Monday, 6 August 2012
The 'Vintage Dream Team'
I considered the other day who my vintage ‘dream team’ might be? If the vagaries of time and motion could be overcome, bank accounts were full of shekels and I could beam myself around London Star Trek style?
First of all the basics, eyebrow shaping, facialistic fiddling, eyelash lashing the clipping of nails and the waxing of, well whatever needs to be waxed. For this I would find myself in Anerley Hill in the elegant surroundings of La Belle Jolie, listening to Ella Fitzgerald whilst talons are painted jungle red by the charming Renee. Basic canvas prepared and polished I would need to consider my hair.
On my magic carpet to Carnaby Street to Miss Betty’s in Kingly Street for a sharp cut, zinging colour and a proper fringe. Here I can relax with a cup of coffee from Sacred coffee on the ground floor and listen to the best rock and roll in a red rockabilly paradise of a salon whilst wishing that my French was better…
Should I want a perm with a vintage set I might jump on a mystery train to deepest darkest Walthamstow to see Claire who knows her way around a set of perming rods. I’d get a mug of tea and a complimentary cute dog.
If I wanted to then trip off and buy the perfect little thirties day dress in mint condition I might board a steampunk airship to the Vintage Emporium off Brick Lane, which also sometime provides good dog stroking opportunities. If in need of vintage shopping advice I might turn to the lovely Naomi Thompson to come and help me out.
My underpinnings would be provided by What Katie Did as second hand undies are not my thing and WKD’s mesh seams are amongst the toughest most glamorous hosiery items there are.
If I want to set my look off with a nice brooch I would then find myself at the little retro fair at Norwood Feast with friendly sellers, funky music, cheap prices and that relaxed Sarf London vibe. I would top it off with a bespoke hat from Kezia Argue, Atelier Millinery or Pip Hackett.
Shoe wise the Miss L Fire website would magically transform into a physical shop with handsome boys in tops and tails offering a range of colourful shoes for my perusal.
Finally I would trot into a ChapOlympiad, drenched in sunshine with a Fortnum and Mason’s hamper on one arm and a moustachioed gent with a twinkle in his eye on the other. Well that is my London Dream Team, what’s yours?