I’m fresh from Ireland. There was cider and cobblestones and an overnight jaunt to a haunted castle. I ate eggs for breakfast every day, and slept in adorable B&Bs. I also stumbled into some vintage stores and met fabulous strangers.

The first rad vintage girl I met worked in Lucy’s Lounge in Temple Bar. I’ve met lots of 40s and 50s enthusiasts, but mod girls are so rare. Dandelion (even the name!) was in full mod regalia, right down to the Twiggy eyes. So fabulous, I can’t even take it.

On Friday I wandered out of the WB Yeats exhibition at the National Library and walked into this lovely Norwegian girl, a vision in green. Denise works in a vintage store in Norway, and was wearing a Collectif coat I’ve ogled online. What a babe.

I had to return to Lucy’s Lounge a second time to buy a faux fur-collared capelet (obviously), and met a score of other rad people.  I met Lucy, the extravagant store-owner, who has a blog of her own. And there was a vintage man! (Another rare breed). Endless mutual admiration.

So Ireland was a wild success on the vintage stranger front, unexpectedly so. The international code of vintage meant we all exchanged hellos and head nods and cooed over each other.

There are still some haunted castle photos to come, and hopefully some news after Saturday when I’ll have the keys to my new apartment!

Gros bisous de Lyon,

Michelle

In Lyon there’s a cathedral on the hill called “La Basilique de Fourvière”. It’s super-majestic and old, and if you do actually manage to walk up all the steps to the top (or catch the funiculière), there’s the most magical view of Presqu’ile, and the whole city. Heather and I caught the funiculière up at sunset to look at all the red roofs, and it was a little bit breathtaking. Regarde:

I’m wearing the Gretel coat from Collectif: almost as magical as the view. It was a London acquisition which has made the icy days in Lyon sort of more bearable. You’ll be seeing a lot of this coat, j’espère.

It’s bedtime in Ireland (I’m in Ireland!), so à bientôt, and gros bisous !

Michelle

I’m flying to London in a few hours! I’ll be in London this weekend visiting my great London lady-love, Lex, who I met last November in the Collectif boutique near Brick Lane. She’s another fabulous feminist/vintage girl (how do I find these people?), a high femme, and generally extravagant person. We were inseparable for the last days of my trip last year.

This weekend we’ll be bonding, brunching, and probably staring into each others’ eyes. In adorable news, Lex and her boyfriend Theo are engaged, as of Thursday, so there is that excitement to deal with.

There will be London/Lex blog updates, OBVIOUSLY, but if you stay tuned to @ravishingretro and @theseasonofthewitch on instagram, there will be much to see there, I promise you.

Gros bisous de Lyon,

Michelle

It’s a wonderful thing when two instagram accounts converge; a constant photo stream was happening, @-tags going wild. It’s also a wonderful thing when two blogs converge. Riikka has already written about the weekend here, and now I must show our pictures to the world.

We met in Helsinki on Friday, immediately scouted a perfect pair of 1940s platform heels, and went along our merry way in winter wonderland ridiculousness.

There were burlesque plans for the evening, obviously. Much preening ensued.

So then frocked up in a DIY sequinned capelet, I enjoyed incomprehensible Finnish burlesque with Riikka for hours. Actually I think the incomprehensible Finnish monologues made it all twice as good.

This was all in a Tiki Bar (obviously), so in between performances we sipped mai tais and worried about cultural appropriation (resources on tiki culture and cultural appropriation, anyone?). We also staged elaborate photoshoots, because our fashions must always be immortalised.

Then, the simply DECADENT Vaprikki-Vintage weekend in Tampere. En route:

Oh, there was everything. It was a dream vintage fair, with lots of everything at RIDICULOUS prices, and lots of pretty vintage people walking around in every era. MANY VINTAGE SIGHS.

It was so peculiar to see so many 30s and 40s ensembles in the crowd, more than I’ve ever seen before. Sydney’s vintage scene is very 50s-centric, so it’s so fascinating to me that Finland gravitates towards earlier decades. The hairstyles in particular were such a treat. So exquisite, ugh! I’m used to victory rolls, not finger waves. Look, Riikka and Jirina are such visions:

More Jirina, because don’t we all want more Jirina.

Look, I’m mixing with 1930s girls! And everyone is wearing velvet, so I’m definitely feeling overwhelmed. This was only my second outfit change for the day, too.

I bought the most amazing 1950s party frock, you’re all going to die. LOOOK!

It was only 50 euro. Actually. God, if frocks like this retailed for 50 euro in Australia, I don’t even know how we’d cope. It all got a bit hazy after the first frock, but I think I brought home three or four new treasures, mostly from Jirina’s collection, because we totally share a waist size. There were also girdles involved. More on this later.

I met so many fabulous people. Check out this gentleman in a  vintage safari outfit. SERIOUSLY. Let’s just appreciate him for a moment.

There was burlesque, and then we went home, via winter wonderland Finland. Exhibit A:

We celebrated the Saturday night of Vaprikki-Vintage by drinking rosé out of cans in retro underthings (apparently they do that in Finland: drink rosé out of cans). This is where the girdles became important.

And there was evening, and there was morning – the second day. Neverending vintage paradise.

There was shopping, and there was a Charleston class, and then a Finnish gentleman took me for a swing about the dance floor (how I’ve longed to lindy hop). No adjectives left because everything was just ugh.

I left Finland, and so it is that I find myself back in Lyon, France – which isn’t too bad, either. But I’m overcome with insane urges to spend all my weekends in the Nordic countries, because it seems to me that everyone there has red finger-waved hair and wears velvet, and that’s sort of my fantasy world.

So, good times in Finland, you could say. I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, I’ll try and console myself with France.

A bientôt!

Michelle

We “brunched” in la Croix Rousse. I use inverted commas for its questionable brunch status (see figure 1.1):

Scrambled eggs, pancakes, fruit, salad, yoghurt, cheese. French people are confused about brunch. But it was brunch nonetheless! Here I am having tea:

And here is Sabra, la magnifique:

The café where we brunched was actually adorable. BEYOND adorable. And sooo retrooooo you guys.

Obligatory post-feminist discourse outfit shots in the retro café:

We went vintage shopping at Carrie Bradshop: a marvellous vintage boutique on Rue Romarin in the 1er. Most importantly, the name. It was a glorious explosion of costume jewellery and retro frocks. We played for awhile!

We also visited Le Cabinet des Curieuses, which is just so-so fabulous. I think I’ll write an entire post on this boutique of dreams, practically next door to Carrie Bradshop. The lovely X’tatix Doll keeps shop, attending to all your reproduction vintage and vintage lingerie needs. Looooove! Some photos to come another day, but in the meantime, look at this EXTRAVAGANT boudoir robe I swanned around in for awhile. It’s sort of to die for.

[Update: if you're interested in the fabulous robe, it's a unique piece by Melle Théo Legrand, who you can totally look up here].

C’est tout pour aujourd’hui. I am so content to have made the acquaintance of Sabra. Meeting hybrid vintage/feminist types always gives me so much joy. And there will be more Sabra shenanigans in 2013! I’m off to Paris in April to see her perform at a festival of burlesque as The Blueberry Pie, and there will be visits in between.

So much love for the blogosphere. If you’re a blogger in France, or anywhere nearby, let’s have tea! It will be magical.

Gros bisous de Lyon,

Michelle

I’m at university, je suis à la fac! Last week there was orientation, tomorrow I start classes. Actually. The campus of Lyon II is ridiculously pretty, and even though I actually have most of my classes in the ugly buildings, I get to glimpse all the grand lecture theatres and elaborate stairwells every now and then.

The classes I’m taking are super-cool. I’ll be doing literature and translation and gender studies, mmm. I’m most excited about my gender/language class, on the gendered grammar of French language. It gives me little francophile feminist flutters. I’ll also be reading some eighteenth century French literature, L’Etranger, Virginia Woolf and all manner of wonderful things. And everything will be in French, bien sûr. Many happy sighs!

Here is the pretty part of Lyon II, covered in snow no less.

Some exciting blog updates to come. I spent Saturday with the lovely Sabra The Blueberry Pie, a burlesque girl who shares my twins passions of vintage and feminism. Many splendid pictures were taken. Also this week I’m visiting Riikka of Harlean’s Heyday in Finland, to attend the Vapriikki-Vintage weekend, and meet the Fintage crowd. All the things!

A bientôt !

Michelle

I’m in La Croix Rousse right now, still searching for somewhere to live. I’m consumed with apartment-searching, spending hours on the internet, making brave phone calls to real estate agents, making visits. It’s sort of frustrating not having somewhere to live, but it’s also sort of beautiful up here where I am. This is the view of Lyon as you walk down the grand hill towards the centre of town:

It’s cold en ce moment, but oh, the fashions. Here I am swanning about the hotel lobby where every morning I ask to extend my stay just another night, and can I please have another wifi code? Merci.

FASHION.

I’ve had some lovely hot beverages with Sydney people: welcome reprieve from all the French-speaking. I went to this adorable café with Heather, who’s here to study at the same university. The café was decorated with vintage bric-à-brac, and played 1940s music. Sigh!

I also managed a rendezvous with Alex, a fellow Darcy Society devotee back in Sydney who has just finished a semester here in Lyon. We sought out some French Jane Austen, because one should always seek out Jane Austen.

Yesterday I also walked through my university. It’s so preeeeeetty.

All that being out-and-about is tiring, so more often than not I retire in the early evening to eat French bread and do lazy google searches for apartments. Evidence of French bread:

Things will be even more lovely once I find somewhere to live. I’m having intense nesting urges, and can’t wait to have a place to hang all my frocks. There will also be French cooking. Much French cooking.

I’m off to look at apartments this afternoon (quelle surprise), so à bientôt, and bonne journée. Gros bisous de Lyon.

Michelle

This morning I bought a pain au chocolat, then went walking for like four hours. Here’s my morning selfie, as I walked down to centre-ville from La Croix Rousse:

I walked halfway up these stairs, then decided against it, because look at this ridiculousness:

When I wasn’t walking, I was eating. France = food. When I arrived last night I went straight to Monoprix and ogled the cheese aisle. Look, fromage!

And finally, for some fashion. It feels so good to be back in Winter clothes. I left Sydney just before the heat wave, and I’m luxuriating in the five-degree air with sweaters and stockings. Here’s a little outfit selfie for the day, direct to you from my shocking pink hotel room:

My little legs are tired from all the exploring today, so I’m just going to lie in bed now, eat some quiche and watch French TV. Gros bisous from Lyon, wish me luck with the apartment search.

Michelle

The festive season hath ended, and now I’m packing up all my capelets ready to move to France for six months. I’ll be studying in Lyon for a semester, drinking lots of red wine and speaking French in a little high-pitched voice. Visa troubles aside, I’m actually ludicrously excited. I will miss Sydney for all the brunching, and my people. But France!

I’ll miss my frocks too. I’m waging war on minimalism as I pack frivolous thing after frivolous thing, but ugh choices! How can I go six months without my red tartan hooded cape coat? I can’t, obviously. My third cousin Vicky is family legend for her declaration that she could travel with “nothing but two pairs of trousers and seven jackets”. I think I inherited some of her ridiculousness.

In my final days here, I’m making use of my wardrobe while I still can. So voila, my frock of the day. It’s a 50s day dress I bought for a pittance in Amsterdam. It’s so beautiful, and fits me so perfectly I could hardly believe it. Of course I wore a capelet too, because I’m never without capelet.

50s frock Amsterdam | capelet DIY

Soon there will be French fashions, ooh la la. A toute à l’heure !

Michelle

This is a lolita-style nautical number: sort of doll-like and sort of adorable. The back of the dress is ACTUALLY to die for, I can’t even take it. I had the good fortune of finding it in Gallery Serpentine, Sydney’s go-to goth boutique which happens to dabble in lolita and rockabilly. Just look at it, ugh.

Never, ever too much nautical. Back with more soon, I daresay.

Michelle