Last night I wore:
- The Dress.
- Previously ankle length 70s dress. Made from 100% quality polyester, it came with a matching leatherette-backed belt.
- Platform clogs. Less painful than proper heels, but I did fall off them quite a bit.
- Wooden necklace from the Cats Protection League shop.
Today is a bumper post, owing to yesterday’s technical difficulties. I tell you, there’s nothing like your laptop telling you it needs a full system restore and you might have lost all your software to blow the cobwebs away. I haven’t lost anything but my music, which is a sort of relief, but my computer is much slower than it was. This will make blogging a lengthier process for the rest of the month, but I’ll keep at it. Daft machine.
Preparations for yesterday began weeks ago; my dress came from a charity shop in Edinburgh. We were trawling through, trying to find jeans for A that I could customise. He’s got legs from here to ya-ya which makes trouser buying tricky. I wasn’t looking for a dress, knowing that it would be May and I’d be in my lovely grey number. We walked into this shop, and there it was, looking like a discarded sofa cover. I tried it on and that was it, I was a gonner. Yes, it was a little on the roomy size, yes, it made for someone a touch taller and yes, the 100% polyester fabric made my skin itch within moments of putting it on, but I saw the potential beneath.
I’m not bad with a sewing machine, but taking things in isn’t my strength. Not wanting to muck up my one-of-a-kind sofa cover, I took it to The Alterations Shop on Walmgate and he did such a good job that I can’t actually tell where it’s been altered. If I’d done it, you would definitely have been able to tell. I was quite happy to hack 20 inches off the bottom, until I realised that hemming it on the sewing machine would probably not be wise due to the fabric so would require hand-stitching. That’s an hour of my life I’ll never get back.
Other people were happy to let me loose on their costumes with a sewing machine. I created a sideline in making jeans into flares, quite successfully I might add. My father, bastion of good taste that he is, turned up at my work on Friday with a bag of jeans and fabric. By the next morning, the jeans had a gold sequin flare with a leopard print fur panel running down the leg sides. Classic style, if I do say so myself.
You’ll notice that I’m sporting a rather fetching headscarf in the picture above. I’ve always always wanted curly hair, but I’m blessed/cursed with hair so straight it makes a ruler look wonky. I actually had my hair permed when I was in Cambodia (very little photographic evidence exists) but it was so disastrous for my tresses that I ended up cutting it out. However, in true seventies fashion, I spent some of Friday evening dowsing my hair in setting lotion and winding it round bits of plastic before going to bed.
It went a bit wavy. Or more precisely, some of it was a bit wavy and some of it stayed a bit straight. And the whole thing was a bit crispy. This warranted an emergency trip to buy curling tongs, whilst looking like a red setter crossed with a poodle
. My appearance didn’t actually bother me, I’ve looked odder. Hells bells, I was trying to dress up like a young Penelope Keith
Whilst some party-goers were not averse to the more interesting sartorial elements of the decade, I still wanted to look a bit alright. So I had my make-up done by Jodie, a proper make-up person. I was a little nervous, given my abundance of freckles and make-up people’s usual preference to match foundation to the colour of my freckles and not the Yorkshire white skin underneath. The resulting tide marks on my neck are not generally the look I go for and often need much scrubbing to remove. But Jodie managed it perfectly; it was my face but better.
It was also the first time I’ve ever matched my make-up to my dress. My eyes were ringed in bright orange eyeshadow blended with brown. Classic seventies colour combination but not one I would ever have gone for on my own. That’s why Jodie did my make-up and not me. If I’d done it, I bet you that I’d look like a diseased rabbit.
Jodie usually does weddings and I think (hope) she had fun making us look suitably retro. I really really recommend her, she’s at Makeup & Nails by Jodie
if you are in need of a lovely make-up person.
So that was last night! The party was good throwback fun, with wonderful veggie food, much fizzy wine and good dancey fun. I’m regularly told that I’m not the world’s best dancer, but I have found my decade: the seventies. All that pointy wiggly strutty stuff is right up my alley. I was just born twenty years too late.
Today I’ve spent recovering, more from the 3am bedtime than anything else. I’m not as young as I used to be, and I need bed by 10 nowadays.
Today I am wearing:
- The Dress.
- H&M hoodie.
- Black skinny jeans.
- Slippers because cool people wear slippers.
In fact, I only wore the jeans because I went to Sainsbury’s for special food treats. Granola squares, grapes, Innocent smoothies. We do hangovers well in my house. I did try to buy Coke to ease myself through today, but got confused and bought Coke Zero. I didn’t understand why the Coke tasted odd until A pointed out what I’d bought. I’m an eejit sometimes.
Anyway, I spent quite a lot of last night bending people’s ear about this here blog and fundraising thing. If you’re new here, hello, hope you’re keeping well. I’m raising money for St Michael’s Hospice in Harrogate, because they looked after my Nan at the end of her days. They do an amazing job and need all the support they can get. Anything you can spare would be so so appreciated.
Thank you very much.