, if I could find a stash of super cute 1950s plastic hangers like these darling children's ones, I might just be willing to give up some closet bar space for them Image via galessa's plastics on Flickr.}

 

I've also grown rather fond of the idea of all of my hangers looking unified and completely matchy-matchy (in a nod to said starlet's closet, which - at least the ones I've seen in magazines - often tend to have rows of perfectly matching hangers). As such I thought it was high time I started testing the waters in terms of what's out there on the hanger front.

Unfortunately, living in Canada, we don't have the abundance or array or organizational, department, or big box stores that the fine folks in the States do from which to shop for hangers, but there are still some options. That said, on top of the three chains mentioned above, there are handful of spots at which to find hangers including (but not limited to) Winners, Ikea, Home Sense, and Bed, Bath & Beyond. Based on my online research last week, the latter has the largest selection, hands down.

As much as I love frilly, girly, padded hangers (think back to those floral print ones that were all the rage in the 80s and 90s), if you’re aiming to save closet bar space, they are not the best choice for your primary hanger (though it's a good idea to usually have a few padded ones on hand for particularly delicate or otherwise special garments that you might not want to rest on plastic, flocked, or wood hangers).

Instead, when space is at a premium, you'll probably want to go with slim line or ultra hangers, which are generally made from plastic (that's often covered in a soft flocking to help hold garments in place). It's these svelte little sweeties that I'm thinking may very well be what my closet (in both it's current and future state) is longing for.

Before plunking down any cold, hard cash on new hangers though, I'm thoroughly curious to know what kind all of you use (and/or love the most) in your closet.

As I know many of yours are too, the bulk of my wardrobe is comprised of vintage pieces, so I'd never opt for metal or anything with the potential to harm my clothes. I need to keep my budget in mind, but am ok with paying a little more if the quality is really top top-notch.

So, my lovelies, please let me know what sort hangers you adore most. I’ll be here, hanger-ing out for your replies , and will let you know which ones I decide to go with in a future post .

Mind the wardrobe gaps

While living abroad in Europe a few years back, I got to experience long distance rail travel for the first time. Though various Canadian cities have local train (light rail) systems and there is certainly a cross country rail line (Via Rail), the later is often very pricey and can involve days of one's time to reach distant destinations (so it's not generally most peoples’ first mode of long distance transportation), and isn't nearly as wallet-friendly as most European rail lines.

During the process of boarding and later stepping off of trains throughout that beautiful continent, one is (especially in the UK and Ireland) greeted with a sign that says "Mind the gap". This warning is to remind passengers to be careful of the space that often exists between the entrance (door) of the train and the platform onto which they're supposed to step. On most occasions the gap was a tiny one, but every now and then you did need to take a bit of a running leap to make sure you didn't plummet down onto the rails.

Today's post however has little (beyond what we just discussed) to do with train travel and much more to do with my take on that classic, cautionary railroad station poster.

Lately, you see, as we've begun to pack for our upcoming move, I've been giving my closet a good once over, examining each garment and accessory, shoe and bag. Having done so, I can tell you that there are more than a few really basic pieces missing (or in short supply), and so the words "mind the wardrobe gaps" sprang to mind a few weeks ago.

I couldn't help but smile as they did, for I think the expression makes a lot of sense. For quite some time I've been aware of these (figurative) holes, yet have worked - or jumped - over them as best I could.

Over the past three years in particular I've, more often than not, been housebound due to my health, so I felt it hard to justify buying much in the way of new (be it vintage or otherwise) clothing (and let me tell you, for a vintage fashionista like me, that was not easy!).

Soon however, we'll be leaving Toronto and heading to my home province of B.C., which means that there will be many more occasions for get-togethers, even if (as I highly suspect many will) they take place at our house, and this means that the time has come to - with a predetermined budget squarely in mind - fix a good many of these wardrobe gaps.

Naturally, as you may imagine, this is a task that I take on with a rather generous amount of glee. Shopping for vintage clothing is amongst my very favourite activities and it's fantastic to know that I'll once again be growing my wardrobe, filling it as I do with pieces that I truly need.

In the process of sleuthing around the web for bargains on everything from black pencil skirts to repro vintage jeans (Freddies of Pinewood, something of a splurge, I'm the first to admit, have already been ordered), it can be all too easy to fall into the "ooooohhh pretty trap", by which I mean that you're easily swayed away from your original shopping list into buying something gorgeous, just because it beckons your name.

A treat or two is alright, but I'm trying to follow the list of garments I'm shopping for very diligently - no side tracking for this vintage shopper.

A shortlisted version of my current vintage (by which I mean genuine vintage, vintage repro or modern pieces that look thoroughly vintage) shopping inventory includes the following:

-A black (or other dark coloured) cocktail dress

-A 1950s black (or brown, navy or dark grey) daywear dress

-A formal daywear dress (of the sort that would be perfect to wear to a wedding)

-Dark/neutral hued vintage repro/style trousers (I'm thinking Heyday or Big Beautiful Barbara Brown as possible sources)

-Both a short-sleeved and long-sleeved white blouse (in 40s/early 50s styles)

-More crinolines (a hunt that's been going on for quite a while, as long time readers may recall from this post on the subject that I wrote nearly two years ago)

-More neutral hued vintage gloves (picked up four pairs from various etsy sellers for a song already, so I should be well covered there for the moment)

-A pair of saddle shoes (ok, I'll admit it, this one is a bit more of a longstanding want than a true need, but I've been pining for a pair since I outgrew the pink and white ones I had as a little girl, so that just about qualifies them as a need!)

There are other entries on this list, too, some of which I've crossed off already, but in the coming weeks, the items mentioned here are the ones that I'll likely be focusing a lot of my attention on.

So far all of my shopping has been done online, as I suspect the bulk (if not the entirety) of it will be when all is said and done.

{While online shopping doesn't give one quite the same ease of trying on garments as purchasing in a real world store does, it is still a huge blessing and fantastic way to help vintage fashionistas (like yours truly) track down whatever items may be on their sartorial shopping lists from the comfort of their one’s own home. Charming late 1950s image via Captain Geoffrey Spaulding on Flickr.}

 

I'm trying to pick up most of these pieces before we move so that my closet will be a lot better equipped to handle the plethora of potential situations I may need to dress for once we land in British Columbia.

While some things do overlap, this list is not the same as my vintage wish list. That is one focused more on whimsy and daydreams (and likely requires the winning of a sizeable lottery to finance it), this is one of good old-fashioned practicality.

It's about picking up lovely, quality, basic pieces that will help stretch the other items in my closet a lot further, while giving me greater confidence when I go to get dressed - knowing I'll (hopefully) no longer be without some pretty basic pieces.

I've been minding those wardrobe gaps for a long time - too long perhaps - but the moment has come to plant my feet firmly on the proverbial platform and take charge of the situation!

And who knows, perhaps, when all is said and done, by budget might even leave from for one or two of those delightful little pretty pieces that aren't truly necessary, but oh-so-wonderful to hang in one's closet.

Wish me luck, dear gals - I shall keep you all informed of how my shopping turns out in future posts.

My goth meets vintage inspired Halloween costume

✯ Day 308 of Vintage 365 ✯

It's been a long time...a very long time (the better part of two years, if memory serves me right) since I last posted an image of myself here on Chronically Vintage. A point that is, I assure you, in now way intentional.

Instead it stems primarily from the fact that my health has been so poor that, quite honestly, I am rarely well enough to go out and when I do, it's almost always for medical appointments. Though you better believe I sport vintage fashions on those days (and on the ones around the house when I feel well enough to be dressed), exhaustion and stress usually wear heavily on my face, so I'm not too keen on having my picture snapped.

Another element is that, while I adore writing about vintage fashion, CV never set out to be a fashionista's blog in the sense of frequently showing outfits I wear. Nevertheless, again though, it's been too long since I last posted any snaps of myself, so today I'm rectifying that with some images that my sweet husband captured of me around dusk on Halloween night last Monday.

The light had already faded substantially, so we had to up the ISO quite a bit (so hence the grain), but in a way I like how that adds to the aged, delightfully eerie vibe of these All Hallows Eve shots.

Decked all in black, with a darker, more goth take on my favourite vintage make-up look, my outfit intentionally channelled Mortica Addams (we'd just watched the movie Addams Family Values the night before, so that was completely fresh in my mind and seemed like a fun jumping off point for my Halloween night ensemble).

 

A quite night (we only got three trick-or-treaters, but I'm not complaining, as that beat out the past two years when we didn't get any at all) spent at home, watching spooky TV shows and movies while nibbling sweet treats was how we spent our Halloween this year.

(Next year I'd love to get a store bought costume, perhaps of a Victorian or Georgian era style dress, but we'll just have to wait and see how things unfold.)

I'm constantly inspired by the beautiful, creative, timeless looks that so many of you create and share on your own blogs, and while I can't promise overly frequent wardrobe posts here, I will try to not let quite so long go by before I share photos of myself with all of you again (in fact, I've already got a post planned in the near future featuring my lovely new vintage winter coat).