The Great Cropped Debate

She could wear no wrong...

About this time of year, every year, we see cropped pants for sale. No one ever declares "This is The Year of the Cropped", but every spring, like mosquitoes in Texas, they come back. As if finding pants weren't hard enough, what exactly is meant by cropped only adds to the dilemma.

Fall and winter cropped pants are a novelty, usually shown with tall boots or boots and tights, so never a broken line. In summer your actual legs come into play. While cropped pants easily flatter long limbs, the rest of us can wear them too. The trick is the ratio of length to width to limb. Simple, like trigonometry.  

Another season, another look...

As with hemlines, the length of pants in favor at the moment may vary. And like hemlines today, there is no one "right" length. The length depends most on the cut of the pant itself, what the designer intended and what suits you best.

A quick recap on basic pants styles:

STRAIGHT-LEG: Straight-legs hang straight from the hip, which can result in a slightly fuller leg, more so if the pants are pleated. I know what you're thinking, but pleated pants are making a comeback. They should hang straight to the top of your foot. In other words, with no drape. 
BEST FOR: Everyone and those with legs thinner in proportion to torso

The classic menswear cut

WIDE-LEG: It's important to determine what shoes you will wear with wide-legs. They should be as long as possible without tripping you up—about 1/2" from the floor. The pants legs will be wide enough to hang straight with maybe a slight drape.
BEST FOR: Everyone and those with heavier thighs

Wide-leg but safe

PALAZZO: Palazzo pants are super wide and usually made from a soft, drapey fabric with a tendency to move as you do. One assumes you won't be a moving a lot in palazzos as they are more decorative than practical. As the recipient of a hairline fracture while wearing palazzo pants, I know what I'm talking about.
BEST FOR: Those who love to look dramatic and enjoy swanning about. In other words, an affectation no matter your physical characteristics

Dangerously wide

SKINNY-LEG: A skinny-leg pant stops just at or short of the ankle. They sometimes have a slit at the hem side seam for ease in putting on and taking off. A skinny-leg pant should be your choice when wearing an overblouse or tunic top.
BEST FOR: Those with slim legs and thighs

Now to harvest the crops...

Cardinal rule: For obvious reasons never depend on the photo of a model for what the pants length will look like on you. 

A CROPPED STRAIGHT-LEG at one time might be called clam diggers, self-explanatory if you are digging for shellfish—although I couldn't find one photo of someone wearing them while clamming.
BEST FOR: Everyone—a universally flattering cropped pant 

Clam diggers w/o the clams

 A CROPPED SKINNY-LEG was known as pedal pushers or Capris back in the day. Today these are more likely just called "crops".
BEST FOR: Those with slim legs, thighs AND ankles

Stylishly pushing those pedals

WIDE-LEG CROPS are the trickiest to get right. The best rule-of-thumb is a wide-leg crop should fall slighter above your ankle, otherwise you will look like you are suspended by toothpicks. This is, obviously, tricky to determine without trying them on.
BEST FOR: Everyone, including petites, and those with heavier thighs. 

 

Wide-leg crops

Shorter than that and wide-leg crops become culottes. They can even be as wide as palazzo pants. Culottes are more often out of fashion than in, which is probably a good thing.
BEST FOR: Those who don't give a damn but not petites

Most unflattering pant ever?

Shorts are not cropped pants. They have their own criteria, but since I no longer wear them I don't care.

Not pants here

Petites do have one advantage over others: If you are 5'4" or under and adamantly don't want a cropped pant, but you like everything else, try the same pant in its "regular" option. You may have to go down a size for the best fit, but nobody minds doing that, right?

I Laughed When I Saw This...

...but then I didn't. 

The jelly (pliable plastic) sandal by Chloe that I saw in a recent Harper's Bazaar sells for $590. I laughed, not only at the price, but because it seems to be more foot than shoe.

Of course I had to right away search whether anyone's knocked it off yet, and of course they have. And if I must admit, the cheaper version looks more graceful.

This, by Jeffrey Campbell, is $60.

They both come in a few standard jelly colors, although the Chloe version is more translucent.

Which would you rather buy? Neither? Me too.

 

 

Cheers to the Future of Shopping?

Neiman's Bubbly Vending Machine

Saks Fifth Avenue bought the ailing Neiman Marcus in December 2024 and immediately closed the flagship store in downtown Dallas. This sent shock waves through Texas, which, as you know, is a very big state. It's not like there was much business. Shoppers prefer the Neiman's in North Park Center, Dallas' biggest and most upscale retail destination. 

Here in Houston there has not been a department store downtown since the mid-priced Foley's closed in 2013 (after becoming a Macy's in 2006). Ironically that Foley's was the last downtown American department store built from the ground up (1947).

Worthy of its own postcard

There are still 35 Neiman Marcus locations nationwide, and one is in Houston's Galleria Mall. I went there on Saturday for lunch. Neiman's still has a restaurant, "Mariposa", on the third floor, tucked between Better Sportswear and Children's Wear. My friend and I both grew up with mothers who loved nothing more than a nice department store lunch, often with their daughters in tow. Our mothers didn't know each other, but we suspect they would have been friends as well.

On the first floor, heading to the escalator, I passed a Moet & Chandon vending machine dispensing splits of Brut ($27) and Rose´ ($35), maximum 2 bottles per person, must be consumed on premises. I didn't see glasses, but I presume they would somehow be dispensed. I can't imagine they would be dispensed with.

On the second floor landing was a more conventionally stocked bar, the vending achieved by an associate. 

It's pretty clear what is happening here.

Many moons ago, when I worked at Nordstrom in this same mall, there were exclusive evening shopping hours for their high rollers. Entry was by invitation only, soft music permeated the store from the in-house pianist, complimentary hot and cold hors d'oeuvres were passed by uniformed waiters as was gratis liquor. The later the hour, the more had been consumed and imbibed, the greater the sales. I was told the sound of cash registers ca-ching-ing may have drowned out the piano.

I was never assigned to sell on those nights. Nordstrom associates worked on commission, and there were high rollers in that group too. But I often worked the next day or days after. That's when the returns came in. Buyer's remorse. Most likely very relaxed, slightly blitzed buyers.

Of course the booze makes you linger longer and open your pocketbook wider. Neiman's is making you pay for the booze, but the idea's the same.

The retail world has been waiting to see how Saks will navigate Neiman's recovery and how they will deal with malls, such as Houston's, where there is also a Saks. A former Neiman's executive doesn't think it makes sense to have both “unless you’re going to push one more toward accessible luxury and one toward pure luxury.”  

So what's the definition of accessible luxury, and what's pure luxury??? A question for another time...

Vintage Shopping: The Future is Now

There are many reasons to shop Vintage aka Pre-loved aka Thrifted. It's always been right for:

> Those who love the thrill of the hunt

> Those who appreciate the styles/construction/fabrics of the past

> Those who love to snag a bargain or a "find"

> Those who pursue a unique style all their own

Shopping Vintage has other benefits as well, not the least of which are:

> To counter over population in your closet due to the rise of fast-fashion shopping and its highly disposable garments. Besides, too much choice can be paralyzing.

> To save the world from what to do with all that unwanted donated apparel

A sobering dead end

> To fight the rising cost of clothing, which, especially with the uncertainty of tariffs, is likely to continue     

> As part of the decision to buy nothing. It doesn't seem as wrong to give a new home to something as opposed to encouraging fast fashion to get even faster. 

> Realizing you really don't need anything but as an inveterate shopper do need to scratch that itch. It's both the thrill of the hunt AND unearthing the treasure.  

Jane Fonda, at age 83 was quoted as saying she wasn't going to buy any more clothing.  She said she was still wearing clothes she bought 30 years ago in multiples because her then-husband Ted Turner had many residences. She's 87 now; I wonder if she's kept that promise. 

Jane Fonda has all she needs

Vintage is a term that has loose definitions. An antique piece of furniture, for instance, needs to be 100 years old to be considered antique. "Vintage" denotes anything more than 20 but less than 100 years old. "Retro" fills the gap at less than 20 years. 

You can see for yourself how those don't necessarily apply to clothing. Retro can be a designer's term for bringing back the '70s while a consignment store will call the original piece Vintage. Wearable clothing never seems to be labeled Antique either. Great Grandma's Edwardian wedding dress, over 100 years old, is still Vintage.

To further confuse things, "Vintage" has become the acceptable term for anything pre-worn (or "pre-loved") as opposed to being called "used" or "second-hand". Goodwill and the Salvation Army don't bother with these distinctions, but shopping them is usually to look for something Vintage—better in quality than the usual. 

For the sake of convenience I'll just be calling all this stuff vintage.

* * * 

Personally I've only tip-toed into vintage shopping. Here in Houston there are dozens of re-sale shops where the Young & Restless can drop off or exchange their (mostly fast) fashions for cash or more of the same. My favorite among them did have a client just my size with a Marc Jacobs obsession, but she seems to have moved on (as has he). More and more these kinds of places are bringing in new, cheap stuff to add to the old cheap stuff. So buyer beware. There are a very few quality vintage shops, but they tend to feature old St.John knits and massively sequined, heavily shouldered party dresses. 

So I am going to defer to my very experienced friend, Diane O. She has the advantage of living in New York City. Not only are there women galore who love fashion, New Yorkers have notoriously small closets. Thus the constant trek to unload and repurchase. Through trial and error Diane has figured out what works for her and along the way has compiled a hefty roster of tips how to play—and win—at vintage shopping.

 

AllWays in Fashion: How did you get started vintage shopping?

Diane O: I noticed that more and more vintage and secondhand stores were opening near me, and I was curious! After a while (and a lot of bad choices), I started to learn how to identify a keeper. I haven't sprung for high-end, three-figure vintage, but you can stay under that and find some real treasures.

 

AWIF: What were some of your best buys?

DO: The Issey Miyake crinkled turtleneck in a beautiful clear blue, which is timeless. The '70s men's fitted shirt in a print I think of as "disco Christmas"—the ideal holiday party shirt. The Liberty print I had tailored to fit. And my favorite before/after: the patterned ski sweater with two buttons missing and a mismatched one hanging by a thread (I replaced the whole set with new metal buttons).

 

AWIF: And the worst?

D.O: Probably pants. They're hard to fit under any circumstances, and if you find them in a secondhand store, they may be dated-looking. Some, I've found out the hard way, are beyond alterations. If you have to basically re-cut a pant, it's not worth it.

 

AWIF: What are you always looking for?

D.O: An interesting top. 

AWIF: What will you never buy?

D.O: Shoes. A little too much personal contact for me!

 

AWIF: How do you style a vintage piece with what you already own?

D.O: Let the piece be the standout—if it's very distinctive, don't wear anything that competes with it. And if it's clearly an old style like my disco shirt, keep the rest of your outfit modern. Head-to-toes '70s looks like you're going to a theme party, and you never want to be that literal.

 

AWIF: What else would you like the world to know:

D.O: Not every trip will be productive; most aren't. But they do train your eye. Once you find stores you like and learn to be selective, you'll go home with more winners. 

D.O in "Disco Christmas"

 

A little caution goes a long way, and Diane O. has also identified some things to watch out for when shopping for vintage:

 

> Don't succumb to nostalgia for "when clothes were good".

 

> Don't be seduced by a label or beautiful fabric. That won't matter if it doesn't fit or you don't need it.

 

> Be wary of styles that don't really pair well with modern clothes. "We've moved on and you risk looking clueless".

 

> Run, don't walk away, from anything that reminds you of something you once loved. "Your body has changed, a lot of that stuff was too prissy; some things are actually better/easier in current versions, like pants with Lycra".

 

> Say no to a one-off that might be a gem but will go with nothing you own.  The idea is not to then have to go shopping for something to make it work!

> Be wary of the "feeling that you have to go home with something to reward yourself for the effort of searching." Instead, buy yourself a bouquet of flowers or stop in a lovely coffee shop for a treat or pick up that new best-seller.

 

> Don't let the price overtake you. "You can't go wrong? Yes, you can".

 

> If you have to justify the purchase with an explanation of its backstory or where you found it, think again. "Your outfit shouldn't need a caption".

 

> If you know it "probably won't work, but you're going to make it work, dammit", just calm down. "No tailor is that good".

 

> Since we all learn by our mistakes, you're going to make some and get wiser. But never let any mistake hang in the closet to taunt you.

 

* * * 

 

We both agree that "the more attractive the shop the more pleasant the experience". Neither one of us will shovel through massive piles, and we are both discouraged by finding too many lemons. The nicer things are displayed, the more one feels they are in a "real shop", and the more inclined we are to spend time there.

 

Su'juk (top) and City Opera Thrift, two NYC faves

 

 

Fine and Dandy

Janelle Monae disguised as a suit for the Met Gala

"Superfine: Tailoring Black Style" is the latest excuse for holding a Met Gala. If that seems a bit harsh I will admit to wondering if that affair is Fashion or Entertainment. The intent of the exhibit itself is to interpret "the concept of dandyism as both an aesthetic and a strategy that allowed for new social and political possibilities" in the Black community. Those are big words for a term that historically had a different definition. I'm thinking the "dandy" as referring to a male figure of fashion is different from the "dandy" the Met is showcasing.

So what is a dandy? From the late 18th into the 19th century a dandy was a man meticulously concerned, top to bottom, with his appearance and adherence to the latest fashions and styles. Being white, wealthy and male were prerequisites. This dandy didn't just "dress up" for the public; he wouldn't be caught, dead or otherwise, not looking splendiferous. Examples: Beau Brummel (the first dandy of note), Oscar Wilde, Lord Byron. 

Brummel, Byron, Wilde

In the 20th century the author Tom Wolfe took great pride in being a dandy. By then the look was anachronistic. Wolfe would choose items such as spats, a fedora or a cane that were long out of popular fashion. Wholehearted dandies like him are few.

Brummel, Byron, Wilde, Wolfe

The Met has woven together what looks like a gangbusters of a show of American Black fashion from the 19th century to today in a concept of twelve themes and featuring hundreds of garments, accessories, paintings, drawings and videos. This is the first Met Costume Institute show devoted entirely to men.

I love the example of this livery coat and waistcoat from 1840s. It was worn by an enslaved man on a Southern plantation and shows his owner's preoccupation with an ostentatious, dated form of displaying wealth. It pains me to think how humiliated the wearer must have felt. This would not have been his choice but his master's.

Dressing the part

In stark contrast are photographs of Frederic Douglas, the great orator, statesman and aboltionist. He knew how to get his point across. As one of the most photographed men of the 19th century he was aware how he looked and what he wore would be scrutinized. But did using the power of dress to influence make him a dandy? 

Frederick Douglass

The spirit of the late Andre Leon Talley permeates the galleries. Talley, close to Vogue editor Anna Wintour, was the magazine's fashion news director then creative director from 1983 to 1995. He was so much more—a figure of prominence from the disco days of the '70s until his death in 2022. He could surely be called a dandy in his youth. He developed the unique style of his later years as a solution for various weight and health problems. 

Talley, always unique

Although its official title is a mouthful and a bit vague, calling it about black dandies would be wrong. What and how you wear it signals loud and clear your hopes, dreams, aspirations and rebellions. Despite my dithering about definitions, the whole show sounds impressive, thought provoking and a must-see.

"Superfine: Tailoring Black Style" will be up at New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art through October 26.

 

Enter Mrs. Exeter

I've only just realized that "Mrs. Exeter", Vogue magazine's imaginary mature woman, was a play on  the title of Sergeant's painting, "Madame X". I've been reading about Mrs. Ex in "1950s in Vogue—The Jessica Daves Years" by Rebecca C. Tuite. 

Jessica Daves was the unsung editor of Vogue magazine from 1952-62, important years for American women and fashion in America. Mrs. Daves loved the name "Mrs. Exeter", and now I see why. Unlike Sargent's painting, notorious for its since-replaced slipped strap, Mrs. Exeter was the pinnacle of chic correctness.

"Madame X"

Mrs. Exeter was first introduced to Vogue readers in 1948. At the time Jessica Daves was "active editor". She would become editor-in-chief when Edna Woolman Chase retired in 1952. By that time Jessica was 58 and Edna 72. It makes sense they thought having a Mrs. Exeter was a smart move.

As I myself have certainly discovered, one doesn't stop loving fashion on a particular birthday. The target age Vogue chose for Mrs. Exeter was "approaching 60". In theory women that age have more time and money to spend on beauty and fashion—that may in fact have been true back then—and Jessica Daves was nothing if not conscious that Vogue was a business. The more readers it could connect with, the more advertisers would sign on. 

But I do feel Mrs. Exeter was a labor of love. Not only was she given the personality of the observant Mrs. Daves, she was enjoyed by all Vogue readers as the voice of that wiser, fashionable, big sister, aunt, parent, friend. 

Mrs. Exeter also appeared twice on the cover of American Vogue (one above left). British Vogue had their own Mrs. Exeter (right cover) often "played" by one model specifically recruited to fit the role. The American Mrs. Exeter began as illustration then morphed to photography. No one model assumed the role.

The British Mrs. Exeter

Quite a few "Mrs. Exeter" features showed her wearing Vogue Patterns, and I think I know why. Many women's magazines were also tied into sewing pattern companies (McCall's would be an obvious example). Conde Nast owned quite a few besides the Vogue brand. Magazines were beholden to run at least a few pattern features a year. As a reader and creator of my own wardrobe I loved when they did. Once I joined the staff of a fashion magazine myself, I saw the required pattern features were treated respectfully but with no real enthusiasm.

Early illustrated Mrs. Exeter

Photography and wise words from Mrs. Exeter

For Mrs. Exeter (or her seamstress)

Besides showing off her good taste in clothes, Mrs. Exeter penned a column that shared her musings. She was such a successful invention there was debate among Vogue readers whether in fact she wasn't a real person.

NB There didn't seem to be anything wrong with this in magazine circles. For many years the "Jake: A Man's Opinion" in Glamour was written by several men, none of them named Jake. At least they were men.

Looking, acting or being young were never goals of Mrs. Exeter's, who happily sported gray hair with her blessedly trim figure. When Diana Vreeland took over Vogue in 1962, Mrs. Exterer made her exit. No spring chicken herself (59 when she became editor in chief) Diana coined the term "youthquake" to describe what was happening in fashion and culture. We've been beholden to youth culture ever since. 

Vogue, July 1967

 

Forever the Ballerina

Degas loved to paint ballerinas. "The Red Shoes" unleashed a generation of wanna-bes. Audrey Hepburn found her heart's desire thwarted. Natalie Portman married the teacher.

Ballet has fascinated since its beginnings (around 1500 in Italy). The ballerina has become an ethereal, almost other-worldy creature, on display again in Amazon Prime's new miniseries, "Etoile", streaming April 24.

"Etoile" promises to be a potboiler of romance and workplace intrigue with beautiful locations, not to mention a gorgeous cast.

Once bitten little girls never get over the ballet bug. 

I saw "The Red Shoes" in 1948 (age 6) and begged my mother for ballet lessons for years. Never mind that "The Red Shoes" was a cautionary tale. I was far too young to understand the plot, but Moira Shearer was enchanting. Like all good performers she made it look easy. By the way, Moira Shearer was a dancer who had never acted when she took the role. 

Scenes from "The Red Shoes"

My mother wisely stalled on those ballet lessons as Gallumphing Gertie here would never have been successful. Undeterred I did take a few lessons at the Joffrey Ballet in NYC in the mid-'60s. They had open classes for $5 a session. Mr. Joffrey only took $10 from me. I realized it best to save my money for tickets to his wonderful productions. 

Scenes from "The Secret People"

Audrey Hepburn might be the world's most successful unsuccessful ballerina. She studied ballet throughout her childhood despite the privations and dangers of WWII. Audrey grew too tall (5'8") for a conventional ballerina but found work as a cabaret dancer. In one of her early films, "The Secret People", she was a ballerina in training. Eventually she danced on film with the great Fred Astaire in "Funny Face". Ballet's loss was truly our gain.

Portman and Millepied in "Black Swan"

Natalie Portman met Benjamin Millepied on the set of 2010's "Black Swan" where he was the choreographer and one of the film's dancers. She prepared almost a year for her part as another doomed dancer. Millepied is a classically trained pro who later became director of the Paris Opera Ballet. They were married in 2012 and divorced in 2024.

Dancers lead impossibly disciplined lives. Their workouts are brutal and never-ending, diets restricted and stringent, lives outside the studio or off the stage limited at best. They are almost always in pain and live in constant fear of injury. But that doesn't take away from our fascination.

Just think about the fashion classics that have come to us from ballet:

BALLET SLIPPERS
(from the real deal to street style)

TULLE SKIRTS
(Giselle to Chanel)

LEOTARDS

(workout to going-out)

CHIGNONS

(OK so call it a bun)