catchmyfancy: (he is dashing)
That would be my version of Breakfast at Tiffany's.

As well as a French cultural repository, Le Louvre is a shop up the Paris End of Collins Street in the Melbourne CBD, and it's been there for many years

Here is the shop front (as captured most beautifully by the American blogger The Sartorialist who basically roams the streets of fabulous cities and takes photos of stylish people out and about - I love to see all those wonderfully stylish gents making the world a slightly better place by getting out there and being elegant and original - and even the odd Melbourne cultural icon as per his photo below):

See those two windows either side?  Those windows are changed about once a week.  Sometimes what's in them seems unwearable and bizarre.  Sometimes what they have is so fabulous my jaw drops and I just stare.  And there's no predicting which way it will go.

I noticed the windows about 20 years ago, when I was but a grotty little student and I would catch the no 42 tram up Collins Street and out to North Richmond and my singing lesson.  Seeing what was new in the windows became one of the highlights of my week.  And I've always gone out of my way - if I'm in the City - to saunter past and see what's in there THIS week.

Until we wandered past this evening and NO. NO. NO!  There was a sign up saying "We are moving".

Of course: being Le Louvre, they didn't say where they were moving TO.  I just hope it's not deepest darkest Balwyn or somewhere equally non-vibrant. 

Oh: right.  South Yarra.  Super.  Still: it's worth reading the rather dispassionate real estate cockroach article, you get the feeling that Therein Lay an Epic Battle.

catchmyfancy: Variant of old "Keep calm & carry on" WWII poster - text saying "get excited and make things" (Make things!)
So I made a clutch bag and helped with getting Ingrid's outfit sorted out to be a maid of honour at her friends' wedding today.

I was hoping to see some pix of the whole shebang a bit later in the week........but this evening there was a phone call, followed shortly by a tired and slightly-wild-around-the-eyes Miss Ingy arriving to park herself on her favourite easy chair in my loungeroom, demanding tea, hugs and attention, and not necessarily in that order.  

My diagnosis:  classic bridesmaid syndrome - all the stress and carry-on and preparation and worry - and at the end of it, her cause was not advanced.  Happy her friends were married and everything went off well, but she needed to decompress.

Win-win all round - I got to see THE OUTFIT, in real time with all her hair and makeup still done and admire the finished effect slavishly and take many photos - none of this was a hardship, given my Thing about vintage dresses, and the fact that we had pretty much dressed her By Committee, and the finished product did us all proud.

She looked like she had stepped from 1967 straight into 2009, and she carried it off superbly:

More photos of the fabulousness... )
catchmyfancy: (age-related)
This is the sort of website that

(a) totally SHOULD NOT be allowed


(b) oh dear god YES IT SHOULD.

Because of this

And - oh - yes - this.  (Never would or could wear it, doesn't stop my jaw dropping).

Really, I mean. REALLY. 

If you'll excuse me, I need to go and get a towel.  (you can make your own guess as to what I need to clean up.)

ETA: Oh for crying out loud.     And then there's this.    And also, just to make me cry because it was on sale and is now sold and is gorgeous and vintage and embroidered, this

And I want to dress [ profile] infoaddict  in this.   And my  sister or [info]giddyaunt  in this.

*sigh*  Back to cataloguing all my books on LibraryThing.  Which is a good and honourable task, and there is no reason at all for the sudden urge to put on a 1950s cocktail dress and swish around in heels and fabulous faux gems (while sipping delicately from a martini) instead. 


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