Docs Forever
I rarely visit vintage shops that aren’t online, mostly because there is only one in my town, she keeps random hours (and not too many of them for that matter), and most of my time is spent working on my own vintage shop. But, of course, it is always worthwhile to go see what other bits of vintage gorgeousness exist out in the world, and to do so in person. That way I can feel the textures of the materials I am looking at and even use my nose to try and sniff out a bit of the garment’s history.
It took me about one second to fall completely in love with this dress. It is so soft and cozy, and the satin lining feels heavenly when it’s coming down over my head and onto my body. The smell offered me no information (which can be a good thing), but oh! the visual glory of the piece more than satisfied my sensual craving for beauty.
The owner of the shop informed me that it was, as it appears, a piece from the 1970s. I have an absolute weakness for 70s clothing that, paired with my devastating adoration of combinations of shades of orange and brown, lead me to declare this my favorite dress in the world. Throw in my love of little jumper dresses, and I’m sure I’ve found a life long lover in this piece.
This week we added the most spectacular, well constructed, breathtakingly gorgeous, and absolutely one-of-a-kind piece to our shop. Behold:
We debated for a while about whether or not one of us should keep it (and if so, which one?) or if we should indeed make it available to the world. As you know, we chose the latter, though there’s no saying one of us won’t take it down off the site in a fit of passionate jealousy at the thought of its loving embrace coddling another in its draping warmth.
And warm it truly is. Not only because of the exquisite Irish lamb’s wool that it’s made from, but the vibe of the colors also serve to invigorate a cold body and sluggish state of mind. And of course the pockets are there for added comfort and warmth.
And did I mention that it’s all lined in silky satin? Of course it is, a piece like this would be made of nothing less.
The labels on this one tell a fabulous story:
First, a gorgeous label with the cutest cartoon of Boru, High King of Ireland, reading :
"Made in the Republic of Ireland/ Boru/ By Jimmy Hourihan of Dublin".
Next, a label detailing the cape’s origins: "Donegal Handwoven Tweed, Made from pure new wool from County Donegal". Donegal Wool is some of the finest in the world. But it doesn’t normally come in such unusual colors as this!