Olga's Retro

Should you ever fall prey to an uncontrollable desire of crocodile leather (surely one of life's more offbeat but underestimated hazards), there is always the option of visiting Olga's Retro in Gent.

In fact, you should go even if you don't have a particular longing for reptile skin, if only because there never was a true Gantoise like Olga. She represents everything I associate with characteristic Gent personalities: stern at first sight, but with a heart of gold, and quite a mouth on them. It's hard not to like Olga - she's a firecracker. On top of that, vintage clothing really is her passion. She opened the store when she was 58. Takes some guts, right?

The shop is tiny, but well stocked. There's an array of clothing, but Olga focuses on purses, shoes and coats. She has a steady supply of high quality leather goods, and I have to say, we found some magnificent purses during our hunt. Among them was a beautiful and impeccable crocodile bag for - if I remember this well - 500 euros. A small fortune, yes, but not compared to the thousands and thousands of euros you'll pay for a new one.

You'll find a lot of vintage brands here (Delvaux especially). Olga told us some purses are sold within a few hours of their arrival, so if you've really got your mind set on something, I would check back from time to time. And if you're worried about overspending, Olga will no doubt mollify your mind:

About the most sympathetic shop in Brussels

Do you have a friend who is so good-hearted, kind and mirthful you could not imagine anyone disliking them? One of those charming people who never cease to be joyful, except when they're angry, which they never seem to be without good sense and reason? For my part, I can think of maybe 2 or 3 people close to me who would fit that description. Flawless as they are, they're one of the grand mysteries of life. They're a bit like modern Jesuses. (Jesi?) You'd rather swallow a Nuremberg Chronicle in its entirety than intentionally upset them.

If by now you're thinking I'm trying to proselytize with all this religious chatter, don't worry. I'm not a very pious type of person. If Dante was even remotely on to something, the 6th circle of Hell is where I'll be spending my afterlife:

(Steam baths, alright! I can't wait.)

No, I'm merely expressing - in a clumsy metaphorical manner - my enchantment with LOwi, a shop in Brussels that is roughly the retail equivalent of the type of person mentioned above. LOwi is a relatively new store. The first time I visited was a few months ago at the occasion of the Modo Parcours. I mostly remember being enthralled by one of their beautifully crafted satchels.

The clothes left an impression as well. The selection (both for men and women) is small, but very nice. The brands (mostly Scandinavian) aren't your run of the mill standard names - you'll have a hard time finding them anywhere else in Brussels. The styles range from down to earth to classic to whimsical to sophisticated- whatever is to the owners' liking, basically. This might sound like utter style anarchy, but it all works great together.

I went to check out the sales at LOwi on my lunch break last week. Accessories and new selection excluded, everything was 30% off. (A small rack went up to 50%.) I found two beautiful woollen sweaters, one of them made by Mads Norgaard and knitted in Denmark, one of them from Maria Westerlind, a Swedish line that will soon be discontinued. It didn't carry a label of origin, so I asked the owner, Wietse, whether he knew where it was made. He deduced it was probably made in Portugal, which made it a-okay to me. I've barely taken it off since, it's so warm and soft and comfortable.

I explained Wietse my goal for 2012 and we had a great chat. I was glad to hear they get more and more customers with similar demands, and even more glad to learn that LOwi barely sells any brands that produce outside of Europe. While we were talking, I was once again mesmerized by the handbag that had caught my eye all those months ago. I asked where it was from, and he told me it was by Hester Van Eeghen, a Dutch designer. All of her work is designed in Holland and handcrafted in Milan. (I'll probably do a separate post on her somewhere in the future.)

I yielded. I've been on the lookout for a new bag, because I only have one right now. I love it, but it's not large enough to carry work documents. On top of that, I'm afraid it will wear out too quickly because I carry too much weight - my bags usually have a lifespan of 6 months. A vintage book satchel aside, my Sessùn bag was first real leather bag ever, and I'd like it to last. The Hester van Eeghen-satchel was designed to hold a laptop, so as far as size goes, it's perfect. It's sturdy, but dainty at the same time, thanks to its girly colours.

The bag wasn't on sale, but I still got a small discount, which I thought was a beautiful gesture. I sincerely think no one could wish for a better service than the one you get at LOwi. They're kind, humorous and most important of all: genuine. You're not just another number here. For example: I told Wietse my friend Eva (hi Eva!) bought a French Connection dress from them a little while ago. Not only did he remember her, he also recalled the friend accompanying her (hi Goele!), and when she was planning to wear the dress. Maybe it's just the workings of a good memory, but I'd rather think it's a sign of an authentic congenial approach to retail. One thing's certain: LOwi is sure of my affections.

Gent: No pause button, just Rewind

One of the things I used to love most about living in Gent was that everything was so incredibly nearby. Friends, university auditoria, cafés, 3 cinemas: all in walking distance. I never replaced my bike after it was stolen (the thief was considerate enough to leave my front wheel) in my second year at university - I had time in abundance and was walking everywhere anyway. Shopping for groceries was never just schlepping around with overstuffed bags. It was an excellent opportunity for bumping into friends and window shopping. I must have passed Rewind in the St Pietersnieuwstraat at least one time a day during the years I lived in one of the streets behind it, and went in countless times.

I never bought anything there, partly because I deemed it just a bit too expensive at the time, partly because sizes are a bit too small, but I have quite a few girlfriends who don't mind paying full price here. Do you remember the look on Abu's face seeing that giant ruby in the Cave of Wonders? Eyes all big and sparkly? That's exactly how you should imagine the faces of innocent girls walking into Rewind. In case you need a reminder:

Picture via, uh, here. I bumped into a nauseating hentai version of Aladdin on my search for this picture. Is NOTHING sacred to you, internet?

The window display is sometimes basic, sometimes a little funky. It mirrors the clothes very well: mostly sober, but very smart. Modern minimalism and all that jazz. If you're into Scandinavian style, you don't want to miss Rewind. Since they stock lots of indie brands, it's a great place to discover some new names. For instance, this is where I discovered the beautiful French label Sessùn:

The clothes differ in style (they go from plaid shirtdresses to gold sequined tops; romantic to edgy) but they're all designed with a similar aesthetic vision: slightly different from what you would expect, a lot of natural fibers and all round high quality. As for personnel, it's always the same guy behind the counter (some fashionable girls I've encountered over the years aside). He's really friendly and always ready to provide explanation or advice. Kind of the gay best friend you'd always like to accompany you on shopping trips.

Plus sizes won't easily find something here, but Rewind also sells a selection of books, music and some great accessories. It might not be extensive and fast-moving enough to qualify as a concept store, but it comes pretty close. Maybe you should see it as a nice compromise between a more classic boutique and a concept store: innovative without being too overwhelming.

Coups de foudre in Brussels and Bologna

I had this really thoughtful and well considered plan for my winter wardrobe: I was going to buy a tartan/check blouse, a duffle coat, jeans and warm boots. I even made a polyvore set out of it, just to remind myself that this was the plan and I should stick to it:

I don't know how I did it, but the past two days I spent almost my entire november clothing budget on totally different objects. The first one was a bracelet, bought at Mapp. friday night. They were part of the Modo Parcours. We only did the rue Léon Lepage/Léon Lepagestraat, and some stores in the Rue de Flandre/Vlaamse Steenweg. There was a lot to be seen - and drunk, mostly champagne. Martin Margiela served theirs in plastic cups. Not that I mind a bit of tackiness, but still a weird choice, considering the cheaper stores did make an effort to, you know, rent glasses. Maybe it was a postmodern statement and I totally missed the point. I have the impression Léon Lepage is quickly becoming the new Dansaert, by the way. The latter is being invaded by more known brands and the former is buzzing with hip and young designers. I'll do some reviews on them later on, but this post is going to be long enough as it is.

I liked the clothing selection in Mapp., but the accessories were what really caught my eye. The selection of necklaces especially was great. Expensive, of course, but absolutely beautiful. Then my eye fell on this bracelet: simple, romantic, in sale. Just the way I love my jewelry.

It's by Médecine Douce Paris. Quite expensive, but it was a typical coup de foudre. Half my wardrobe consists of coups de foudre, now that I think of it. Trying to combine things is always a disaster. I have zero vision when it comes to buying clothing, but it doesn't stop me from sitting in front of my closet, happily eyeing all of my darlings. Kind of how I imagine Anna Dello Russo spending her days when she's not causing a ruckus at fashion weeks.

I spent the rest of my money on shoes yesterday. I'm currently in Bologna, visiting my boyfriend, who got a grant to study and do research here for a year. He told me upon his arrival that it was a great city for shopping, and I have to say, he has an eye for these things. The coolest thing about Bologna is that there's not really sidewalks, but porticos. Wikipedia tells me the city is famous for it:

In total, there are over 45 kilometres of arcades, some 38 in the city center. The longest portico in the world, about 3.5 km (2 mi), extends from the edge of the city to Sanctuary of the Madonna di San Luca.

(We're planning on walking to the sanctuary tuesday, even though I was practical enough not to bring any proper walking shoes.) The effect is lovely. This is what shopping in Bologna looks like:

Charming, isn't it? Just out of sight are two old ladies who took offense in my boyfriend's bag being in their way and bumping into him in the rudest way possible. Feisty.

Shopping seems to be a big part of life here. It's food - clothing - bars - book shops everywhere you look. Aimed to please ladies of leisure from all over the world! The shops are really cool, too, not the thirteen in a dozen you'll usually find in cities this size. In a short walk around the city we managed to pass by a myriad of independent perfumeries (one of which was called Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, you have to appreciate the morbid sense of humour), a Muji, lots of jewelry stores, a Borsalino outlet, unaffordable luxury, ... The best thing about Bologna are the shoe shops, though. A wide selection, okay prices and great quality. When I saw this pair of United Nude in Daniele Ancarani in the Via San Vitale, I couldn't resist:

The picture doesn't quite capture them, but they're lovely and really comfortable. I walked 3km in them earlier and I don't feel a thing! The price was slightly lower than the online price, too. I did feel a bit stupid buying them, because I couldn't really chat with the shop assistant - who was excessively nice otherwise. She even managed to look classy while wearing grey sweatypants, which is a pretty impressive achievement in my book.

Some other pictures:

The Borsalino outlet. I wanted to try on a hat consisting of peacock feathers, but decided not to when I saw the price. I don't want to mess up an 800 euros hat. Also, I was under severe pressure by my boyfriend, who gets stressed by walking into a store and not buying anything. Pansy. :)

Fabulous ice cream just around the corner! I love how they make little flowers out of ice cream instead of scooping. A little gay, but pretty.

That's it for now. If anyone's got tips for Bologna, be it food or shopping, I'll be glad to hear them!

Pand 13: when Gent freezes over

The Voldersstraat/Henegouwenstraat is one of the more fancy shopping streets in Gent. Ample of designer bags, shoes and lingerie. It also houses Pand 13, a store I have a longtime love/hate-relationship with. Love because they really do have pretty things, hate because the prices are just too high. Love because the owners also exploit the lovely Tara Jarmon shop around the corner. Hate because the atmosphere can be a bit snobby. Love because of the beautiful interior (the floor!). Hate because I once tried on the most beautiful See By Chloé-dress there, but didn't have the funds for it. So I waited until the sales, only to find it gone quicker than you can say 'girl on a budget'. It was way over the top (purple with red polka dots and a huge bow on the front), but perfect in every way. If you ever spot one (L, please), make sure to tell me! Or even better, buy it and sell it to me. You can overcharge me, I won't mind. I'm a philanthropist that way.

I was in Pand 13 about two weeks ago, on my search for the perfect tartan blouse. Sadly I didn't find anything of the sort - they had tartan, beautiful interpretations even, but not in the right cut and shape. This is a serieus con (disadvantage? synoniem?) of going shopping with something in mind. I'm trying to shop more thoughtful, with certain looks and combinations in mind. You know, like fashion magazines are always telling you to do, inspired by Françaises and their 5 pieces per season-rule (I've never in my life met a Française who actually lives by this rule. Have you?) The thing is, when I go shopping with a clear goal, I always end up disappointed, because nothing looked even remotely to what I was looking for. Or worse, I did find what I wanted, but my size completely sold out. Cue for a cranky mood, need for hot chocolate and the urge to watch Gilmore Girls in bed. Woe and disaster.

I'll tell you what Pand 13 did have: some salespeople with a hell of an attitude. I was greeted by a twentysomething upon entering. She was nice enough, but seemed busy doing nothing, wandering from here to there, not really assisting anyone. Made me think of a bee that tries to get out of a room, but keeps on bumping against the window. Someone else was helping a few women who were trying on stuff. It was saturday and relatively busy. When I got to the second part of the store (they recently expanded) however, two older shop assistants were just standing there, gossiping. They hushed up when I came in and started whispering while I browsed through the clothes. I hesitantly smiled to one of them, wary of their sour faces. The kind of face you would expect on an old librarian when you bring back your overdue books, you know? Stern, with an air of dissapproval. The smile I got back could have easily frozen a middle sized equatorial country. I can still hear the theeth clappering. It was ice age, baby. Scrat would NOT have put up with this.

I don't need any handholding when I shop, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate a basic level of politeness. I didn't feel like putting up with their Evil Eye (and even if I did, I would be cheaper off watching some Lord of the Rings), so I picked up my acorn and left. I've been to Pand 13 many times before, and sometimes the staff is nice and sympathetic, sometimes they're, well, not. I suppose they don't get the easiest public, though, lots of bon chic bon genre, so maybe that explains some of it. It's strange though, because the staff in Tara Jarmon is always excessively nice, even though I've never bought anything there. Same boss, different HR? Weird.

To sum it all up:

- not the steadiest level of service
- a bit of a conservative selection, but pretty clothing: ranging from classic basics (LBD's) to romantic stuff (lots of silk and chiffon) to young and colourful.
- targeted to women in their twenties/thirties (Paule Ka, See by Chloé, ...)
- not the cheapest: it'll be hard to find anything under 50 euros here, but if you've got the dough, you'll find some excellent pieces to spend it on.



(Picture courtesy of http://www.afashiongirl.be/)

You never really know a city

The coolest thing about cities is the endless discovery options. I love the countryside (I've had my fair share of catching grashoppers and digging ponds), but someday I'd like to live in a city where you can easily go to a different bar or restaurant every day of the year, year after year, without reruns. I'd probably be overwhelmed by the choice and end up staying in every night, watching Twilight twice a week to connect with my angsty inner self (just the first one though, the others suck*), but still!

Brussels it's cool, but it's not up there with Berlin, Paris or London. I don't want to pretend I know Brussels through and through - I don't, really, there's neighbourhoods I've never even walked in. I do think I know the Dansaert area pretty well, however. I went to high school there, met up with friends many a time for drinks, eating and random stupidities and now I work just around the corner. And yet, even though I drank my first cosmopolitan (and many after that) in a great bar in the Rue des Chartreux/Kartuizersstraat, I somehow managed to completely neglect a cuter than cute store right at the end of it.

I'm talking about Valérie Berckmans' shop in the Rue Van Artevelde/Arteveldestraat, which I only discovered because the window display caught my eye when I accidentally got off the bus there. It's simple, minimalistic and colourful at the same time. This photo from Zone02 paints a clear picture:



The white cabinet you see is chock-full of shoes and accessories like gloves, buttons and clutches by Michael Guérisse O'Leary. The clutches especially were remarkable - colourful and refined, handmade apparently, but really not that expensive. 85 euros I think? Still a lot of money to most people, but considering the quality, it's a bargain. The buttons were nice, too, with original designs. They were priced between 4-12 euros.

As for the clothes, they feel like a grown up version of the Who's That Girl-style. Less crazy patterns, but the same casual retro feel. Simple, clear cuts; nice materials. They all felt very natural, my guess is you won't find anything too synthetic here. The prices were a bit steep, but some items were on sale and the discounts were great. Definitely inspiration material, even for those who can't afford it. By the way, you have to ring the bell to get in. Sounds a little snobby, but the owner is really nice and helpful, from what I witnessed. And for those who don't really care for Brussels or never get around to it: when I checked the website, I noticed that Twiggy in Gent, which I blogged about here, sells Valérie Berckmans' clothing as well.

Didn't buy anything but I'll probably go back for some buttons - they make the perfect little gift!



*(Okay, the first one sucks too, but you've got to give me something!)

Shoe shopping in Brussels: La Boutique de Mademoiselle François

I told you before that it took me a long time to get into shoes. Part of this is due to Brussels not being the best shoe shopping city. Not that there aren't any cool shoe shops around, it just takes a while to locate them. La Boutique de Mademoiselle François is an excellent example. It's a real gem, but it's a little out of the way. It's on the Verversstraat/Rue des Teinturiers, and Manneke Pis is only a stone's throw away. Still, I rarely see any tourists passing by. Maybe there's something in the guide books to keep them away. The street just around the corner is famous for its gay bars, and my savvy friend Stefan told me earlier today it's nicknamed 'Rue Vaseline'. Enlightening, right?

So maybe vast masses of people aren't keen on passing buy, but I bet the gays approve of Mademoiselle François' little empire. For my part, I was enthralled the first time I saw it. I had never seen such a romantic window display. Just five or six shoes, refined and precious, kept in a bell jar. (Whenever I see the words 'bell jar', I think of Sylvia Plath. I wonder if she would have kept from frying her brain in an oven, had she spent a little more time thinking about frivolities. Never underestimate the power of superficiality.)

It took me at least three more years to enter the store, because I figured the prices would be astronomical. When I started working for a decent wage last august, nothing kept me back, however. My first observation was that the store was just as pretty on the inside as the outside warranted. It's basically the fancy boudoir of a vintage maniac. If I ever were to open a candy store (a persistent childhood dream), this is what it would look like. Maybe not as much plastic legs sticking out of walls, but those are details. I wish I had some pictures of my own to share, but until I decide to invest in a camera, you can see some pictures here and here (old location, same atmosphere and props).

The shoes are pretty, good quality and they're actually priced pretty okay. They have a classic feel, and are mostly vintage inspired. I saw a few pieces today that looked like candy: very colourful, very cute. Not my immediate choice, but they made me smile. There's also a small selection of clothes. A few skirts, tops, and quite some dresses (15 or 20). Again very vintage-y, pretty fabrics and models. They look high quality, maybe even hand-made, I don't know. (Prices run pretty high: 250-350 euros.) But Betty Draper would approve, that's for sure.

I bought two pairs of shoes back in august: the most gorgeous black velvet heels and a pair of ballerinas with pointy toes that were so pretty they made me forget I don't really care for pointy toes. They were still on sale, and I think I paid a little less than 200 euros for both pairs. The lady at the counter (not the feisty owner Mlle François herself, unfortunately) even gave me 10 euros off on top of the discount, because I bought two pairs. I haven't worn the ballerinas all that much, and they still hurt my feet. But the heels. are just. so. comfortable. Wearing them feels like coming home. New shoes ALWAYS hurt, to the point where I think my feet will just go on strike and fall off. These heels don't. They hug my feet. I'm a little in love. So I feel honour-bound to share this with the world wide web. Your feet deserve it, really!

Shopping in Gent: Twiggy - new and improved

Twiggy used to be a beacon of style in what probably qualifies as the most hideous shopping-street in Gent: Langemunt. Not that it’s ugly – it’s actually quite pretty. It’s the connection between two very pretty squares (Groentemarkt and Vrijdagsmarkt), and it’s not dirty in the least. But it has zero personality. There’s no cool stores, just chains and a Swarovski shop. Bad pop musics blasts out of a sound system throughout the street. It’s a touchstone of banality. You only go there for cheap underwear or belly dancing-costumes in the hidden sex shop.

(I was looking for a picture of Red Hot, the shop I'm talking about, but unfortunately the only thing I found were pictures of Anthony Kiedis and a few dodgy images.)

Thank god for Twiggy, though. It functioned as a kind of lighthouse in these ordinary surroundings – a light, minimalist interior with lots of quirky corners and a beautiful collection of clothes. Nothing daring or edgy, let alone radically new, but always classy. They closed up about a year ago, announcing that they would relocate to a different building, bigger and better. When I was walking around in Gent a few weeks ago I almost accidentally bumped into the new and improved Twiggy, but I didn't have time to enter. So last saturday, embarking on a quest to find the perfect tartan blouse, I picked the Notarisstraat 3 as my starting point.

Can I tell you how much I love the new Twiggy? The owners secured a beautiful grand 19th century townhouse that I'd never really noticed before. It's located at one of the most pretty places in Gent (granted, Gent has a lot of those). It's just off the Vlaanderenstraat, a street conveniently hosting some great stores and a bakery with divine éclairs cafés. Needless to say I had to buy one to make sure my sugar dosage was up for the exploration. I anticipated it would take a me a while to browse through the building, and I was right. You definitely need to take a certain amount of time for walking around Twiggy, not in the least because it's got three levels. The basement - pretty cool, they just took out a whole floor and there's still a fireplace hanging in mid-air - is dedicated to men's clothes. (The selection looked nice, even though the boyfriend wasn't convinced.) The ground floor has the cash register and a few rooms that are beautifully laid out with mirrors, accessories, carefully composed racks.

The list of brands is quite exhaustive. Fans of Acne, Isabel Marant, Marc Jacobs and Paul Smith will definitely find something to their liking. There’s a lot of Belgians in there too: A.F. Vandevorst, Rue Blanche, Véronique Leroy, Just in Case, Le Fabuleux Marcel de Bruxelles, ... This all translates into a LOT of clothes, but the effect is never overbearing. You can just browse at ease, marvelling at the surroundings. When I first visited, the interior was still kind of rough - some walls weren't painted, and I wondered whether is was intentional or not. After all, I also saw some loose electric wires dangling from a ceiling upstairs. The wires are gone now, but the walls are still rugged. It looks pretty cool.

The second floor is more or less the same, but it's a bit larger than the first. Overall it's a very nice effect. Like walking in the house of a rich lady who decided to sell all her garments because she was tired of her life, so she just kept a safari-style hat and travelled off to Africa. Like an old version of Sofia Coppola. If there’s one thing you have to admit about Sofia, it’s that she’s got class, so that’s without a doubt a good thing. The only think I didn't like were the improvised dressing rooms. I don't think they even qualify as dressing rooms - they're just curtains in corners, with lots of gaps for people to stare through while you're in your underwear, struggling to fit into a complicated dress in a way too confined space. And of course it's laundry day, so your panties will be a bit colourless and saggy, with a sexy hint of butt-crack showing. Just kidding. That never happens to me. Hm. Anyway, that problem's solved, this is what the dressing rooms look like now:

Should you decide to check it out, you might just bump into me, because I plan to be a loyal customer. If you happen to catch a glimpse of a crazy lady with washed out underwear, it won’t be me though, because I’ll come prepared!