How to Justify a Splurge...

We've all done it at various times: paid too much for something and either happily lived with it or admitted we made a mistake.

It's rare the splurge itself isn't fraught with machinations of justification, ranging from "I deserve this" to  "If I wear it four times a week for ten years it will cost nothing". Sometimes there is no hesitation and only regret. Think of a Mimosa-filled brunch with friends that ends with the group trolling through Saks Fifth Avenue and, well, you can guess what happens.

Sometimes the splurge does not justify itself immediately. I treasure an unusual, pricey dress by a designer no longer in business that I purchased almost 20 years ago. It's a style vaguely '20s but not really and can be tied several ways for different looks. It always answers the What shall I wear to this thing? question. At the time I was not so sure. I just knew it was love.

RIP Christopher Deane

Likewise the reverse. You may hold onto that white $ilk shirt for years before realizing you have never worn it. By then it's yellowed a bit and won't button at the waist. This is easy to get rid of because you can always blame the short life of 100% silk.   

There are splurges for good, such as when you have found The Perfect Something-or-Other. This is the purchase that will stop your ever looking for it again: the perfect handbag, the perfect cashmere cardigan, the perfect pair of jeans. You will only search again when it's falling apart, way too late to have bought a second "just in case". Invariably this is the most expensive version of what you seek. If it's not, you may still keep looking.

There is something wonderful about buying a basic piece you will wear and wear, and every time you do you will know it's the best of its kind you could buy. I'm not talking about spending $600 for a pair of pants from The Row. That's only paying for the name, and we're not playing that game.

Any time I've done it (and there have not been many), I've never been sorry. In fact fairly recently I did something similar. I've had a pair of slim leg double knit black pull on pants for years that were probably $15 at TJ Maxx. Even though they look good and still do, really, I am aware that A) someday they are going to fall apart and B) they are not The Best. 

When I get dressed to impress (so to speak) I'm very aware those pants are not "good". So when I came across their equivalent from Vince (also at T J Maxx but in The Runway) I plunked down the $100 and am not sorry. It does make a difference; you know what you are wearing.

Don't worry, as I have, that paying too much for a basic will set you on the slippery slope where you will henceforth only be happy with $475 Loro Piana t-shirts. We've long been told that it's better to have fewer items of quality than many which are not. As someone who loves volume and choice, I've not always agreed. In the case of a good basic, I can now see the wisdom. 

* * * * *

There are three categories of splurges:

THE WAIT-AND-SEE
This one operates with a carefully thought out battle plan. You dream about it, locate it, find the best price, dream some more, start justifying, etc. I'm presently trying to find a tiny but thick pair of real gold hoop earrings on a post, not impossible because I found a cheap, costume jewelry pair. My search for the real thing is a great excuse to go shopping. I've yet to find them, but I will splurge when I do. I just hope it's not too soon.

THE SPONTANEOUS
I'm all for this splurge because one never knows when you will fall for something. Unless it's a flash sale or final markdown, you can usually put it on hold. Go home, think about it, come back, try it on again. After all that you should know. If you don't/can't put it on hold you may be playing a game of Russian roulette. If you lose you can always convince yourself "it wasn't meant to be." Personally, I don't enjoy that game. I'd rather buy it and return it.

THE AFFORDABLE
You really don't need it, but it won't set you back much. This is kind of my philosophy when trolling through a vintage store or a sales rack. I might not need it, but it scratches some itch. I set a $30 limit for myself and don't look back. Over time, however, these "little splurges" can add up. I try not to do the math.

 * * * * *

Now no one likes returning something. If not an admission of guilt, the return will be an inconvenience at best, an annoyance at worst. I counsel, in the immortal words of Cher in "Moonstruck", get over it. I understand; it's a hurdle, but you will feel so much better unloading this thing you don't really want. Just don't make it a habit.

Always know the store's return policy. Have you ever been confronted with "no returns, exchanges only" when trying to get your money back? This mainly happens at small, expensive boutiques where you have spent too much by even going in (longing can be costly).

In conclusion a splurge can be justified with some kind of logic (twisted or otherwise) and can (usually) be rectified should your cooler head prevail. In any case a splurge is an act best made sparingly.

PS While researching images, I found the photo of that dress, above, on Poshmark, along with a cropped blouse version in the same arresting print. Well, I already have the dress, but I just bought the blouse. $25—an affordable splurge.

Stylish Read: "When Women Ran Fifth Avenue"

Fashion! Shopping! New York! "When Women Ran Fifth Avenue: Glamour and Power at the Dawn of American Fashion" promises a lot. I wanted to love this book. I didn't. While the subject is fascinating, and the three women profiled have interesting stories, author Julie Satow has crammed in much extraneous information, literally sowing these chapters into the book in a different typeface. 

In truth none of her main subjects (Hortense Odlum, Dorothy Shaver and Geraldine Stutz) "ran" Fifth Avenue. In its heyday Fifth Avenue was home to dozens of male-run department and specialty stores. Not to put too fine a point on it, Henri Bendel wasn't even on Fifth Avenue when run by Stutz. Each woman was important but ran only her own show.

Instead of telling one woman's story in a linear manner we time travel between Hortense and Dorothy and Geraldine for no particular reason. Satow will come to a decisive moment in someone's life, end with a teaser (..."and there were changes on the horizon that would soon threaten Dorothy's impressive legacy") then move on to another subject. Resisting the temptation to skip ahead, I went along with the clunky style, finding myself more and more annoyed.

* * * 

Hortense when she ran Bendel's

Hortense Odlum is an unusual choice to profile as she was president of Bonwit Teller for barely seven years. She had never worked a day when her husband picked up an ailing Bonwit's as an investment. Hortense reluctantly took on the task of updating staid Bonwit's, ostensibly to allow him more time with his manicurist girlfriend. Floyd Odlum eventually married the manicurist, Jaqueline Cochran, who, as a crack pilot, did much for women in the WWII air forces. See what I mean about wandering?

Dorothy in her office

Dorothy Shaver at Lord & Taylor, deserves a book of her own. A southern gal who came to New York with a dream, she achieved her lofty goals with visionary ideas and the knack for getting things done. Her tenure at Lord & Taylor was a long one. Under Dorothy Lord & Taylor set the stage for department store as style arbiter. Many of her innovations (like the College Shop) were adopted all over the country. Hired in 1921, she was President from 1945 until her death in 1959, and her influence guided the store for many years after.

Geraldine at Bendel's

Henri Bendel may not be familiar to as many readers. Bendel under Geraldine Stutz was small but mighty and dripping with cachet. Her embrace of upcoming young designers brought recognition to many. A master of display and believer in visual merchandising, her "Street of Shops" concept became the model for shopping as an Experience. These chapters feel the most complete, likely because Satow was able to interview many who knew or worked with Stutz.

And while interesting nuggets on their own, her forays into other areas (the first Black-owned department store, Elizabeth Hawes' experiences purloining couture to copy in Paris, the history of store window mannequins, etc.) feel like padding.

Would I recommend "When Women Ran Fifth Avenue"? For the information, yes. For the pleasure of reading a well-paced, well-edited book? Not so much.

* * *

Unlike the author, who regrets she missed the Great Age of these stores, I remember them well. I miss those days, when walking into a store filled one with delight and promise, longing and satisfaction. Some of my own recollections from that magical time long, long ago:

Bonwit's NY flagship in the '30s

Bonwit Teller had a teeny-tiny branch in Cleveland, but it was the place to shop when you could, if you could. That was where my Aunt Sally bought a $40 handbag back when $40 was equal to $400 today. She swore me to secrecy. My one-and-only Lanz dress came from Bonwit Teller, as did the Hattie Carnegie label I found on the dressing room floor that I sewed into a cotton dress. It then ran in the wash.

L&T— famous for its Christmas windows

Lord & Taylor was so much a part of New York, its closure can only have been met with disbelief. L&T was where my mother and older sister bought winter coats on our family trip in 1951. I can still see my father impatiently tapping his feet while they tried them on and reacting in mock horror when he got the bill. Me? I was just biding my time until we got to FAO Schwartz. Years later Lord & Taylor was where my mother, since moved to NYC herself, got her post-retirement job in the lingerie department. She loved it.

The 57th Street Bendel's

 
I interviewed once at Henri Bendel with Geraldine Stutz for the position of Art Director. I had no business even applying because I was woefully unqualified. She was incredibly nice and never told me I wasn't right for the position, but I'm sure she knew. Once I realized what it entailed I was truly relieved not to get the job.

Top Ten Fashion Truth or Consequences

Like all things in life, fashion has its pitfalls, its La Brea tar pits. Fall into them, and you may sink. Madam here reveals the traps that may trip.

And what gives me the authority? Well, I am a woman. I have been shopping for clothes a good 70 years and wearing them for 81 1/2. I know what the lessons are but don't always learn them. I have faced the consequences. My lovely friend DO started this ball rolling, reminding me we've all been there and misery loves company.

Ten of the most galling truths, in no particular order:

>Just because it looks good on the hanger doesn’t mean it’ll look good on you. If it looks terrible on the hanger, it may actually look good on you. This is why when you go shopping you must try everything on.

> Buy for the life you have, not the life you want to have. Too much aspiration is a bad thing! You end up with a museum of clothes that are “too good to wear.” 

> “Love the fabric” does not equal “love the garment.”

> "Love the color" does not mean you should wear it, but you can live with it. Interior decorating is fun!

> If your shoes hurt it doesn't matter what you are wearing. You will be miserable, and no matter how beautiful you look, you will feel terrible.

> Never take new shoes (or new anything for that matter) on a trip.

> Try not to wear something for the first time to a special occasion, unless it's your wedding. Since this is practically impossible to do unless cocktail hour around your house is quite the event, try on all the pieces enough times to feel very sure how everything goes, sits, moves, etc.

> If something in your closet stares you in the face as a bad buy, get rid of it. Don’t throw good money after bad. If it’s fundamentally wrong, you can’t fix it, no matter what accessories you think will save it.

> Try your new purchase on again when you get home. Things look different in your own mirror. Leave the tags on and keep the receipt handy. Buyer's remorse is debilitating, and returning can be an admission of defeat at the very least, but sometimes it's necessary. Those who work in retail do understand...to a point. Serial returners are never welcome. If you are one, you need to learn restraint.

> If you've had a really bad experience wearing a particular item of clothing, get rid of it. I know; it happened to me, and every time I looked at that shirt I remembered a Really Bad Day. While the reverse can be true as well, if you can't fit into it or it isn't part of your life anymore (hello, college sweatshirt) pack it away tenderly and carefully. Just don't keep it in your closet.

In light of all that can go wrong, don't be too hard on yourself. You'll have another chance to get dressed tomorrow.

Stylish Read: "Double Click"

If you're old enough to remember the Doublemint Twins campaign for Wrigley's gum, the title "Double Click" makes perfect sense. Twin sisters Frances and Kathryn McLaughlin were born in 1919, grew up adorable, photogenic and attached at the hip. Exceptionally smart, they both gravitated to art, then photography and married photographers. Each had successful, separate photographic careers and were still close (but less attached at the hip) throughout their lives.

Franny and Fuffy (Kathryn)
or is it Fuffy and Franny?

 
So how could this possibly fill 405 pages, including 46 pages of end notes, a 20-page index and 12-page "cast of characters"? Read that first, by the way, as therein lies the heart of the story. The author, Carol Kino, realized that her twin subjects were at the very center of New York fashion and magazine publishing in the 1940s and '50s. The people in their lives included the well known (Carmel Snow, Alexander Liberman) as well as the lesser known (Toni Frissell, Margaret Hockaday) and a whole bunch more. They all get their own profiles as the story of the twins unfolds.

Franny and Kathryn (for sure)

As a student of all things fashion history, I was enthralled, but less so by the twins themselves. For much of the book they seemed to enjoy a good time and having fun, albeit in chaste ways appropriate to the era. They weren't interviewed for this book as both died in 2014 at 94 and 95. Frances lived the longest.

How could they not come off a bit entitled? Fuffy and Franny (the names they went by) were gifted with good looks and intelligence. Although they claimed to have worked hard, which they no doubt did, the novelty of being twins surely must have given them two feet in the door.

Full disclosure: I knew Frances McLaughlin-Gill. She often had assignments from Glamour when I was starting out (1965) and worked for Glamour until the later part of the '60s. She was a welcome visitor in the art department, where everyone called her "Franny" and seemed to have known her for years, which they did. 

Franny shooting for Glamour in the '50s

In 1946 Frances was the first woman hired as a staff photographer in the Conde Nast photo studio. Although the studio closed in 1954, she was still working freelance for Glamour. By the time I met her, she was doing the smaller shoots around town and studio work but never sent on the big trips. Those were often shot by the Europeans Alexander Liberman was "trying out" at Glamour before moving up to Vogue or by a stable of New Yorkers, all men (especially Bill Connors and Sante Forlano). Franny was dependable and uber-professional. Her work would be exactly what the assignment called for. No drama.

I remember her as a nice looking woman in her 'mid 40s, She wore little makeup and had a simple hairstyle. I recall her wearing a plain shirt and skirt or a chino raincoat. Of course I never called her Franny; she was "Mrs. Gill" to me and was always very pleasant to this newbie learning the ropes. I had no idea she had a twin. Kathryn (Abbe) was also well known both as a fashion photographer and candid photographer of children. 

A very young Carmen by Franny

 
If I was somewhat disappointed that I never felt I knew the two McLaughlins, "Double Click" was rewarding in many other ways, from the little known history of College Boards and junior magazines to the host of amazing talents and personalities that were part of their lives.

I arrived in New York City at the tail end of this era, but Kino's cast of characters were still important, and their goings-on were still office fodder. I learned who all the players were and some delicious gossip to boot. Reading "Double Click" filled in the gaps and polished the gems. It was fun.

She plays a role in the story.

 

 

Fashion Magazines Have Lost Their Minds

It's official. With so little left of print publications, the few major remaining (Vogue, Harper's Bazaar and Elle in the United States) have been teetering on the absurd for ages. They've now toppled.

Of the three Elle, with Nina Garcia at the helm, seemed the most reasonable. It celebrated the fun that is the fantasy of fashion along with some stuff you could really wear. The March issue, at 216 pages and healthier than usual, is both silly and sad.

Really?

Really?

Really?

Really?

I have a sheet...

Really?

Really?

What even is this anyway?

Gone are the days when a magazine had the hubris to tell you what to wear. Once upon a time Glamour even published a "What to Wear With What" chart twice a year that I looked forward to. A blessing! Yes, it can be a relief not to be restricted as to "what's in/what's out" today. On the other hand... Some love rules and feel comforted by them. Others like rules in order to flaunt them. 

 
So no rules today (other than those of decency and your own preferences). But what about inspiration? Where are we getting that from? There are a few good authorities—Jess Cartner-Morley, Alyson Walsh and Trinny Woodall—but none of them are based in the States. Vanessa Friedman is a terrific reporter for the NY Times, but she's largely not an advisor. Celebrities? How many red carpet events do you attend?

I will troll the stores to see if I can get excited. There are less of them, and I have better things to do. Once upon a time my path from work to home took me onto Fifth or Madison Avenues; lunch break meant I could run down to 34th Street or up to 59th. I don't live there anymore. Even in those halcyon days, I loved fashion magazines. I can only imagine their many thousands of readers outside metropolitan areas loved them too.

Depending where you were on your life's journey, the fashion magazines spoke to you like a wise young aunt, a hip big sister or a smart, chic girlfriend. You might not always take her advice, but you loved hearing what she had to say. Today's magazines may be amusing themselves. but they are delighting—and enlightening—no one else.

Life's Lost Little Luxuries #10: The Car Coat

Lady, you need a car coat!

 
Longer than a jacket, shorter than a coat and sporty first cousin to a topper, the car coat as a fashion piece appeared in the 1950s. There were car coats much earlier of course—long, protective "dusters" for both men and women in the early days of automobiling. With a post war economy that saw more cars in driveways, more errands run in them by the lady of the house and more young women behind the wheel, the car coat was not a fad but a necessity—a coat that would be comfortable and not bulky while driving a car.

 
I first had a car coat when I was in junior high. I had no driver's license, but a car coat was the thing to have. It was easy to throw on, looked right with casual clothing and could span the seasons. Made of less expensive fabrics than wool (typically gabardine, poplin or duck), it was a style that lived on for many years. We may still wear them, but hardly anyone calls it a car coat.

Classic vintage car coat

Not all car coats were deemed as such. A car coat could also be a barn jacket, stadium coat or a loden coat (preferably with toggles) . It was really about the length—From hip to 3/4 length, just not so long as to get in the way when you were behind the wheel. 

1965 car coats

The classic barn jacket

Car coats were modern. When she got hers my middle aged mother suddenly looked kind of hip. It was so unlike anything she had worn before. Hers was a beige chino Balmacan that was (shockingly) a little masculine. 

Today's Ralph Lauren version

So what have we learned? Sometimes a fad can become a staple after a name change. "Car coat" does sound a bit dated /fuddy-duddy. But that coat—casual and unrestrictive—is still going everywhere.

Thanks to DG for reminding me even a coat can have nine lives.

Stylish Streaming: "New Look"

 
If you expect a lovely romp through fashion, be warned. "New Look" (in 4 of the 10 episodes released at this writing) is about war. Not the war between competing fashion houses for the acclaim and the business, but WWII, that one.       

Spoiler alert not needed as we are dealing with real people and real events. The disclaimer "inspired by true events" should be warning enough that all we are about to see is not historically accurate. 

1930s Chanel designs

Chanel, 1930s

 I'm not a scholar of Chanel or Dior but have read enough on both of them to sense that sometimes in "New Look" inspiration went into the cornfield. No doubt two of the most recent books served as jumping off spots—Justine Picardie's "Miss Dior: A Story About Courage and Couture" on Christian and his sister Catherine, a member of the French resistance who paid a hefty price, and "Sleeping with the Enemy: Coco Chanel's Secret War" by Hal Vaughan.

The "New Look" of 1947

Christian Dior, same year

I might quibble that Chanel and Dior would appear in greater clarity if some effort had been made to give us background. Dior's family was comfortably well-off. His father had made it big in fertilizer. Chanel led a hardscrabble life to get where we see her here, a tale familiar to some but perhaps not all.

1930s Lelong designs

Lucien Lelong

More backstory on Lucien Lelong, Dior's employer, would have helped. Lelong was Chanel's rival as the premier French couturier in the 1930s. It's not entirely clear in "New Look" that he really was a good guy. When the Nazis threatened to move all the couture houses to Berlin, Lelong negotiated to keep them open and in Paris, saving hundreds of jobs. On the other hand Chanel had decided to shutter her business in 1939 (not mentioned in "New Look") and spent the rest of WWII living in the Ritz hotel.

Chanel's  character is the most unclear. The story begins in 1943 when she is 60. She might have been a great coquette in her youth, yet she is treated here as a femme fatale, especially by a much younger looking Nazi general. She also seems flummoxed by what is happening to her. What I've read is that if anything Chanel was determined, egotistical and above all a survivor. Wishy washy she was not.

Ben Mendelsohn as Dior, Juliette Binoche as Chanel

 
Early on we see Chanel grousing that her business partners, the Wertheimers, had run off to New York ahead of the Nazi invasion of France and "stolen" her company. She lobbied with the Nazis to get it back by agreeing to visit her old friend Winston Churchill in Madrid with a plan to end the war. In an earlier subplot Chanel has paid the Nazis a hefty ransom to release her captured nephew.

Churchill with Chanel, 1920s

 
In reality when they took over, Chanel asked the Nazis, who were seizing Jewish-owned companies and property, to give the company to her as it had been "abandoned by the Wertheimers". Unbeknown to Chanel, however, the Wertheimers had sold the company to a French Christian on the condition it would be sold back to them after the war, which it was. She was not pleased to learn this, but—believe it or not—the Wertheimers still own Chanel to this day.

And the Winston Churchill plot? Yes, it happened, but the trade off was in order to free her nephew. She went; Churchill wasn't there, but the nephew was released.

The viewer with only a passing interest may take "New Look"'s plot as gospel. I've no idea what we will see in upcoming episodes, but I think it's important to remember the difference between historical fiction and fictitious history.  

Suits are No Longer Fitting

When was the last time you saw a suit for sale? Was it back when department stores were still reliably profitable and "Suits" was its own department? What was the last suit you owned/wore? For some it may be "none". I think my last was brown tweed with a pencil skirt and faux fur collar that I bought at very deep discount in the mid '90s.

By suit I mean two pieces that match, top and bottom. I wear a lot of jackets because A) I am always cold and B) a jacket can hide a multitude of flaws. Besides, three pieces make an outfit. If you're a service professional, you probably wear a suit as do most politicians. But the rest of us? It would seem suits no longer fit our lifestyles.

VP with gravitas and killer heels

 
Suits took a while to become part of a woman's wardrobe. The Victorians had outfits for tennis, golf, riding, etc. as those activities became accepted pursuits for women. Sarah Bernhardt shocked the world in 1870 with her pantsuit (she also played Hamlet in tights), but it didn't catch on. Amazingly, one could practically wear this today...

I could; would you?

A suit was reliable. My mother sewed and always had two or three in her wardrobe, usually worn with a printed blouse that matched the jacket lining. She rarely wore a dress. A suit could be made to work for almost any occasion short of a wedding. Although I remember my last suit I don't remember the first, but I recall feeling very grown up.*

Diana knew how to be taken seriously

 
So what has happened?

Obviously we lead less formal, more relaxed lives. We aren't so inclined to "dress up" for certain roles as long as we appear presentable. Some would say we are into expressing our true selves 24/7. Others would say standards have slipped.

I volunteer with Dress for Success, where step one is outfitting a client with a professional looking outfit. The other day I looked at that room of carefully hung pants suits and skirt suits and wondered if they were not all a bit out of sync. Then as usual, when my client saw herself for the first time in a well fitting suit of her choice, I realized how a suit adds polish and gives confidence. When you show up for an interview looking business-like, you look like you mean business. 

That said we tell clients her new job may be "business casual" so don't be afraid to break that suit up and wear the jacket as a blazer and the pants/skirt with other tops. 

Will the suit return in force? Doubtful. Of course as soon as something is declared dead, someone resurrects it. Fashion is one planet where one never says never...

* Slight addenda here. I may not have remembered that first suit, but I did recall the photograph. Age 5-ish and looking tres chic. Thanks, Mom!