For a good while now, I have been the subject of some considerable harassment from a friend with an idea in her head. Angie Voluti is glamorous, charming, opinionated, wilful, deals with highly-powered and stunningly beautiful things – and people – on a daily basis and has correspondingly lofty ideals when it comes to clothing. She wanted a coat, knew what she wanted (in velvet) and was determined that I should be the one to make it. I have been, not to put too fine a point on it, badgered relentlessly for months. Nay, probably years. I have steadfastly refused. She has – equally tenaciously – refused to let it drop.
Obviously, neither of us caved in…
Here is the first in a series of guest posts from La Voluti, in which she tells her side of The Adventure. I do, of course, get to tell it from my perspective but it’s Angie’s turn first…
‘The Beautiful Coat’s Adventure started in my mind. I wanted something that would hug and hold, wrap and isolate. Elegant but not stiff, with a whiff of eccentricity but without the full gothic regalia. Beautiful Coat must be out there, I thought.
I cyber-fingered pages and pages of of images with impossibly thin Chinese girls wearing short, Russian-style coats in plastic colours. Walked in and out of high street shops, chains, superstores and small vintage outlets smelling of old papers and incontinent memories. Too small. Too big. A tent round the waist or too tight around my breasts. Not a straight line, no. Nor an extravagant collar. No, no hood, thanks. No plastic buttons. Nope, that would suit my grandmother. You kidding? This is for ex-strippers who can’t let go of the sequin.
I came and knocked on Wednesday March’s door. The March Hare answered. We spoke the same language.
“Go away. I don’t do velvet. You want a coat, not a dressing-up costume.”
“Now you’re talking.”
The Adventure started from there.’
20 January 2016