Like many girls I have always loved dressing up. As a child I spent many happy hours in theatre dressing rooms gazing at the beautiful costumes that all played their part in a story. Dresses and stories have been synonymous for me ever since. It is so easy nowadays to see clothing as something that is easily replaced and forgotten to make way for the new, however everything we have worn has been part of our life stories in some way, clothing us as it would a character in a novel or play. Woven into the fabric becomes memories, places, people... How wonderful it would be if we could know the history of all those vintage and second hand things we buy... I have dresses that I must sell but I don't want to lose the memory that each one holds. Here is my personal space to recall each ones story as I say goodbye...

Wednesday, 3 April 2013

The Parisian Polka Dot

So I took a solo coach trip to Milan, a ridiculous 36 hour idea anyway but made worse by Queens Jubilee London traffic causing the coach to miss the once a day connection in Paris. Arriving at 2am alone in Paris... Hmmm. One nights accommodation in Paris paid for by coach company...Hurrah! The serendipitous 23 and a bit hours were spent in my favourite haunts such as Shakespeare and Company where a singer and piano player entertained as I perused the beautiful books, lunch overlooking the Notre Dame and an afternoon at the Pompidou Centre. Here I developed a devious plan to escape having to meet for coffee with an over friendly and persistant gentleman...Hurrah! Only to spot him later in a nearby street....Hmmm. Diving into a lovely little secondhand shop to hide I spotted this little beauty...Hurrah! I arrived in Milan happily the next day and wore this in the sun. I wore it again a week later on my return to the UK. It rained.

 

Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)