As I mentioned last week, on Friday I got gussied up and went out for a nice blend of culture and fun at the Guildhall Art Gallery's 1920s-themed night. This is what I cobbled together from my existing wardrobe, for a vaguely appropriate look.
Shoes: Jones Bootmaker
Sash: Bit of ribbon from a local haberdashers
Brooch (worn on sash): Pierre Bex from Ebay (as written about here)
Earrings: Gift from my mum
But really, the look would have been nothing without the hair...
I'm really pleased at how well this turned out! I think I ought to play with that style more often, especially until I get my fringe trimmed (which is becoming increasingly urgent if I don't want to be blinded, either temporarily by the curtain that is increasingly lowering, or permanently by being spiked with sharp hairs at the perfect length for painfully poking my eyes...). But this was actually dead simple for me, with my curly hair (God bless my curly hair). The front just required a bit of coaxing and setting with pins as it dried. One I removed the pins, the curls around my forehead stayed put without assistance and I just needed to pin the longer strands in place as a curl over my ear. Everything else went into a Gibson roll and, voila!
By the way, those rings are the ones that never leave my fingers,
except when I'm asleep. The Whitby Jet (on the right) was a 25th
birthday gift from my mum and the other used to be The Cat's.
And here's some shots outside the Guildhall just to prove that I did actually leave the house.
|I'm out of the house for something other than work! And it's so mild that I have my coat casually open!|
I would take outfit posts outside more often, finding interesting backdrops, but I never like having to remember to take photos when I'd rather be abandoning myself to fun. Also, there's that awkward thing of being pose-y when there's random strangers about... But, here, we found a relatively quiet spot on the opposite side of the courtyard from the Art Gallery.
|Twirling about in the Guildhall complex, with its intriguing mix of old and post-war |
Finally, we had a lovely night inside the gallery. We perused the Age of Elegance exhibition, which was rather nice but which I wasn't blown away by. There were some interesting and some pretty paintings in there but I felt that the theme didn't really come through that strongly, except in parts. Baring in mind that all the pictures were drawn from their own collection, however, you couldn't really expect it to be as comprehensive or coherent as if they'd pin-pointed and borrowed from other collections. So, it becomes more impressive when considered like that.
And, in fact, I'd like to go back to look at the rest of their collection when I'm not distracted by music, other entertainment and crowds. It was difficult to focus purely on art with so much else going on! There was a band in the main gallery with commendable stamina, playing classics and swing. There were dance classes downstairs but I actually skipped that in favour of getting to look around the paintings at a leisurely pace. But my highlight was potentially a chap called Mark Oostervan reading a P.G. Wodehouse short story, The Truth About George. He was great, the story was a brilliant choice, and I was giggling away at all the best moments.
So! The morals of this story are:
1) If you don't have authentic 1920s in your wardrobe, take the time to get the hairstyle right as that will work wonders in making your outfit more convincing.
2) Consider going to the Guildhall's Age of Elegance exhibition but don't break your neck in a rush to get there.
3) Take out a copy of P.G. Wodehouse's short stories from your local library and have a read.