summertime

I'm a big believer in having wardrobe staples - a brenton striped top, a black skirt, nude ballet flats, and the like.  And I'm also a big believer in mixing things up and not letting yourself live only within the confines of those staples.  But I'm ALSO a big believer in having a uniform for each season.  To say I'm indecisive would be an understatement, and having an outfit that I can fall back on during my frequent times of indecisiveness is a necessity.

So this season I'm getting ahead of the game and piecing together my uniform BEFORE I spend an ungodly amount of time standing in front of my closet in nothing but my skivvies.  Though with the heat we get in Florida, standing around in nothing but my skivvies would solve many problems.
  

 

So here it is!  Vintage shorts + sleeveless button up top + cateyes.  I call it "Betty Draper meets Sweaty Floridian." 

         

And it wouldn't be summer without a new pair of sunglasses.  These, from Curio Goods here in Tallahassee, are a beautiful cream color with little rhinestones in each corner.  Perfectly cool for this awfully hot weather. 

Stay cool, wherever you are!

xoxo,

Eliza

bald point

I'm almost certain that most of life's small annoyances and even some of life's great tragedies can be remedied with a trip to the beach.  Now I'm not sure that there's a scientific reason for this phenomenon, but I chalk it up to the combination of cold salt water, warm breezes, and the sweet sound of waves crashing against the shore and birds calling out to each other.

I'm sure a case can be made for every beach in North America, but you haven't truly experienced the beach until you've been to Bald Point, right here in Florida.  There's really something magical about a pristine white beach, free from the high rises and beer pong tournaments one usually finds in this part of Florida.  The hour long drive from Tallahassee takes you past all the sights that make this state such an oxymoron - first you pass government buildings and law offices, then Walmarts, Dollar Stores, and Piggly Wigglys, then onto long stretches of road with an over-abundance of bail bonds offices and tattoo shops and oyster bars streaking past the car windows.  An endless parade of fire stations, and Ace Hardware stores, and gas stations, until finally, nature takes control of the environment and for several miles its nothing but pine trees and palm trees and scrubby oak trees mixed in with open Savannahs of tall grass and alligators, as far as the eye can see.  Then a bridge, and a small marked road, and a ten minute drive past rental houses and fishing boats and boiled peanut stands, until finally, the State Park sign appears in the distance.  The beach itself is relatively small, but littered with ancient palmettos, and great masses of exposed pine tree roots, and enormous sand dunes, and wild, untouched beauty.

So I say it again - if you haven't been to Bald Point, you haven't truly experienced the beach as it was meant to be experienced.  But enough of my ramblings!

My sweet mama and I got up late this morning and decided there was no time like the present to pack a lunch and head down to the coast.  One hour later we staked out our spot, dove into our lunch (three bean salad, potato salad, deviled eggs, green olives, watermelon, and baby Cokes), and spent a glorious afternoon exploring our surroundings.

 

            

 

 

There really is something magical about the beach.

xoxo,
Eliza

springtime in the south

Everyone has that one outfit that feels fresh and interesting every time they slip into it.  For me, that outfit is a beautiful gray 1950s dress printed with small white petals and an outrageously large floral hat from the early 1950s.  The hat I picked up in an antique store in Hiawassee, Georgia, eight years ago - I had seen it the previous year, but it was out of my price range.  But as luck (and the Vintage Gods) would have it, when I went back a year later, there it was!  In the same store, in the same place, with a much lower price on the tag.  The dress was picked up from Dalena Vintage and is now a staple in my wardrobe.  Worn separately, both pieces are beautiful.  But worn together, they look as though they were never meant to be worn apart.

 

 

 It was very windy today at the Springtime Tallahassee celebrations, and I stupidly left home without a hatpin, so my arms got lots of unnecessary exercise.  After shopping the vendors, listening to music, and eating our weight in kettle corn, my beautiful mama and I took a tour of the Old Capitol Museum, where we found an exhibit about historic Florida State Parks.  It couldn't have been a more perfect day (although I could have done without the thick layer of soggy oak pollen that carpeted every surface...but that's life in the south). 

 Happy Spring!

xoxo,

Eliza

the basics of style

I often find myself in situations where people ask me why I spend so much of my life surrounded by the past.  Why do I dress in vintage clothing?  Why do I set my hair nearly every night?  Why do I spend countless hours researching novelty prints, various silhouettes, and hat styles?  Why do I only buy vintage clothing?

 

Now I know it sounds simple, but I feel my most comfortable in vintage styles, I love my hair when it spent the night in pin curls, and vintage clothing is simply better quality than most of the clothing produced today.  There's just something special about taking the time to curate a wardrobe and knowing that behind every piece is a long history and a long list of women who have loved it as much as you do now.

It's all about attention to detail.  It's about the silhouette.  It's about the colors, and the textures, and the accessories.  And it's also about the journey - you can't walk into any old store and find a new addition to your wardrobe.  It takes time, and patience, and trial and error to find your style.

 

And it also takes a new attitude.  In a world where casual is king, it takes gumption to be the most dressed up person in the room.  Expect stares.  Expect comments.  And expect the all-to-common "wow, you're dressed up" remark.  But more than that, you have to be confident in your own ability to wear the clothes, instead of letting the clothes wear you.  You have to be comfortable in your own skin.

 

I always think of my grandparents - both exceptionally well-dressed - who always gave me pieces of advice, whether or not they knew they were doing it.  When she was grocery shopping, entertaining grandchildren, or cooking for Thanksgiving, even when she was in the hospital, my grandmother always wore lipstick.  The same shade, the same brand, for my entire childhood.  She kept a small box in the bathroom with lipstick, powder, and a small bottle of perfume.  She kept her nail polish in the fridge because she swore it lengthened its life.  Her hair was always done, even when she could no longer do it herself.  She didn't do it to impress anyone, she didn't do it to please society - she did it for herself. 

My grandfather was always meticulously dressed.  He was a man who owned approximately 14,000 blue button down shirts because they were his favorite.  A man whose closet was better stocked and more organized than a Prada warehouse.  And a man who could rock a bathrobe and slippers just as much as he could rock a tweed suit.  He taught me that one doesn't always need to be daring in one's appearance.  Sometimes the basics are simply the best.

Now, I don't keep my nail polish in the fridge, and I have a really hard time sticking to the basics, and therefor my grandparents are probably both wagging a finger at me right now, but these lessons can be adapted to fit your own lifestyle.  Welcome to my three rules of style.  These are by no means strict, and are open to interpretation, but when I'm having trouble coming up with a new outfit or find myself feeling gross no matter what I'm wearing, here are the rules I fall back on:

1.  Don't overestimate simplicity.  A fitted black skirt, a white blouse, and black ballet flats. Black and white stripes.  Black cigarette pants.  You don't always need to be loud to be stylish.

2.  Find your length.  Also known as, Mini Skirts Aren't for Everyone.  As someone who owns five miniskirts, I clearly have both a problem abiding by rules, and getting rid of clothing, but I also know that I look best in mid-length skirts that hit three inches below the knee.  This knowledge comes from years of wearing super short skirts in ballet class that barely grazed the derriere (over tights and a leotard, and point shoes), and another number of years wearing maxi skirts in the summertime so I wouldn't have to shave my legs. One was too short, one was too long, and one was just right.

3. Dress by the silhouette.  When you begin to think what you want to wear, instead of thinking about colors, patterns, and particular styles, think about your ideal silhouette.  What shape do you want to wear?  If someone took a high contrast photograph of you, so that everything was split into light and dark, what would your silhouette look like?  Once you know what shape you want to achieve, then you can work from there.

 

And the most important rule?  Life is too short to wear boring clothes, and too long to hate what you wear.  So build up from the basics, and never be afraid to be the most dressed up person in the room.

xoxo,
Eliza

~ holiday cheer ~

The leaves have fallen.  The cookies are baked.  The wrapping paper is down from the attic.

The Holidays are here.

 

And with the Holidays come holiday parties, holiday music on the record player, and a sudden desire to not wear what I slept in.  The fake eyelashes come out of their box, stockings out of their drawer, hair is put into pin curls, nailed are painted, and festive clothing rescued from the back of the closet.

 Perhaps it's the Publix commercials that never fail to bring me to tears, or seeing wreaths hung on doors, or stockings over fireplaces, but the holiday season seems especially merry this year.

2015 has done its best to knock me down - and it's going out with a bang - but despite the painful things in this world, the holiday season still comes around, presents are still given, and love is still shared.  There may be days when it's hard to get out of bed, and hard to face the things one must face, but these moments of happiness (however fleeting) make life worth while.

 

So, Happy Holidays.  Hold your loved-ones close, appreciate what you have, and eat lots of cookie dough.

xoxo,

Eliza

~ summertime ~

As the days grow shorter and summertime draws to a close, the Florida weather is creeping closer to 90 degrees/farther from 100, the air is slowly dehumidifying, and the beach trips are becoming fewer and farther between.  But as any true Floridian knows, summertime is not officially over until Halloween, even though last minute costume changes might be necessary due to overnight temperature plunges.  To celebrate my return to the U.S., the beautiful weather, and my total lack of coursework for this semester, a beach trip was most definitely in order.

I wore a vintage two-tone bathing suit that I picked up from a little shop in the UK.

It was a beautifully clear day, with only a few clouds in the sky and only a few people on the beach.  We ate quinoa salad and potato chips, read, took naps, and then headed over to Apalachicola to snoop in the shops and meet friendly people.  It was a perfect day and a even more perfect way to postpone fall as long as possible.

I'm ready to do it all again.

xoxo,

Eliza

~ the stray ~

Ever since I was little and read books like Alice in Wonderland, Linnea in Monet's Garden, and Anne of Green Gables, I've had dreams of running through the tall green grass in a vast meadow on a warm day.

Thanks to beautiful weather and a perfectly-placed flat, I lived out that dream.

And it was just as heavenly as I always imagined it would be.

{Photos by my sweet friend Sarah, who put up with my micromanaging beautifully}

It was a warm evening with a nice breeze (which gave a gaggle of university boys a nice look at my undies), so I whipped out my new (to me) 1980s-does-1950s dress which I picked up in Manchester, and paired it with my favorite bakelite bangles and hoops.

I'd be happy to do nothing but frolick in the Stray for the rest of my days.

xoxo,

Eliza

~ one hundred hats ~

Someone wise once said that once you hit a certain number, a hobby becomes a collection, and once you hit another number, a collection becomes an obsession.  From then on, you (and everyone who has the great misfortune to visit your house) enter, dangerously, into hoarder territory.

I think, now, of my grandparents.  One who kept everything that contained one speck of sentimentality.  Another who routinely vacuumed the floor under the table after every meal with such tenacity that even the smallest of crumb didn't stand a chance.  One who kept every single dress, hat, baby shoe, and letter from summer camp neatly tucked away in boxes, garment bags, and heavy trunks.  Another who would gladly have thrown away everything that wasn't nailed down.

Wager a guess as to which one I'm most like.

I might as well point out that I have excluded two hat boxes, one travel hat case, one suitcase, and the countless hats that liter my vanity table (and every level surface in my bedroom).

As of last week, the grand total hits somewhere around 50 - a number that makes me both proud and a little scared for the sagging shelf in my closet where nearly all fifty hats are stored.  Now what, you may ask, do I DO with all of these hats?  Despite my mixed emotions (equal parts adoration and fear), and the baffled looks on the faces of those who are not hat collectors, this question set me out on a mission: style and photograph all 50 hats that are currently in my collection, and the 50 more that will inevitably take their place on the closet shelf.

Welcome to the OneHundredHats Project!  Watch my Instagram (@vintagerosegirl) for photos, information on the hat style, label, age, and where I found it.

Hat No. 1

Hat No. 2

Hat No.3

Happy collecting!

xoxo,

Eliza

~ flower power ~

Do you ever buy a new (old) dress and suddenly feel that, for that moment, everything is right with the world?  Or is that just me?  Yesterday my friend Alex and I walked in to Other Side Vintage in Railroad Square and this dress caught my eye within the first ten minutes.  It was too hot to try on the 50s plaid skirt or the 70s knitted dress I had also picked out, so I stuck to the 60s dresses and 50s button ups.

Maybe it was the soul-draining heat or the power-punch of protein from having just eaten a veggie burger the size of my head, but yesterday was undoubtedly one of those everything-is-right-with-the-world experiences.

A 1960s blue/green/white explosion of flowers that can be worn with sleeves rolled up or down, with a (matching) belt or without, can be worn at any time of year, and is currently my favorite thing in my closet.

The tag reads Shannon Rodgers for Jerry Silverman, a brand that dates back to 1959.  

How strange to think that a design that is nearly 60 years old is still as relevant and stylish as the day it was produced.  I don't know how Shannon Rodgers and Jerry Silverman would feel knowing that their design is being worn and loved all those years later, but I like to think it would make them proud.

So thank you for your design, gentlemen.  And don't worry - I'll take good care of it.

xoxo,

Eliza

~ mrs. robinson ~

For someone who loves cats of all kinds as much as I do, you would think I would own more leopard print than I currently do.  But for now I only have two large leopard print scarves, that when skillfully placed, can give the appearance of a leopard print top, leopard print turban, and leopard print lingerie (see below).

Now, this is definitely a good start, but in order to reach my dream wardrobe, I'll need to take a leaf out of the book of these rad ladies and go into full-leopard mode....

And of course, saving the best for last...

After all, what's life without a little leopard?

xoxo,

Eliza