Pin Noir · 2000s Black Satin Rose Corsage, O-JAY
Black poly cloth cabbage rose · bar pin · felt backing · OJAY · 2000s · approx. 12cm diameter
A black cabbage rose, large as a fist, made from iridescent cloth petals that hold their position exactly as you set them. The stem ends in a bar pin with a felt backing, and the whole thing has the particular density of a bloom that has been thought about. Black flowers carry something roses in other colours do not.
OJAY, 2000s. The corsage as a form predates this piece by about a century, but the 2000s brought a revival of the flower brooch as something intentional rather than ironic, pinned at the collar or lapel or shoulder with the same confidence as an antique cameo. A well-made fabric rose of this size and construction belongs to the tradition of millinery flowers, where craft workers spent whole days making individual petals from wired silk or organza, shading them by hand. This one is poly cloth and a 2000s manufacturer and yet it has the same intention: to put a flower where a person decides to put a flower, and that being enough of a reason.
The rose for someone who knows what they want to say when they walk in.
Care
Handle the petals with care to maintain their set. Store pinned to a cushion or box to protect the petals from crushing.
More on looking after vintage pieces in our care guide.
Size
Measured flat: Approx. 12cm diameter. Bar pin backing.
Our size guide explains how vintage sizing is read here.
Condition
Exhibition condition. No damage to petals, leaves, or stem. The bar pin mechanism is functional. The felt backing is clean and intact.
Our condition lexicon explains the grades we use.
Before it reaches you
Someone loved this before you did, and I try to honour that properly. Each piece is hand washed, or cleaned in the way that the fabric permits, then steamed until it softens and straightens and feels newly attended to. Wherever a button was missing, it has been replaced with a vintage one from my long-kept collection. Wherever a hem had given way, I fix it by hand. By the time it leaves this room it is genuinely clean, pressed, whole, and looked over one final time before I let myself believe it is ready. Not restored. Not made new. Just returned to a state where it can be loved again, by someone who was not there the first time.
A black rose is a small contradiction worn on purpose, a flower in the one colour flowers are not, which is precisely why it says more than a red one ever could. Its petals hold whatever position you set them in and keep it all night, so the bloom arrives already having decided how it feels. Pin it to a collar, a lapel, a shoulder, a hat, and the rule stays the same: a flower goes where a person decides a flower goes, and that decision is the whole of the reason. It never wilts, on the grounds that it was never quite alive, only extremely certain.