Growing up, I remember my mom had a dress that my grandfather had dubbed "The Explosion in a Paint Factory". I think she made it for a wedding in the 70's and it was tailored to fit her perfectly. For years it lived in our old dress-up trunk. I loved the intricacies of the design of the fabric - terrific bold colours with gold and sliver threads woven in. I remember sliding it on over my clothes, holding it up as I carried on (I think I usually transformed into a princess). My sister is almost ten years younger than I am and despite being a rather feisty tomboy as a child, got it in her head that she had to be Glinda The Good Witch for Halloween (we were all seriously obsessed with The Wizard of Oz). This is when "The Explosion in a Paint Factory" was quickly and cleverly remodeled by my mom - sliced and sewn into a magical gown for a three year old - wand and all. This has always remained a fond memory for me. A couple of years ago when I was on contract in Halifax, I stumbled upon this little number in a North End vintage shop. It instantly brought me back to my childhood and that whimsical dress. I had to have it and have now dubbed it "The Explosion in a Paint Factory II"
a fine way of living