Fancy teacups and toasty soldiers

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it was like to be a child. Often I'll be doing something completely unrelated, going about my daily routine, and some mysterious thing will spark a memory. It usually shocks me at first, it's difficult to fathom what brought on the sudden flashback. What is even more interesting is how the cheeky buggers often run away with me. One memory bumps into another and causes all the dominos to topple over until I am left in a glowing bundle of nostalgia. I want to write it all down so that I can go back and read it over and over so that it never leaves my mind again. But I guess that takes the beauty away from the 'memory'. It might become something I've studied, rather than a beautiful fleeting moment that takes my breath away and makes me immeasurably happier in that moment than I was before. Although I have come to the realisation that despite the memory itself being a blissful one, it can sometimes leave me feeling a bit sad. Mostly because it suddenly dawns on me that I have lost most of that innocence that I should have been hanging onto, kicking and screaming.

Just the other day I was boiling myself an egg for breakfast and, as I was popping a slice of bread into the toaster as a delightful accompaniment, I remembered how, as a child, I would refuse to eat the breakfast Granny had made for me if the toast wasn't cut into soldiers and humpty wasn't sitting in my favourite egg cup. For a child, the little details always make the biggest difference. This made me think of something Hayley said to me about drinking tea. She said: "Tea always tastes better out of a fancy teacup" - with the matching saucer obviously. It's totally true though. When you drink tea like that (with that pointy little pinky finger faining independence) it does seem all the more special.

These things seem so silly and futile, but they never fail to put a smile on your face. It got me thinking about other areas of life where we lose the detail as we grow older. With each year we strive to look at the bigger picture - to be adult, mature, rational - and with that we can lose the beauty of the seemingly insignificant details. Having a sleepover in a blanket fort you set up in the lounge with piles of sheets and every chair available to you, using glittery or puffy stickers to adorn the envelope holding the little note you wrote to your friend just for fun. I think it makes all the difference to how we view life. Lilah's dad was talking about living 'in the moment' the other day. What I found so profound was how he said we often don't live life in the moment because we're too busy thinking about something else. Sometimes as I'm driving from place to place, I realise that for ten whole minutes I wasn't actually concentrating on what I was physically doing,  I couldn't even remember what had happened on the road or what I had passed during that stretch of the drive because my mind was wandering to what had happened an hour before, or what I was going to do on the weekend. 

I've decided that if I begin to focus on the small details, each moment will be so much richer and more valuable...admiring a patch of light falling on my sheets through my bedroom window and running through the sprinkler on a warm day instead of lying around moaning "Aah, It's sooooooo hot!" And in creating too, using small details to enhance a seemingly simple piece.

Re-innovation

It must have been just over a year ago when Mom and I stumbled across this interesting find at a P.U.P.P charity store. It was hanging right in the window and while browsing through all the other musty old clothing, my eye couldn't help but wander back to it, and my mind couldn't help but wander too, to all the beautiful things it could be. Mom and I had commented on it when walking in and discussed whether it would be a good buy. Was R250 too much for something with a little rip below the centre back zip, some interesting stains and some kitsch plastic beads and flowers adorning it in some rather odd places? On one special day, it must have made some girl very very happy, and that to me was worth something. We left without it, but I kept thinking about it for days afterward, and so did Mom. So you can imagine my excitement when she came to me a few days later and said she had been thinking about it and decided she would go back and get it for me.

That said, it had been hanging up in my room ever since Mom brought it back from the shop over a year ago. In my slightly vintage, eclectic bedroom, it made a lovely statement. It became like part of the furniture, but I still passed it on my way to my bathroom every day and knew that one day I would make something a bit more useful and pretty out of it. Yesterday was that day! 

I unpicked the plastic flowers from the centre-front seam of the skirt, removed the beaded anglaise inset from the neckline, chopped it to knee length and used the excess fabric to patch up the little hole in the back. After that I created a nice open, rounded neckline and created some sheer geometric shapes by cutting through the satin lining to expose areas through the lace. I'm excited to wear my new-old white party frock - now all I need is some sort of invitation...

Savior Brand Co.

I woke up this morning to a flashing phone. One inbox message reading: '@saviorbrandco is now following you on Twitter!' Often I'll click follow (provided it doesn't look like some creeper) with the intention of taking a better look at the official website at some point, but often not really getting around to it. But today was different. Today I walked to the PC downstairs and typed the 'Savior Brand Co.' web address into the url bar to take a further look. I was elated with what I found. Beautiful, hand crafted leather totes and other wonderful accessories. However, there was something even more special about this brand. Based in Durban, the husband and wife duo have started an initiative in which they take on orphans over the age of eighteen who are said to have 'come of age' and are no longer welcome in the orphanages and institutions they were initially placed in. These young adults are sent out onto the streets with no prospects and no support in starting careers. Max and his wife, who have been working in the fashion and design industry for about twenty years, have made it their joy to teach these young adults valuable artisanal skills and the beauty of creation.

Since the age of sixteen when I first made the decision to attend a fashion academy after matric, I decided that I would love to start an initiative similar to this one one day - passing on knowledge and skills to those less fortunate, not just so that they can work for someone else, but so that they too can be inspired and use the skills they learn to create what they love. Which is why I clicked the 'Contact' icon on the links bar of the Savior Brand Co. website and emailed Max right away to find out more and get some advice. I was so excited to meet (if you could call an email introduction 'proper') a fellow God-lover - someone who is so passionate about spreading His love and helping out where possible. Max gave me some great advice and mentorship. 

There was a reason why I briskly brushed the sleep out of my eyes this morning to take a better look at the 'Savior Brand Co.' website. There was a reason why I had the courage to email Max right away, without hesitation. I am hoping to meet Max when he comes down to Cape Town later on this year and possibly help out with a similar initiative he is starting up with some churches in Cape Town, as well as get some more great advice from him. Exciting things around the corner - watch this space!

Below are some images of 'Savior's' beautiful work...

Spies in lingerie

How I came to find myself in a little Greek restaurant sipping on red wine, eating stuffed tomatoes and hearing the stories of a grandmother who in her earlier days had created bias-cut lingerie for the likes of Princess Diana and the Princess of Monaco, will always take my breath away. One hot evening, Natalie and I found ourselves watching mountain goats, crystal blue waters and ashen hilltops travel backwards past us while we sat, feeling mildly carsick, in the boot of a tiny 4x4. We had decided to join our friends, Alison and Lilah, and Lilah's family and friends, in the town of Stavros for dinner, about 30 minutes away from the town of Vathi, Ithaki where we had been staying all week. When we joined the rest of the party in a little taverna in town, we ordered jugs of wine and sat chatting and sipping while our elbows and forearms became glued to the plastic table cloths in the sticky heat. 

Amongst Lilah's family friends, we met a beautiful, British grandmother who seemed very quiet and reserved at first. That was until Lilah's dad told her that Natalie and I were fashion designers. She became instantly vibrant and animated when talking about our common passion. One of her first jobs in the fashion industry, was working in a beautiful, five-storey, Georgian House in London for two brothers. On each floor, a different department was covered - ladies' ready-to-wear, menswear, kidswear, swimwear and evening wear. Each week, a new range was developed for which she was responsible for co-ordinating, managing and making sure that each department's range fit together into a common theme specific to the company's aesthetic. As interesting as this was, my favourite story was how she came to find herself creating silk lingerie for the rich and famous. 

After working for these brothers for a few years, she decided to go out on her own and start a silk lingerie company with her husband. We asked her why she chose silk lingerie and her response was: "Because I knew nothing about it, and I wanted a challenge." Is there anything more admirable and inspiring? Every night she would go for bias-cutting lessons at the home of an old Austrian woman, who had created lingerie for female spies during the Second World War. She learnt from the best - this Austrian woman was a master in it, because she had to create lingerie that looked identical to that which was made in Germany, so that spies couldn't get sussed out during searches.  

When she had learnt the art of silk bias-cutting, she went on to teach her own assistants and begin her company. At the time, there were only two designers specialising in silk lingerie - herself, and a Milan based designer known as Lily Anna Rubitchini (how great is that name?). Lily Anna's husband was the spokesperson for all the Milan fashion shows, and banned his wife's competitor from featuring in any of the couture fashion shows. That didn't stop our heroine, she went on to create for the likes of movie stars and royals.

About the art of bias-cutting she said: "It needs to have enough stretch to slip on the body without zips or buttons, but still cling in all the right places"

Francesco Scognamiglio Spring 2013

As a creative, I often find I draw most inspiration from things that are related, but often quite different, to the field I am focused on at a given time. For me, fashion is about a lifestyle. When thinking about the person I am designing for, I enjoy creating a little story for them (sometimes more detailed than is necessary). The idealistic view in my mind's eye of the girls I create for is often quite dreamlike and a little bit ridiculous. I imagine their lives right down to the silly thoughts that run through their minds while driving around town, or who their ideal man would be. I find it is often these things that make her unique, and help me to create clothing for her with simple little details that only make sense to her. These details makes each piece special.

This might explain then, why for someone who's 'About Me' column describes them as a clothing designer, I haven't yet left one fashion related post. 

Francesco Scognamiglio's Spring 2013 collection below is one that I found so beautiful. There were three main elements to the collection that I really enjoyed...

Soft, flowing maxi skirts and feminine, anglaise blouses will never get old to me; especially in the simple, monochromatic palette he has stuck to for spring. To me, there is nothing more admirable than a pretty girl who can rock a feminine white frock with confidence. There is something so pure but so sexy about it at the same time. Those little white breeches whispering through maxi skirts are a silent killer.

When I first came upon the black chiffon blouse with encrusted birds, my initial reaction was a bit undecided. However, when I saw the same detail on the white trousers, I decided that I really love it. It transforms these minimal, monochromatic pieces into stately works of art.

Now, aside from loving a pretty blouse, I am also a total sucker for sportswear. What I love even more is how the femme and the sport have been paired here in perfect doses. The sporty shape and fabrication of the netted, tank dress with wiry binding on the hem, combined with the pale lilac anglaise detail, is so stellar in my eyes; and alongside this tonally embroidered blouse with drawstring, high-waisty shorts, my closet pangs!

Flapper Jacks

Mom's been on this health kick for a little while now, trying out wheat-free options as much as possible. About a month ago, a lovely German friend bought her a bag of what is known as 'Spelt ' flour from a bakery known as 'Dinkel' on Kloof Nek road in Cape Town. Upon waking up this fine, Saturday morning, the natural question to pop into our heads was: "What's for breakfast?" Flapjacks being the first delicious idea to pop up, we decided to try out a recipe from the 'Food Ideas' magazine, but substitute regular flour for Spelt. Couldn't even tell the difference! Smothered in butter and jam, it probably wasn't any healthier than the original recipe - but we convinced ourselves otherwise.

The art of 'Burrowing'

With the help of my bestie, I constructed a top ten list of burrowing tactics. Perfect for those days when you don't feel like leaving the house, or somebody made you sad or you just feel like enjoying life a little more selfishly for once. We all need a little escape every once in a while, and with some skill and practice, some professional burrowing can keep your head from spinning right off.

How do I like my coffee?

My tastes in coffee usually go as far as a coffee flavoured milkshake or something high in chocolate content, with a little dash of what might resemble coffee sprinkled in at the end. Yes I know! I'm a hazard. But you'll be happy to know that about two weeks ago I had my first cup of premium roasted coffee, and you'll be even happier to know that I loved it.

About two weeks ago, Alison and I had just been to our first visit to the sock manufacturers, and we decided to stop in at her cousin's roastery, Rosetta Roastery, at the Woodstock Industrial Centre, on our way home. The building is currently undergoing some extreme but exciting renovations - which could only mean great things for all the passionate and talented artisans embracing the change as well.

Rosetta's coffees are handpicked and imported from all the best places; only those with the most unique and superior flavours make their way into the bag. What is even more brilliant, is that every coffee is treated differently, with respect and mindfulness of it's own specific flavours.

Being able to see how it's done and listen to Rob speak about his coffee with so much passion and animation was so inspiring to see. I haven't had another cup of coffee since, but only because I don't want to taint that first grand experience. So to answer the question 'how do I like my coffee?' I can only reply: "hand-picked and premium roasted."

To taste Rosetta Roastery's amazing coffees, you can find them at 'The Biscuit Mill' Market every Saturday morning.

'Oh Comely' Magazine

During my three week stint in England, my travel partner, Natalie, and I were staying in a University town known as Kingston, just outside of London. My lovely, loopy friend from high school, Megan, who now studies fine art in Kingston, was gracious enough to let us make her little living room our hobbit hole. Her fold-out sleeper couch doubled as a dumping ground for our many items bought on shopping sprees in Oxford Street, as well as, a place to rest our heads after hours of tourism and braving the bustling Underground.

One weekend, Megan invited us along to Bath with her to visit her Mom. A few days prior to the journey, the three of us debated possible modes of transport for what was probably longer than necessary. Train or Bus? A train would take half the time but be double the price. A bus...cheaper...but what you save in cash you pay for in extra hours and extra smells traveling from the in-carriage toilet. In the end the backpackers triumphed (if you can call it that) on the basis that our money situation would be pretty tight over the next few months.

So there we were, standing in WHSmith with plastic packets filled with all the best travel snacks, staring at the magazine stand deciding which magazine would keep us entertained when we had had enough of our ipods and attempts at sleep. I flicked quickly through a few glossies and beautiful fashion mags, but realised I never really read those. I just stare at the pages covered in all the clothes I want for a few moments and when I'm done I am left dreaming of the clothes, quite unfulfilled - because in what life would I own an exquisite Rodarte dress or Stella McCartney blouse? When my attempts at making a healthy decision failed, I traipsed over to the counter to pay for a Mars bar and a few extra packets of Haribo and happened to glance down at the news stand and see this beauty:

I didn't even have to look past the cover because I knew at first glance that I wanted it! It didn't just keep me occupied for the six hour bus trip, it left me feeling completely inspired. I feel like if you had to look at me, I would have had a hazy, happy glow around me. I'm so excited to say that I just bought a year subscription to it last week, and I can't wait to get the next installment in the mail. Each page is beautiful and thoughtful. "Keep your curiosity sacred" - that's the slogan - and curious is exactly how I felt within the first few moments of reading. My favourite articles inside issue ten were about the beauty of solitude and the art of perfumery. I also loved some of the answers readers had sent in to the question: "What's the best cure for a broken heart?" My favourite response was this: "Best cure for a broken heart is to learn a new constellation every time you get sad, make a cup of tea and drink it under your duvet every time you get angry, and when you feel alone, surround yourself with travel guides and plan your round-the-world trip. This way a broken heart will ultimately lead to understanding the whole universe."

If you get a chance, please take a look at 'Oh Comely' . Definitely the most worthwhile read.

A lifelong obsession

It may sound a bit silly, maybe slightly absurd, but I have this obsession with socks. And it's a lifelong obsession that one of my best and oldest friends, Alison, has shared with me. 

I'm sure most Cape Townian girls roundabout my age can remember a store that was a millennium hit - 'The Space Station'. If the glow-in-the-dark, alien-head earrings didn't put you off, the synthetic pink fur and shiny silver skirts certainly would have. But to a 90's kid taking on the 2000's (or just a 2012 Hipster), that place was heaven! Mom really fulfilled her motherly duties by only letting me spend a few minutes in there on each trip to the 'Cavendish Square'. A minute more and the flashing lights and rave music might have hypnotised me into splurging out the entirety of my R50 pocket money on a fluorescent choker chain. However, it was on one unsupervised trip to the mall that Alison and I spent a few extra minutes in there, but this time we found treasure. With smiles covering each of our faces, we walked out with matching socks. But these weren't just any socks. These socks were pretty and lacy, and they only covered half the foot with pretty little ribbons tying up around your ankles. Ali got the baby blue and I left with pink. Who would have known 'The Space Station' had it in them? From then on we wore them everywhere...to dance class, the beach, and prancing around the house.

On a far more embarrassing occasion, the two of us left a little accessory story in Sun Valley with matching tights. My chubby purple and black striped legs could be likened most to those of a Cheshire cat, while Ali's little skinny ones, drowning in lumo orange and black, made her look a bit like a confused, acid-tripping bumble bee. I'm quite glad those laddered quickly and I don't have any remnants to post a photo of.

For birthdays and travel gifts, socks have been the winning ticket. As much as we've loved them, we've also misused them a few times by using them for mud sliding in my pony's paddock in the depths of rainy winter. But we've both agreed that there's nothing more comforting and more beautiful than a lovely pair of socks. Which is why we've decided to start a little venture together, which you'll be seeing more and more of in the coming weeks. We want to create beautiful, exclusively designed socks that can be the feature of an outfit, but also make you feel like you're getting a long awaited homecoming hug every time you slip them on.

We've visited two manufacturers and are very excited about our design developments so far. Bring on the fun!

Colours we have to choose from - in beautiful natural fibres: Cotton and Bamboo

Some inspiration

One year older

I have this best friend. I like to believe we all have one; but yours is definitely not as cool as mine! Her name is Hayley, and even though we only met five years ago, it feels like I've known her all my life. It was her 21st birthday just a few weeks ago and in her speech I mentioned that just like 'Sweet Chili' or 'Tomato Sauce' make everything taste bland when they're not around, most situations are completely boring without her around. And being the Peter-Pan, never-growing-up type that she is, I thought I'd try attempt to soften the blow of growing a year older by getting all of her favourite people together in my garden and making a little film. In truth, she began the trend of birthday videos when she did the most swag version of 'Can't tell me nothing' By Kanye West, along with my other two besties (Ali and Frost) for my 21st (Chel's 21st video) ; but this one's quite different. Needless to say, she loved it. Take a look:

Shot by: Chelsea Frost
Edited by: Chelsey Wilson
Music: 'Blood' by The Middle East

Old stories, new means

My first blog post. Not my first ever, but definitely the first one to make sense. I remember in my first year of 'fashion college' I tried my hand at it...not a complete failed attempt, but extraordinarily naive and lacking in a clear sense of direction. Rehashing other people's ideas of 'cool' without much distinction between what was mine and what I had simply plucked from some other poor sap's attempts. This morning, I got slapped with a lovely wake-up call from a friend and mentor. I had just told her about my amazing three month journey around Europe, and her response went something along the lines of: "Why didn't I know about this already? Oh right! Because you weren't tweeting or blogging!"

So...here I go! Starting fresh! I screen shot a few cute (if not embarrassing) posts from the past, before deleting the musings of the headless, eighteen year old Chelsey. I am glad I kept that travel journal, and some stories will definitely make their way on here. This is where the old-fashioned pen and paper will point and laugh at cyber space and say: "where were you when she was watching the sun set over a lake in rural Germany?"Although, cyber space would have full right to snigger something like: "I'm sure she appreciated the extra 2kg's your heavy, leather-bound frame added to her already overflowing backpack." I must say I enjoyed that weight though, and I enjoy it even more now when I open it up and relive the experiences all over again.