Millinery
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fashionmusicmahem.wordpress.com/2019/08/27/nothing-comes-...
"Go on over there
Turn on the light
No all the lights
Come over here
Stand on this chair
That's right
Raise your arms up into the air
Now shake 'em
You give me a reason to live
You give me a reason to live"
"'Neath the waves where moonlit ribbons gleam,
She trims her hats with seaweed, pearls, and dreams.
A thimble carved from shell upon her hand,
She stitches foam like lace from glistening sand.
Her brimmed creations bloom with starfish bright —
A mermaid’s millinery, stitched from sea and light."
A poetic offering written by your humble photographer (2026).
The theme for "Looking Close on Friday" for Friday the 27th of February is "dried plants". In my library of antiquarian books, I have a few albums of tobacco cards and one very interesting dark green leather volume embossed with gilded letters, declaring it to be a book of sea weeds, ferns and flowers, which I bought at an auction many years ago. Entered into a Women's Work Exhibition in the late 1800s by Helen Stead, the book consists of fifty pages of the most beautifully pressed and catalogued seaweed specimens, each with their botanical names written in an elegant hand in pencil in the corner of every page. Because the book sits closed, and has for over a century, except for the occasional turning of the pages by its owner, the seaweeds still retain the most vibrant of colours. Therefore, when the theme was announced, although I press flowers profusely, and have some lovely examples between the pages of many of my books, I could not look past this wonderful book by Helen Stead, created for a Women's Work Exhibition more than a hundred years ago. The page I chose features a very delicate dried and pressed example of Dasyphilia - which is a term related to a genus of red algae (Rhodophyta) in the family Ceramiaceae, specifically Dasyphilia plumarioides. I have added to it for my own interest and amusement, a business card, advertising Mrs. G. P. Stanton's Millinery and Fancy Goods (haberdashery) of Norwich in Connecticut, from around the same time as Helen Stead's amazing book of seaweed specimens. I added the business card because it features a wonderful chromolithographed image of beautiful shells, seaweed and two mermaids, which got me to thinking that this Dasyphilia seaweed would make a wonderful feathery plume for a mermaid's hat! I hope you like my choice for this week's theme, and that it makes you smile!
By the way, after extensive research, I could not find anything about the creator of the wonderful book of pressed, dried seaweed specimens, Helen Stead, but I do know that her painstaking efforts won her a five pound award for her submission!
On the northeast corner of W. Main and Race St., across the street from the Bennett Building (drug store) featured earlier in this series, is the Cohen Building. Completed in 1907, the classical revival style structure was designed by Urbana architect Joseph W. Royer (1873-1954), a University of Illinois School of Architecture graduate and the man who designed the magnificent Champaign County Courthouse.
When it opened in 1907, the Cohen Building contained many different businesses, such as Nathan Cohen’s cigar factory on the second floor, offices at the street level, an ice cream and candy store on the east side with an adjacent barber shop, and the Urbana Banking Company’s headquarters in the corner. A tailor shop was added in 1909 at the back of the building while the same previous businesses remained After Cohen retired from the cigar business in 1913, the full expansion of the offices, bank and commercial stores was established. The Cohen building continues as a professional office and commercial building.
To the east (right) of the Cohen Building are two single story buildings connected by a common wall. Both buildings were completed in 1885 and are nearly identical in detailing. 130 W. Main, next to the Cohen Building, historically was a millinery shop and barber shop, and is now a legal office. The building next to it at 126 W. Main, historically was a flower shop, and is now a restaurant known as the Dancing Dog Eatery and Juicery.
The Cohen Building, along with 130 W. Main and 126 W. Main lie within the Joseph W. Royer Arts and Architecture District in the heart of old Urbana, and are contributing buildings within the Downtown Urbana Historic District listed in 2019 on the National Register of Historic Places.
Urbana is the seat of Champaign County. Located in east central Illinois, the twin cities of Urbana and Champaign are the home of the University of Illinois. The population of Champaign County at the 2020 census was 205,865.
"A woman can be overdressed but never over elegant." – Gabrielle (Coco) Chanel
The theme for “Smile on Saturday” for the 28th of May is “headwear in square”, which can be any kind of headwear, so long as it is cropped into a square image. Anyone who follows my photostream knows that I love and collect 1:12 size miniatures which I photograph in realistic scenes. The artifice of recreating in minute detail items in 1:12 scale always amazes me, and it’s amazing how the eye can be fooled. Therefore, when the theme came up, I immediately thought of some of my miniature artisan hats, which really are exquisite little pieces of art in their own right. 1:12 size miniature hats made to such exacting standards of quality and realism are often far more expensive than real hats are. When you think that one would sit comfortably on the tip of your index finger, yet it could cost in excess of $150.00 or £100.00, makes them an extravagance. American artists seem to have the monopoly on this skill and some of the hats that I have seen or acquired over the years are remarkable. I have selected five of my favourites for you today. I hope you like my choice for the theme this week, and that it makes you smile.
Going clockwise from the top left-hand corner:
“Shona” (yes, this hat actually has a name, just like hats from the Golden Age of Fashion) is a purple Edwardian toque in the style popular just before and after the Great War. Made of soft velvet, she is covered in silk flowers and lace and is made by Miss Amelia’s Miniatures in the Canary Islands. It is an artisan miniature made just like a real hat, right down to a tag in the inside of the crown to show where the back of the hat is!
The camel coloured wide brimmed Edwardian picture hat is made of brown felt and is trimmed with miniature coffee coloured braid. The brim is decorated with hand curled feathers, dyed to match the shade of the hat, as well as a spray of golden “grapes” and dyed flowers. Acquired from an American miniatures collector who was divesting herself of some of her collection, I am unsure who the maker was, other than both this and the green hat were made by the same American miniature artisan.
The romantic cream wide brimmed summer hat decorated with pink satin roses and ribbons, and trimmed on the underside with the finest lace, is reminiscent of the style of hats worn and made popular by the Queen Mother (then the newly minted Duchess of York) in the mid 1920s. The maker for this hat is unknown, but it is a part of a larger collection of 1:12 artisan hats and miniature accessories I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel.
The yellow straw hat decorated with ornamental flowers and an organza ribbon of lemon yellow is of late 1920s to early 1930s style. The maker for this hat is also unknown, but is another piece from the collection I bought from American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel.
The green coloured wide brimmed Edwardian picture hat is made of bright green felt and is trimmed with miniature turquoise coloured braid. The brim is decorated with hand curled feathers, dyed to match the shade of the hat, as well as a spray of silver silk flowers. Acquired from an American miniatures collector who was divesting herself of some of her collection, I am unsure who the maker was, other than both this and the camel hat were made by the same American miniature artisan.
By Emma Moscow displayed at Open Studio at Proteus Arts Centre Basingstoke. www.emmamoscowmillinery.co.uk/bespoke-millinery/
Visit designbynami.com to check out Naama's hats, and imagealchemyconsulting.com for all your styling and image consultation needs!
Come One, Come All, To The Royal Halloween Ball!
Please don't forget your costume, since its a masquerade, regal masks will be given at the door, by Penelope Withers and Cherrie Bigsby..
Date: Hallows Eve
Place: Moonridge Country Club
Time: 8pm til the Moon Sets in the Clouds.
Cordially,
Lisa Kettell
______________________________
Here is an uplcose look at Sierra Made from a variety of techniques, crushed shells, crepe paper, vintage millinery and more. I call this dollie: Sierra The Sea Pageant Queen!
Magic and Joy!
Lisa!
Sold!
The We're Here! gang is looking for shopping carts in the wild today. This is staged (obvi) so I won't put it in the shopping cart group...
The story behind this little trolly:
My lifelong friend Robin and I, in our late teens (or was it early 20s?), used to roam about in Vancouver's East End late at night. We liked walking up and down the alleys and residential streets -- you always saw interesting things. Almost every time we did this, we found shopping carts lying about. If we didn't see one right away, we would stand on a corner and bellow, "SHOPPING CAAAAAART!" We would always find one right after doing that. No, seriously!
One of us would get in the shopping cart, and the other would push. We would take turns pushing each other up and down the streets, laughing like maniacs. Many years later, she gave me this cute little shopping cart to remind me of those fun times.
The #MacroMondays #Swag challenge
A 1cm square lapel badge from the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds, superglued to my rucksack. They fall off, y'know. A nice lady at one of their reserves insisted I took it when I presented my membership card to gain entry one morning.
Upper class Victorian ladies liked birds. Or, more accurately, they liked their plumage and, let's face it, a bird does not last long without it, particularly when they are shot to obtain it. Emily Williamson liked birds too, but she preferred them to be in one piece and flapping a bit. In 1889 she and a number of like-minded other ladies created The Society for the Protection of Birds, specifically to oppose the fashion for the murderous millinery which allowed the hats of the more fashionable ladies in society to be adorned with the gorgeous feathers of great crested grebes, egrets, birds of paradise and the like. After all, the male-only British Ornithologists Union was doing nothing about it. So it was left to the ladies to write to the papers, speak to shopkeepers who stocked feathers, contact those who wore them and to persuade the greatest fashion-setters of the age, The Royal Family, to change their own taste in hats. Progress was made. In 1899, Queen Victoria instructed those of her regiments which wore osprey feathers in their headdress to stop doing so. 10 years after it started, the campaign was clearly gaining traction.
In quite rapid order (1904) the society gained Royal Charter status and in 1921 The Importation of Plumage (Prohibition) Act was passed. It was a good start, but great crested grebes are as British as robins and sparrows are, so their plumes did not have to be imported. Still work to do then, but this was the first successful campaign by the RSPB. From that humble yet important single issue beginning, the RSPB has evolved into an influential organisation with a membership of over a million. It speaks for our birds and thereby indirectly for all flora and fauna, exerting pressure home and abroad, running over 170 reserves in the UK. Access to reserves is free to members and is a cheap (or is that cheep?) day out for others.
The stylised bird used for its logo is an avocet, a bird extinct in the UK before it bred at RSPB Minsmere and which is now widespread enough to be seen with pleasure but not much surprise from train journeys where the tracks pass through the appropriate habitats.
Another success attaches to ospreys, which, having been persecuted to extinction in the UK, unexpectedly returned to breed at Loch Garten in 1954. Egg collectors raided their nest, but undeterred the birds returned the following year. The RSPB mounted a 24/7 guard on the nest, resulting in a successful breeding season. Although still scarce, ospreys, summer migrants to the UK and at the very north of their range, now breed at various places throughout the UK. The organisation also encouraged marsh harriers to breed at and spread from Minsmere. In 1971 that reserve had the UK's only breeding pair. Today there are around 600 pairs at various sites, still a very scarce bird, but improving. The RSPB was also involved in the successful reintroduction of red kites in The Chilterns. I now see them fairly regularly 100 miles away. Avocets and red kites are no longer on the UK conservation red list, but there is no reason for complacency. Of all birds, the house sparrow is regarded as common, yet its numbers have crashed and it was added to the red list on the very day the red kite was taken off it.
Incidentally, Minsmere has a cafe which serves quite superb cakes. It's almost a pity to leave them behind to do a bit of birdwatching, but I digress. The photo was taken as shown using 32mm of extension tubes. It's a colour photo of a very monochrome subject.
HMM all.
made with vintage millinery sourced on my recent trip to cali! each is one of a kind... the woodland one is one of my favorites (center,) but they are all special.
Women in a millinery shop, Sydney, I July 1952, ON 388/Box 059/Item 115 collection.sl.nsw.gov.au/record/nZNWbXEn/xDlW5DBxlBD6w
inside an old crumpled brown checkbook box i found a bundle of tissue paper and this is what was inside!
happy day
Hat Making book by publisher Ondori (Japan), I think it is created by Clover Japan to promote their Hat template kits (they have two kits in retail - one for caps and one for hats). Sorry I cant read Japanese.
ISBN978-4-277-49057-3. I bought this book at Kinokuniya bookstore at SDG$7.50.
Clover Japan website www.clover.co.jp
Collaboration between myself and Hilda Westervelt (Bellissima Couture) for Live Auction at "Kenvention" 2015
Starting this week with a flourish of scintillating confections, exuberant creations, magnificent millinery, and beautiful women at a wedding in Donegal. Our long time expert on matters millinery, La Belle Province, would be able to give us chapter and verse on these? Mr. Bardy of Lifford in Donegal ordered the photograph, but did Mr. Poole travel there, or did the Bardys take the long trip down to Waterford?
Photographer: A. H. Poole
Collection: Poole Photographic Collection, Waterford
Date: ca. Wednesday, 7 August 1901
NLI Ref: POOLEWP 1184a
You can also view this image, and many thousands of others, on the NLI’s catalogue at catalogue.nli.ie
Collaboration between myself and Hilda Westervelt (Bellissima Couture) for Live Auction at "Kenvention" 2015
William Chambers Millinery shoot for Indicate Magazine.
Model: Vivi
Make-up: Kaeleigh Wallace
Milliner: William Chambers
Issue 6
Prints for sale
Either Flicr mail me or e-mail me at Indykitty1@hotmail.com
I think romance must be in the air, I sculpted this pair from paper clay and perched them upon a fancy paper mache box. The arch is made from painted wire and embellished with lots of sweet little vintage millinery forget me nots. This would make a sweet little cake topper for a sweet couple!
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however, we are south of the Thames in the middle-class London suburb of Putney in the front room of a red brick Edwardian villa in Hazelwood Road, where Gerald has brought Lettice to visit his friend, Harriet Milford. The orphaned daughter of a solicitor with little formal education, Harriet has taken in lodgers to earn a living, but more importantly for Lettice, has taken up millinery semi-professionally to give her some pin money*. As Lettice’s mother, Lady Sadie, has forbidden Lettice to wear a shop bought hat to Leslie, Lettice’s brother’s, wedding in November and Lettice has quarrelled with her own milliner, Madame Gwendolyn, Gerald thought that Harriet might benefit as much from Lettice’s patronage as Lettice will by purchasing one of Harriet’s hats to resolve her fashion conundrum.
Lettice glances around the front parlour of the Putney villa, which doubles as Harriet’s sewing room and show room for her hats, with the critical eye of an interior designer, all the while listening to the notes of the oboe being played upstairs. The room’s middle-class chintzy décor immediately appals her as she takes in the floral covers of the flouncy Edwardian sofa on which she perches gingerly, and its matching roomy armchair by the fire, a hand embroidered pouffe and the busy Edwardian floral wallpaper. A bookcase stands in the corner, full of mystery novels covered in dust which Lettice suspects might have belonged to Harriet’s father, the deceased Mr. Milford. The bookcase’s top and the fireplace mantle are cluttered with family portraits taken in the possibly happier days of the idyllic summers before the Great War. The walls are hung with a mixture of cheap botanical prints and quaint English country scenes, all in gaudy gilded plaster frames. “How ghastly,” Lettice utters quietly with a sigh.
“I know: you hate the floral chintz,” Gerald says in reply to Lettice’s laconic observation. “You don’t need to tell me. The look of distaste on your face says it all. But you aren’t here to redecorate Lettuce Leaf, so be a darling and remember to mind your manners. You are a viscount’s daughter, after all, and Hattie is just a solicitor’s daughter. However, in spite of her low birth in comparison to your own, she is a good person, and she is my friend. Show some of your good breeding and be gracious.”
Lettice shoots Gerald an annoyed look at his use of her abhorred nickname yet again. “I’m beginning to question your choice of new friends – not that I even knew she existed prior to today.”
“Oh, there is a lot about me you don’t know, Lettice darling.” Gerald says with an air of mystery.
She glances around her again. “It’s awfully untidy in here.” she remarks not unjustly as she takes in the sight of a concertina sewing box on casters which stands cascaded open next to the armchair, threads, embroidery silks, buttons and ribbons pouring from its compartments like entrails. Hats in different stages of being made up and decorated lie about on the arm of the chair and the settee or on the floor in a haphazard way. The brightly patterned rug is littered with spools of cotton, scissors, ribbon, artificial flowers and dogeared copies of Weldon’s** magazines.
“Yes, well, Hattie hasn’t learnt the finer points of presentation yet,” Gerald admits. “But I’m working on that. However, suspend your judgement until you see what she can create for you.” Pointing to the three hats Lettice inspected a few minutes before sitting atop what must have formerly been a tea table, he adds, “You’ve already seen that her work really is every bit as good as Madame Gwendolyn’s.”
“Well, we shall see.” Lettice pronounces, withholding her judgement on Harriet’s work.
Just at that moment, Harriet’s scurrying footsteps across the tiled vestibule floor outside the door announce her arrival and she hurries through the door bearing a tray loaded with tea making implements and a plate of biscuits. “Be a lamb and bring over father’s chess table, will you Gerry darling.” she instructs Gerald.
Obediently Gerald gets up from his seat on the floral sofa next to Lettice, and with the familiarity of a regular houseguest, picks up a tilt table nestled on the far side of the fireplace. Tilting its surface into an upright position, Lettice momentarily sees the chess board set in marquetry on its surface before it is quickly obscured by an old fashioned Edwardian gilt banded tea set and the plate of biscuits as Gerald takes everything off Harriet’s tray.
“Thanks ever so!” Harriet sighs with relief before depositing the tray on the floor by the door, walking back across the room and around the table and then collapsing into the armchair with another deeper sigh.
“As an interior designer, Lettice has just been commenting on your décor, Hattie darling,” Gerald says to their hostess as he resumes his own seat.
“Gerald!” gasps Lettice, her face flushing at her friend’s frank admission.
“Oh I’m sorry it’s so untidy, Miss Chetwynd.” Harriet apologises as she snatches a rather tattered copy of Weldon’s* off the arm of her chair, shoving in behind her floral cushion, and tries to bundle her sewing bits back into the tray of her sewing box on casters. “Gerry has told me I need to improve the presentation of my premises, but having no domestic staff to speak of other than me, and trying to run a boarding house at the same time as make hats means I just don’t seem to have the time to tidy up in here.”
“Nor do I, Hattie darling,” Gerald scolds. “But that’s no excuse.”
Harriet blushes at her friend’s gentle rebuke.
“Shall I be mother then***?” Lettice asks. When Harriet nods in agreement, Lettice perches herself on the edge of the chintz sofa and sets out the tea things. “So,” she asks, pouring hot brackish tea into the first china cup. “You run a lodging house too?”
“Yes, for theatrical artistes.” Harriet explains proudly with a smile. “That’s Cyril playing his oboe upstairs,” She rolls her eyes up to the white plaster ceiling decorated with floral boiseries. “Although he is a professional actor as well as a musician in the West End.”
“Indeed,” muses Lettice.
“Although I do wish he’d play something other than Schumann or Mozart when we have guests.” mutters Harriet.
“Oh why, Miss Milford?” Lettice asks.
“Well, it’s not exactly the jolliest of music, is it?” Getting up again, Harriet walks over to the open doorway leading to the vestibule. Standing astride the threshold she calls up the stairs, “Do you think you could play something a bit jollier on the oboe, Cyril? We have guests. Gerry’s brought a friend. How about a nice bit of jazz?”
The music stops abruptly followed by a rather feminine sounding man’s fey voice opining from upstairs, “How can you, Hattie? I’m an artiste!” The last word is uttered dripping with melodrama. “Jazz music does not make one money.”
“Really? Then explain to me how the Savoy Havana Band**** make a living, Cyril? Please? Do it for Gerry, if not for me!”
“Oh, alright,” the fey voice bemoans. “But only because Gerry brought a chum.” The music recommences, only this time the opening bars to ‘The Sheik of Araby’***** fill the air.
“Hattie had a rather awkward situation with a retired colonel when she first started letting rooms.” Gerald says in a lowered tone as Harriet smiles at the change in music.
“Yes, the old chap couldn’t keep his hands to himself.” Harriet replies with a curt nod as she walks across the room and takes her place again. “Dirty old lecher was old enough to be my grandfather!”
“How awful, Miss Milford!” Lettice exclaims.
“I don’t find I have the same problem with men who are theatrical types, especially those from the chorus, those who paint the sets or work in the wardrobe department,” She smiles at Gerald, who smiles back. “If you understand my meaning, Miss Chetwynd” Harriet says with a wink, returning her attention to Lettice “I feel much safer around the likes of Cyril and his chums.”
“Indeed yes.” agrees Lettice, glancing between Gerald and Harriet, the pang of jealousy curdling her stomach as it did when she first saw Gerald and Harriet embrace in the way she thought only she and Gerald did.
“My father sent me to domestic science classes, so I’m quite a dab hand at plain cooking and keeping house when I get the chance, so my lodgers are happy.”
“Do try one of Harriet’s jam fancies, Lettice,” Gerald encourages, picking up one for himself from the blue and gilt banded sandwich plate, placing it on the edge of his saucer as he picks up his cup of tea. “They really are rather good.”
Lettice picks one up and takes a small bite, the biscuit dough melting in her mouth. “Very good, Miss Milford.” she enthuses. “Every bit as delicious as my maid’s baking.”
“Thank you, Miss Chetwynd.” Harriet replies with a proud smirk. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Considering that Lettice doesn’t know how to make a cup of tea, never mind bake a biscuit, I would.” Gerald remarks cheekily.
Ignoring his remark, Lettice asks, “So how is it that you came to make hats, Miss Milford? I was just admiring those hats on the table over there before you came in. They are beautifully made.”
Turning her head, Harriet gazes pleasingly at the three hats sitting on the table next to her sewing machine in the bay window. “Thank you, Miss Chetwynd. Well, my mother before she passed on taught me how to sew and embroider. She embroidered that.” Harriet indicates to the pouffe at Lettice’s feet with its green flounces and a rose stitched on its top. “I always enjoyed sewing and working with fabrics, so I thought I’d try my hand at making hats.”
“Harriet had to turn over her sewing room to Cyril when he came to board with her.” Gerald adds.
“How do you know where Cyril sleeps?” Lettice asks with mild shock, her face flushing with colour when Gerald clears his throat awkwardly and blushes bright red as a silent form of reply. “Oh… oh, I see.”
“The light is much better in here anyway,” Harriet quickly pipes up brightly in a chivalrous effort to prevent her friend any further embarrassment, a gesture that does not go unnoticed by both Gerald and Lettice who both admire her action. “The bay windows downstairs are much bigger than the oriel windows up under the roof. Besides it’s much easier for customers to step in here than trudge up three flights of stairs to the attic.”
“And your little enterprise has taken off, I believe Miss Milford.”
“I’ve been moderately successful, Miss Chetwynd.”
“You’ve been very successful, Hattie darling.” Gerald corrects her encouragingly.
“And what are you going to call your cottage industry, Miss Milford?” Lettice asks. “Not Hattie’s Hats, I hope.”
“Oh how drole you are, Miss Chetwynd,” laughs Harriet. “No. Well, I hadn’t actually thought what I should call my ‘little enterprise’, as you call it, Miss Chetwynd. Maybe you and Gerry can help me find the perfect name.” Clearing her throat, she carries on. “Which brings me to the reason why you are here. I believe that you are in need of a new hat, Miss Chetwynd.”
“So, Gerald has told you about me then, Miss Milford?”
“Well, yes, Gerry did tell me that you are both to attend your brother’s wedding at the end of November – a country wedding in Wiltshire I’ve been told – and he did tell me that you have fallen out with your former milliner, Madame Gwendolyn of Oxford Street. He also gave me some background to your family,” She leans forward in her seat, her demeanour suddenly going from a relaxed stance to a more professional and formal one. “However, I am also perfectly capable of doing my own research, Miss Chetwynd. I’ve often seen your picture in the society pages in the company of Gerry, Minnie and Charles Palmerston, Celia Bamford, Willie Chelmsford, Priscilla Kitson-Fahey and more recently, American department store heir Georgie Carter: your ‘Embassy Club Coterie’ I believe you call it. You are also acquainted with Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon****** who has been linked romantically with the Duke of York in the last year. I also saw you in Vogue twice this year: once at the wedding of Dickie and Margot Channon in January - Margot Channon née de Virre your best friend – and then again at the marriage of the Princess Royal******* in February.”
“My, you are well informed, Miss Milford!” remarks Lettice, unable to disguise how impressed she is at Harriet’s research.
“I also noticed, without Gerry needing to tell me,” Harriet glances momentarily at Gerald slyly scoffing another of her jam fancies before returning her attention quickly to Lettice. “That the rather fetching straw hat with silk and feather trim you wore to the Royal Wedding was a model bought from Selfridges.”
“Gerald!” Lettice exclaims, slapping him hard on the knee.
Sitting up and spluttering out bits of biscuit onto the floor in front of him he manages to utter between coughs, “I… I didn’t… tell… her.”
“It’s true,“ Harried elucidates. “Gerry didn’t need to. I make it my business to study fashion, and anyone with a keen eye who reads Selfridges advertisements would know that it is a French mode Mr. Selfridge paid to import from Paris. Pretty yes, but not unique. No doubt, after your falling out with Madame Gwendolyn you found yourself in a tight spot Miss Chetwynd, needing a new hat, but not one from her. Being one of hundreds of guests at the wedding, you could get away with a shop bought hat. As a significant event on the Wiltshire social calendar, I imagine that you need something a little more discerning to wear to your brother’s wedding, considering that there will be far fewer guests in attendance than there were at Westminster Abbey, and therefore more attention paid to you.”
“Please forgive me, Miss Milford,” Lettice smiles across at Harriet, suddenly sitting up straight and looking her hostess directly in the eye. “I must confess that I underestimated you. When Gerald brought me here, and when I first met you outside, I didn’t detect an ounce of your shrewdness.”
“My father may not have valued my further education, but I did learn a few tricks and traits from him before he died.”
“Bravo, Miss Milford.” Lettice’s eyes glisten with interest. “You have my full and undivided attention. What are you proposing?”
“I believe you are wearing lemon yellow to the wedding, with russet accents. Is that right, Gerry darling?” Still recovering his breath after choking on biscuit crumbs he can only nod in reply before coughing again. “Then considering the shape of your face and the colour and style of your hair, I would suggest a yellow dyed straw, small brimmed picture hat with lemon yellow muslin and perhaps some russet flowers or autumnal shaded imitation fruit.”
“Hmmm….” Lettice ponders Harriet’s suggestions with a downwards gaze, envisaging what the hat might look like, before looking up again. “Very well Miss Milford. Consider yourself engaged to make my hat for Leslie’s wedding.”
“Oh hoorah!” exclaims Harriet, clapping her hands in delight. “We can settle terms later.”
Just as Lettice is about to agree, a tall, slender and handsome young man with pale patrician skin and a mop of blonde curls walks through the parlour door, dressed in a set of tails with a square instrument box in his right hand. Unnoticed by the party sitting in the parlour, the oboe music had ceased a short while ago, and the player now stood before them.
“Well, I’m off up the West End, Hattie.” Cyril’s voice, still containing that fey quality, was instantly recognisable. Placing a kiss on Harriet’s proffered right cheek, Cyril turns and snatches up a biscuit off the tray on the table before leaning over to Gerald and placing a kiss squarely on his lips, causing Gerald and Lettice to both blush at the brazen expression of affection bestowed upon Gerald so openly by the young men. As if nothing could be more natural, the young musician spins on his heel and elegantly walks to the door. Pausing on the threshold he turns back to the trio and says dramatically, “Don’t wait up.” Then he looks intently at blushing Gerald and adds, “I’ll see you after the show, Gerry darling. Ta-ta!” And he disappears from view, his exit from the villa being heralded moments later by the opening and then slamming of the front door.
The room is suddenly plunged into quiet, broken only by the ticking of the floral china clock on the mantle and the chirp of birdsong in the bushes outside the parlour window, the silence even more evident by the lack of Cyril’s playing drifting from upstairs.
“Well, you were right, Gerald,” Lettice says breathily after a few moments.
“About Harriet?” he asks gingerly.
“Well yes,” she agrees. “But also, about the fact that there is so much about you I don’t know.” She smiles cheekily, breaking the nervous feeling in the room. “So, is Cyril the reason you have come to know Miss Milford, or did you come to know Cyril through Miss Milford?”
*Originating in Seventeenth Century England, the term pin money first meant “an allowance of money given by a husband to his wife for her personal expenditures. Married women, who typically lacked other sources of spending money, tended to view an allowance as something quite desirable. By the Twentieth Century, the term had come to mean a small sum of money, whether an allowance or earned, for spending on inessentials, separate and in addition to the housekeeping money a wife might have to spend.
**Created by British industrial chemist and journalist Walter Weldon Weldon’s Ladies’ Journal was the first ‘home weeklies’ magazine which supplied dressmaking patterns. Weldon’s Ladies’ Journal was first published in 1875 and continued until 1954 when it ceased publication.
***The meaning of the very British term “shall I be mother” is “shall I pour the tea?”
****The Savoy Havana Band was a British dance band of the 1920s. It was resident at the Savoy Hotel, London, between 1921 and 1927. Players in the band included future American crooner Rudy Vallée and British pianist and composer Billy Mayerl.
*****“The Sheik of Araby” is a song that was written in 1921 by Harry B. Smith and Francis Wheeler, with music by Ted Snyder. It was composed in response to the popularity of the Rudolph Valentino feature film The Sheik. "The Sheik of Araby" was a Tin Pan Alley hit, and was also adopted by early jazz bands, especially in New Orleans, making it a jazz standard.
******Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon as she was known in 1922 went on to become Queen of the United Kingdom and the Dominions from 1936 to 1952 as the wife of King George VI. Whilst still Duke of York, Prince Albert initially proposed to Elizabeth in 1921, but she turned him down, being "afraid never, never again to be free to think, speak and act as I feel I really ought to" She was one of Princess Mary’s eight bridesmaids at her 1922 wedding.
*******Mary, Princess Royal and Countess of Harewood (1897 – 1965), was the only daughter of King George V and Queen Mary. She was the sister of Kings Edward VIII and George VI, and aunt of Queen Elizabeth II. She married Viscount Lascelles on the 28th of February 1922 in a ceremony held at Westminster Abbey. The bride was only 24 years old, whilst the groom was 39. There is much conjecture that the marriage was an unhappy one, but their children dispute this and say it was a very happy marriage based upon mutual respect. The wedding was filmed by Pathé News and was the first royal wedding to be featured in fashion magazines, including Vogue.
This rather cluttered and chaotic scene of a drawing room cum workroom may look real to you, but believe it or not, it is made up entirely with pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection, including pieces from my childhood.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
1:12 size miniature hats made to such exacting standards of quality and realism such as these are often far more expensive than real hats are. When you think that it would sit comfortably on the tip of your index finger, yet it could cost in excess of $150.00 or £100.00, it is an extravagance. American artists seem to have the monopoly on this skill and some of the hats that I have seen or acquired over the years are remarkable. The natural yellow straw hat with white ribbon trim on the arm of the settee was made by an unknown artisan in the United Kingdom and was sold through Doreen Jeffrey’s Small Wonders miniatures shop. The red velvet hat covered with roses on the arm of the chair was made by an unknown British artisan. The two hats on the carpet were both acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House in the United Kingdom.
The copies of Weldon’s Dressmaker and the Lady’s World Fancy Work Book scattered about the room are 1:12 size miniatures made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. The books on the bookshelf in the background are also made by Ken Blythe. Most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors. In some cases, you can even read the words, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection, but so little of his real artistry is seen because the books that he specialised in making are usually closed, sitting on shelves or closed on desks and table surfaces. In this case, the magazines are non-opening, however what might amaze you is that all Ken Blythe’s books and magazines are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make this a miniature artisan piece. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago, as well as through his estate via his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.
The concertina sewing box on casters which you can see spilling forth its contents is an artisan miniature made by an unknown artist in England. It comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in the in the United Kingdom. All the box’s contents including spools of ribbons, threads scissors and buttons on cards came with the work box. The box can completely expand or contract, just like its life-sized equivalent.
The hand embroidered and home made cream and green pouffe, the black japanned fire screen, the black metal fire tools and the plant in the corner all also come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop.
Harriet’s family photos seen cluttering the mantlepiece and the bookshelf in the background are all real photos, produced to high standards in 1:12 size on photographic paper by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The frames are almost all from Melody Jane’s Dollhouse Suppliers in the United Kingdom and are made of metal with glass in each.
The porcelain clock on the mantlepiece is made by M.W. Reutter Porzellanfabrik in Germany, who specialise in making high quality porcelain miniatures. The pot of yellow and blue petunias on the mantlepiece has been hand made and painted by 1:12 miniature ceramicist Ann Dalton. The castle shaped cottage orneé (pastille burner) on the bookshelf has been hand made, painted and gilded by Welsh miniature ceramist Rachel Williams who has her own studio, V&R Miniatures, in Powys. The bowl decorated with fruit on the bookshelf was hand decorated by British artisan Rachael Maundy.
The spools of threads, the tape measure, the silver sewing scissors in the shape of a stork and the box of embroidery threads I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House in the United Kingdom.
The tilt chess table in the middle of the room I bought from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom. The Edwardian tea set and cake plate on its surface come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House in the United Kingdom, whilst the biscuits on the plate come from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering.
The sewing basket that you can see just behind the straw hat sitting on the arm of the sofa I bought from a high street shop that specialised in dolls and doll house furnishings. It is an artisan miniature and contains pieces of embroidery and embroidery threads.
The floral chintz settee and chair and the Art Nouveau china cabinet are made by J.B.M. miniatures who specialise in well made pieces of miniature furniture made to exacting standards.
The sewing machine to the left of the photo, I bought from Melody Jane’s Doll House Suppliers in the United Kingdom. It is made with extreme attention to detail, complete with a painted black metal body, authentic sewing mechanisms and a worksurface “inlaid” with mother-of-pearl.
The Chinese carpet beneath the furniture is hand made by Mackay and Gerrish in Sydney, Australia.
The Edwardian mantlepiece is made of moulded plaster and was acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House in the United Kingdom.
The bookshelf in the background comes from Babette’s Miniatures, who have been making miniature dolls’ furnishings since the late eighteenth century.
The paintings and prints on the walls all come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House in the United Kingdom.
Collaboration between myself and Hilda Westervelt (Bellissima Couture) for Live Auction at "Kenvention" 2015
William Chambers Millinery shoot for Indicate Magazine.
Model: Vivi
Make-up: Kaeleigh Wallace
Milliner: William Chambers
indicatemagazine.co.uk/
Issue 6
Prints for sale
Either Flicr mail me or e-mail me at Indykitty1@hotmail.com
( Image owned by the account holder)“ Millinery! (That’s the word I was looking for!) The chance to show a delectable creation would come when one was selected to complement a formal outfit. Weddings, christenings, jubilees, Ladies’ Days, luncheon talks, business socials – that kind of occasion always favored a suitable piece of millinery.
And what ‘confections’ they could be!! A lightly framed basket of petals, leaves, blooms in profusion- looking nice against a plainer color coat or dress, does it not? With dainty gossamer gloves and slender high heels- very nice, if I may say so! Wish I could remember more…! “
Credits: Quality Modes (‘Superior Styles for the Discerning’)
ANNETTE SALON DE BEAUTÉ
CJL PHOTOGRAPHY (COMMERCIAL & PRIVATE)
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however we have headed slightly north of Cavendish Mews to London’s busy shopping precinct along Oxford Street, where ladies flock to window shop, browse department stores and shops and to take tea with their friends. With the Christmas rush of 1921 behind them, the large plate glass windows have been stripped of their tinsel garlands and metallic cardboard stars, and displays are turning to the new fashions and must have possessions of 1922. Oxford Street is still busy with shoppers as Lettice walks up it dressed in a smart navy blue coat of velvet with a lustrous mink fur trim and matching hat, and the road congested with London’s signature red buses, taxis and private traffic. Yet neither the road nor the footpath are as crowded as they were when she found Edith, her maid’s, Christmas gift in Boots the Chemist, and for that she is grateful. Her louis heels click along the concrete footpath as she takes purposeful and measured footsteps towards her destination, the salon of her milliner Madame Gwendolyn which is situated above all the hubbub of shoppers and London office workers on the first floor of a tall and ornate Victorian building.
Lettice breathes a sigh of relief as she walks through the wood and plate glass door of the salon, simply marked with the name Gwendolyn in elegant gilt copperplate lettering, leaving behind the chug of belching double deckers, the toot of horns, the rumble of motorcar engines and the droning buzz of female chatter. The faint fragrance of a mixture of expensive scents from Madame Gewndolyn’s other clientele envelops her, dismissing the soot and fumes of the world outside as the quiet sinks in. Lettice always feels calmer in Madame’s salon, tastefully decked out in an Edwardian version of Regency with finely striped papers and upholstery.
“Good afternoon Miss Chetwynd,” the female receptionist greets Lettice politely in well enunciated tones, rising from her desk, showing off her smart outfit of a crisp white shirtwaister* with goffered lace detailing and a navy skirt. “Your timing, as ever, is perfect.” She smiles as she walks over and without asking, takes the coat from Lettice’s shirking shoulders.
“Thank you Roslyn,” Lettice acknowledges her assistance. As she goes to take Lettice’s white lace parasol, Lettice stops the young receptionist. “No thank you. I need this for my consultation.”
If taken aback by Lettice’s unusual refusal to relinquish her parasol, Roslyn doesn’t show it as she simply smiles politely and says, “Madame is expecting you. Please do come through.”
The two women walk across the polished floor of the foyer covered in expensive rugs that their feet sink into, until they stop before an inner set of double doors. Roslyn’s polite rap is greeted by a commanding “come” from the other side.
“Miss Chetwynd, Madame,” Roslyn announces as she opens the door inwards, leading Lettice into a salon, similarly furbished as the foyer which is filled with an array of beautiful hats elegantly on display.
“Ah, Miss Chetwynd,” Madame Gwendolyn says in the same clearly enunciated syllables as her receptionist, with a broad smile on her lips. “How do you do.”
“How do you do, Madame.” she replies as Roslyn retreats the way she came, closing the doors silently behind her.
Madame Gwendolyn smile broadens as she notices Lettice’s blue velvet toque with the mink trim which she made to match the coat now hanging in the wardrobe behind Roslyn’s desk in the foyer. Then it fades as her eye falls upon Lettice’s parasol in her client’s left hand. “Oh Miss Chetwynd, I’m so sorry Roslyn didn’t,” and she reaches out to take it from her hand.
“Oh no! No Madame,” Lettice assures the middle-aged milliner. “Roslyn went to take it from me, but I said no. We will need it for our appointment you see.”
“Oh,” Madame Gwendolyn’s expertly plucked and shaped brow arches ever so slightly. “Very well. Won’t you please take a seat, Miss Chetwynd.” She indicates to two Edwardian Arts and Crafts chairs carefully reupholstered in cream Regency stripe fabric to match the wallpaper hanging in the salon.
Lettice selects the one to her right and hangs the parasol over its arm before gracefully lowering herself into the seat and placing her snakeskin handbag at her side. As she does so, Roslyn slips back into the room bearing a tray on which sits tea making implements for one, which she carefully places on the small table next to a few recent fashion magazines, easily in Lettice’s range.
Once Roslyn obsequiously retreats again, Madame Gwendolyn says, “Now, I believe you may have come about a new hat for The Princess Royal’s wedding*. Is that so, Miss Chetwynd?”
“You are well informed, Madame.” Lettice replies, glancing down at her knee as she speaks.
Madame Gwendolyn smiles again, taking up a leatherbound notebook. “How delightful for you to be in attendance.”
“Well, we are well acquainted, Madame,” Lettice answers dismissively.
“Of course! Of course.” the older woman replies, her back stiffening as she raises her pale and elegant hands in defence. “Now, might I enquire as to who will be making your frock for the occasion?”
“Yes. Mr. Gerald Bruton of Grosvenor Street.”
“Ah. Excellent! Excellent.” Madame replies like a toady as she jots Gerald’s name in her book. “And the fabrics, Miss Chetwynd?”
“Oyster satin with pearl buttons and a guipure lace** Peter Pan collar***.”
“Excellent! Excellent!” Madame Gwendolyn repeats again, noting the details down. “White gloves, or grey?”
“Grey.”
The woman closes her notebook firmly, leaving it in her lap. “Well, I’m quite sure we can make something most suitable for the royal occasion to match your ensemble.”
The milliner rises and puts her notebook aside. Whilst she looks about her salon for possibilities, Lettice pours herself tea from the delicate hydrangea patterned pot on the table.
“Now, I could easily create something similar to this, in a soft grey, Miss Chetwynd.” Madame Gwendolyn returns with a beautiful picture hat of pale pink covered in a carefully crafted whorl of ostrich feathers.
“Hhhmmm…” Lettice considers.
“Or, this could easily be adapted to match your outfit, Miss Chetwynd,” she indicates to a more cloche shaped hat of white and black dyed straw with black ribboning. “By replacing the ribbon with a grey one. I also have some delightful pearl appliques that would add a beautiful touch of royal elegance to it.”
“Perhaps,” Lettice replies noncommittally with her head slightly cocked.
As she watches Madame Gwendolyn scurry across the salon and fetch a peach coloured wide brimmed hat with a band of silk flowers about the brim with an aigrette of cream lace, her thoughts drift back to the day the previous June when she and her dear Embassy Club coterie friend Margot were walking down Oxford Street, not too far from where she sits now. They had been discussing the Islington Studios**** moving picture starlet Wanetta Ward, whom Lettice had agreed to take on as a new customer, as well as Margot’s wedding plans. Ascot Week***** was fast approaching and Selfridges had a window display featuring four rather stylish hats, every bit as comparable in quality to those being shown to her by the toadying milliner before her at a fraction of the cost. Margot had laughed at Lettice when she had suggested that perhaps she should have worn a Selfridges hat to Royal Ascot, rather than the creation Madame Gwendolyn made her. Yet her hat from Madame Gwendolyn at twelve guineas was far from a roaring success in the fashion stakes. In fact, she had heard a fashion correspondent from the Tattler whispering a little too loudly that it might even have been a little old fashioned: a touch pre-war.
“Miss Chetwynd? Miss Chetwynd?” Madame Gwendolyn’s somewhat urgent calls press into her consciousness, breaking Lettice’s train of thought.
Lettice looks up into the face of the milliner with her upswept hairdo a mixture of pre-war Edwardian style mixed with modern Marcelling******. The woman is holding up a cream straw cloche decorated with pink silk flowers and an aigrette of ostrich plumes curled in on themselves.
“I think this one is most becoming. Don’t you think so, Miss Chetwynd? It would frame your face and hair so well. And, for you, because it is only the reworking of the decoration,” the older woman adds with a sly smile. “A bargain if I may say so, at only nine guineas.” She smiles in an oily way as she presses the hat closer to Lettice. “What do you think, Miss Chetwynd?”
Lettice looks blankly at Madame Gwendolyn for a moment before replying. “What I think, Madame, is I should like to give your suggestions some consideration.”
The milliner’s face drops, as do her arms as she lowers the hat until it hangs loosely in front of her knees in her defeated hands. “I… I don’t understand, Miss Chetwynd.” she manages to say in startled disbelief.
“Oh,” Lettice replies. “Haven’t I made myself clear, Madame? I’m not entirely convinced about any of the hats you have shown me. I don’t know if any of them will match my costume and parasol. I think they all look a little…”
“A little?” the older woman prompts.
“A little old fashioned. A little pre-war was how your hat for me for Royal Ascot last year was described. I want to look my very best. After all, this is a royal wedding.” She takes a final sip of her tea and then stands, picking up her purse and parasol. “So, I should like to consider my choices before deciding whether to accept one or not.”
As Lettice starts to walk across the salon floor, Madame Gwendolyn stutters, “Per… perhaps Miss Chetwynd… Perhaps you’d care to suggest your own ideas. I’m very open to a client’s ide…”
Lettice stops and turns abruptly to the milliner, cutting her sentence off. “Madame,” she says, a definite haughtiness growing in her gait, causing her shoulders to edge back almost imperceptibly and for her neck to arch. “If I had wanted to design my own hat, I would have made it myself, rather than come to you and pay you handsomely for it.”
“Oh, of course not Miss Chetwynd. How very careless of me to even suggest…. Such… such a gaffe! Please forgive me.”
“Really Madame, there is no need to apologise like some spineless, obsequious servant. I’d simply like time to consider what you’ve shown me, versus say, what Harry Selfridge has to offer.”
“Mr. Selfridge?” Madame Gwendolyn ponders, her eyes widening in surprise.
“Yes. He has a wonderful array of hats, many Paris models in the latest styles, in his millinery department, perhaps more suited to the more modern woman of today than the,” Lettice glances back at the hats on display in the salon. “The society matron. You really should take a look, Madame. You might see where the future of hats sits.”
Lettice pulls open the doors of the salon and walks purposefully out into the foyer, where Roslyn is busily scanning a copy of Elite Styles, cutting out images of hats with a pair of scissors behind her desk. She quickly gets up when she sees Lettice and her employer come out.
“Leaving so soon, Miss Chetwynd?” she asks, and without having to wait for an answer, turns to the white painted built in wardrobe behind her, opens it and withdraws Lettice’s coat.
As Lettice steps back into Oxford Street and is enveloped by its discordant cacophony of noise and potpourri of smells, she sighs and walks back the way she came with the measured steps of a viscount’s daughter. As she reaches the full length plate glass windows of Selfridge’s department store, she pauses when she sees two young women around her age, both obviously typists, secretaries or some other kind of office workers, scuttle up to the windows. Dressed in smart black coats and matching small brimmed straw hats with Marcelled hair in fashionable bobs, they look the epitome of the new and independent woman. They laugh lightly and point excitedly at things they see displayed in the department store window. Then, they agree and both scurry away and through the revolving doors of Selfridges.
“Why should I have my hats made at Madame Gwendolyn’s, just because Mamma does?” she asks no-one in particular, her quiet utterance smothered and swept away into the noisy hubbub around her.
She walks to the window, only to discover that it is full of hats, advertised as newly in from Paris.
“Oh, why not, then?” Lettice says, straightening her shoulders with conviction.
She follows the two office girls and steps through the revolving doors of Selfridges department store.
Contrary to popular belief, fashion at the beginning of the Roaring 20s did not feature the iconic cloche hat as a commonly worn head covering. Although invented by French milliner Caroline Reboux in 1908, the cloche hat did not start to gain popularity until 1922, so in early 1922 when this story is set, picture hats, a hangover from the pre-war years, were still de rigueur in fashionable society. Although nowhere near as wide, heavy, voluminous or as ornate as the hats worn by women between the turn of the Twentieth Century and the Great War, the picture hats of the 1920s were still wide brimmed, although they were generally made of straw or some lightweight fabric and were decorated with a more restrained touch. For somewhere as socially important as Princess Mary’s 1922 wedding, a matching hat, parasol, handbag or reticule and gloves to go with a lady’s chosen frock were essential.
*Mary, Princess Royal and Countess of Harewood (1897 – 1965), was the only daughter of King George V and Queen Mary. She was the sister of Kings Edward VIII and George VI, and aunt of Queen Elizabeth II. She married Viscount Lascelles on the 28th of February 1922 in a ceremony held at Westminster Abbey. The bride was only 24 years old, whilst the groom was 39. There is much conjecture that the marriage was an unhappy one, but their children dispute this and say it was a very happy marriage based upon mutual respect. The wedding was filmed by Pathé News and was the first royal wedding to be featured in fashion magazines, including Vogue.
**Guipure lace is a delicate fabric made by twisting and braiding the threads to craft incredible designs that wows the eye. Guipure lace fabrics distinguish themselves from other types of lace by connecting the designs using bars or subtle plaits instead of setting them on a net.
***A Peter Pan collar is a style of clothing collar, flat in design with rounded corners. It is named after the collar of Maude Adams's costume in her 1905 role as Peter Pan, although similar styles had been worn before this date. Peter Pan collars were particularly fashionable during the 1920s and 1930s.
****Islington Studios, often known as Gainsborough Studios, were a British film studio located on the south bank of the Regent's Canal, in Poole Street, Hoxton in Shoreditch, London which began operation in 1919. By 1920 they had a two stage studio. It is here that Alfred Hitchcock made his entrée into films.
*****Royal Ascot Week is the major social calendar event held in June every year at Ascot Racecourse in Berkshire. It was founded in 1711 by Queen Anne and is attended every year by the reigning British monarch and members of the Royal Family. The event is grand and showy, with men in grey morning dress and silk toppers and ladies in their best summer frocks and most elaborate hats.
******Marcelling is a hair styling technique in which hot curling tongs are used to induce a curl into the hair. Its appearance was similar to that of a finger wave but it is created using a different method. Marcelled hair was a popular style for women's hair in the 1920s, often in conjunction with a bob cut. For those women who had longer hair, it was common to tie the hair at the nape of the neck and pin it above the ear with a stylish hair pin or flower. One famous wearer was American entertainer, Josephine Baker.
This enclave of luxurious millinary may appear real to you, however it is fashioned entirely of 1:12 miniatures from my collection. Some of the items in this tableau are amongst the very first pieces I ever received as a young child.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The cream straw hat second from the left with pink roses has single stands of ostrich feathers adorning it that have been hand curled. The yellow straw hat on the far right of the photo is decorated with ornamental flowers and organza. The maker for these is unknown, but they are part of a larger collection I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel. The peach coloured hat with the flowers around the brim and the net aigrette second from the right, and the pink feather covered hat on the far left of the picture came from a seller on E-Bay. The black straw hat with the yellow trim and rose reflected in the mirror and the white straw hait with the black trim in the foreground were made by Mrs. Denton of Muffin Lodge in the United Kingdom. 1:12 size miniature hats made to such exacting standards of quality and realism are often far more expensive than real hats are. When you think that it would sit comfortably on the tip of your index finger, yet it could cost in excess of $150.00 or £100.00, it is an extravagance. American artists seem to have the monopoly on this skill and some of the hats that I have seen or acquired over the years are remarkable.
The wooden hat blocks on which the hats are displayed also came from American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel.
The dressing table set, consisting of tray, mirror and two brushes were made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, but were hand painted with wonderful detail by British miniature artisan Victoria Fasken, sold through Kathleen Knight’s Dollhouse Shop in England.
Lettice’s snakeskin handbag with its gold clasp and chain comes from Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders Miniature Shop in the United Kingdom. Lettice’s umbrella is a 1:12 artisan piece made of white satin and lace with a tiny cream bow. It has a hooked metal handle.
The Elite Styles magazine from 1922 sitting on the table was made by hand by Petite Gite Miniatures in the United States.
The blue hydrangea tea set came from a miniatures stockist on E-Bay.
The two Edwardian fashion plates hanging on the wall come from Melody Jane’s Doll House Suppliers in England.
The vintage mirror with its hand carved wooden frame was acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dollhouse Shop in England.
The two chairs, the tea table and the stands upon which two of the hats are displayed are all made by the high-end miniature furniture manufacturer, Bespaq.
The Regency sideboard I have had since I was around six or seven, having been given it as either a birthday or Christmas gift.
The cream Georgian pattern carpet on the floor comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll House Shop in England. The Regency stripe wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, with the purpose that it be used in the “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.