All posts filed under: Textiles & Costume

Greek key shoes – swoon

As we all know, I’m really into Greek keys. My current Greek key obsession is these evening boots: *Swoon* I lurve them. Everything about them. The red heels. The invisible side lacing. The curlicues between the Greek key borders. The way the Greek keys turn on the toes. The stripe up the front. Happiness. There is a stripe up the back too. Happiness. It’s more of a platonic lurve from afar though. Like the way you drool over a hot celebrity, but actually don’t want to meet them in person and would just blush and freak out and disappear yourself if they showed up in person and approached you. I like the idea of the shoes, but really, I couldn’t handle them in person. It’s just too much shoe for me.

Flame

Published by The Dreamstress

Louis XIV’s favourite colour was flame, an orangish-red which worked well with his self designated title of ‘The Sun King’. Louis wore it frequently. The French court was all about gaining the kings favour, and a good way to become his favourite was to wear his favourite colour, thus it’s frequently seen in garments and trimmings in 17th and early 18th century portraits. Women wore it in ribbons and feathers: Or wrapped around their body in wraps: Men wore it as bows around their neck: Or as sashes tied around their torsos: Whole interiors were done in it, and family groups wore it as jackets and robes: If you didn’t like flame, but still wanted to kiss up to the king, inflicting it on your children in large quantities was always an option. They could wear it as historical fantasy dress: Or pseudo-classical short clothes: Or stiff, old fashioned dresses with flame rosettes: Even Louis’ neglected wife and his kids wore the colour: Yep. Mid 17th century France was aflame.

Doilie, doily, doyley, doiley, d’oyley or d’oilie?

Published by The Dreamstress

I came across a copy of the Girl’s Own Paper from 1912, and was very intrigued by the handwork section, and in particular, by the spellings in the handwork section. You see, the Girl’s Own Paper spells doily d’oilie. How peculiar! At first I thought it might just have been an old-fashioned term for doily, and I have never noticed it before. To make matters more confusing, the magazines ads spell it d’oyley So I thought a bit more, and realised that I was sure I had read 19th century articles about doilies, and d’oyleys, but never d’oilies. So I did a bit of research, and guess what? I can’t find a single mention of d’oilies or by that spelling in anything but the Girl’s Own Paper. New Zealand newspapers from the turn of the century spell it doily, d’oyley, doyley, and doilie, with the first spelling being vastly more common, and the last only appearing for a brief period at the turn of the century. But why all the variants? I think I have …