Judi Dench at the Beach?

Not Judi in New Jersey

Could it be? Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw Judi Dench having dinner at a lovely farm-to-table restaurant in my favorite seaside city. Right and left brains collided simultaneously because— of course— Judi Dench would never be in Cape May, New Jersey (though I hear Tina Fey weekends there).

The "Judi Dench" I saw was the one in "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel", after she started accessorizing with Indian jewelry and colorful scarves. It's the role I most imagine is the Judi Dench of real life, but I've no way of knowing for certain.

This lady— who was not Judi Dench— was a Woman of a Certain Age with a great deal of style. I loved her colorful, striped sweater, dangling jewelry and spikey cropped hair. She was engaged with her dinner companions, smiled often, listened well, drank wine and even ordered dessert.

She was directly in my line of vision. It was just the two of us, my husband and I, out for dinner. Love means not having to keep up a roaring conversation with your date of 48 years to have a good time.

Judi not in New Jersey

Draw Me a Picture!

V.G. Waymer for the New York Times

 
Once upon a time (don't you love stories that begin like this?), illustration was the way to show fashion. Indeed, before the invention of the camera and relevant printing processes for photography it was the only way. Although photographs may have been accurate, they weren't always flattering. The fashion model hadn't yet risen from the sea a la Botticelli's Venus. Check out this photograph of Mrs. Paul Poiret wearing one of her husband's fanciful designs and the charming drawing by Paul Iribe of other Poirets.

Mme. Poiret

 Poiret by M. Iribe

 
This past week, the New York Times illustrated a piece on beauty products (top) with a drawing by V.G. Waymer. Even the products look beautiful. I was reminded immediately of the late, great Antonio (Lopez), who was prolific beyond belief and whose work, more than any photos, illustrate the frenzy that was New York club society in the 1970s and '80s.

Antonio in the '80s

 
Antonio started his published career at Glamour in the '60s. His work back then was mostly black and white. That's one reason we commissioned illustration— cheaper to reproduce. One of my jobs in the Glamour art department was to clean out the drawers of extraneous artwork every month. Illustrators would often submit several finished pieces for a job. Antonio depleted more trees than anyone, and I would throw out paper by the armful.*

Earlier Antonio

FYI— today illustrators have all rights to their work, keep what isn't used and receive the original back after publication (unless it's a digital file). Then we threw out the rejects and kept the published one in the library. You just know that Conde Nast library is a treasure trove of masterworks.

My other Glamour favorites, even before working there, were Sheila Camera, Richard Giglio and Erica Perl. They drew magic and put me in the picture better than any futile attempts to emulate a fashion model.

Sheila Camera

Richard Giglio

Erica Perl

Through the years there have been many other famous and fabulous fashion illustrators—Rene Bouche, Eric, Kenneth Paul Bloch, Matt Gustafson, etc. At one time it would not have been unusual to put illustration on a cover.

Rene Bouche

Eric

Kenneth Paul Bloch

Matt Gustafson

Not to take anything away from the great fashion photographers— then, now and forever— but isn't illustration a beautiful departure?

V.G. Waymer has got what it takes

* You do not need to point out how stupid that was.

Happy Birthday Blog

The greatest gift I've given myself over the past 3 1/2 years is writing this blog. I'm amazed how many click on to read my take on a myriad of things (bed jackets! Beatrix Obst! Zara has closed!). I've become just a little smug: "Forgive me if I was late in meeting you because I was blogging." "Thanks for understanding (husband) when I didn't get everything done I said I would— because I was blogging".

Even though you didn't ask, I'm going to give you tips on how to enjoy writing a blog and how to write one people will like. The latter advice is because I read a lot of blogs too.

> Have something to say. It almost doesn't matter what your subject, if you write with passion, you will find an audience. You'll also enjoy the writing a whole lot more.

> Make it short. As a reader I tend to "save for later" blogs that look to be the length of New Yorker essays. Then, of course, later never happens. Hook your reader; make it short and you'll keep her.

> Engage the reader. Ask opinions. Ask questions. Make her think. Don't just "I" her to tears.

> Keep it simple. Don't over-design your blog. I'm a designer, and my blog is really simple. It's because I'm here as a writer as much as because I'm old-school and not really comfortable with technology.

> Add visuals. Until something changes, there is a treasure chest of images to download for free. Of course there are stock agencies who let you know it, but so much is there for the taking. I do give credit when I can, especially to an artist or specific photographer. As I said, who knows how long this "free-dom" will last. You can always take your own pix, of course. It's so easy with an iPhone, iPad or digital camera. If you're on a computer you're probably using one. I've even photographed photographs with tolerable results.

> Be consistent. Try not to blog and disappear. Realize it's a commitment. If I love reading your blog, I'm going to be annoyed when you're gone for months without a reason or a teacher's excuse.

> Fill in your profile. You don't have to compromise your security or even reveal your full identity, but who the heck are you and why are you doing this? I will look.

> Re-read what you wrote. "In the heat of battle" is a phrase that applies to bloggers too. Sometimes I get so excited to have made my point, I will press "Publish" to a blog full of typos. Thank goodness for the "edit" button.

Will the blog phenomenon last? I think we may become weary of endless blogs of "this is what I wore today". Sure, we all like a peek at who our writer is, but pix after pix of your showing off your outfits is not going to interest me long. Unless, of course, you are Iris Apfel.

So happy birthday to me, and this gift is for you.

The Week of Living Dangerously

This past week I threw caution to the winds and went on vacation knowing what would happen. By day two it would be no hair, no makeup, no worries.

We spent a week at a favorite spot, "down the shore" on Cape May, New Jersey. Cape May is no hick Jersey beach town. It's long been on the National Register of Historic Places for its quaint Victorian architecture and can be seen as a mix of Martha's Vineyard, The Hamptons and Disneyworld Main Street USA.

I've always packed a number of outfits for a variety of activities, from bike riding to beaching to sightseeing, shopping and fine dining. I've always over-packed and ended up, for the most part, in my most comfortable easy-breezy duds (but we do like to dress for dinner).

This year I packed two evening outfits for a week's vacation and a mix/match of drawstring cotton pants, slouchy shorts, t-shirts and a worn-in (though newly purchased) safari shirt. My favorite outfit (see above) was said shirt, camo shorts, canvas slip ons, baseball cap and— wait for it— a fanny pack. I will not apologize for that fanny pack as it was the most wonderful feeling to have keys, money and cell phone literally strapped to my body. I only regret its being black and boring. Next purchase: a fanny pack with style.

The dangerous part is I was so relaxed, unfazed with going barefaced and happy being fashion-free that I feared I might never recover.

I needn't have worried. I'm afraid it would take more than a week.

Grandma at the Beach

 
Many years ago I read somewhere that "all children think their grandmothers are beautiful". It may have been an essay about learning to live with your aging self. I was too young at the time to take it at face value, but it gave me hope even then.

I interpreted that as "there will always be someone who thinks you're beautiful" as well as "children have the right idea and see beauty in a different way". A child is less judgmental and sees grandma as someone who loves unconditionally (the surest way to get unconditional love in return).

As a much younger woman, I knew a grandmother (the mother of a good friend) whose face was entirely crinkled. She had beautiful, powdery soft skin. The wrinkles were so fine, it was as if you had crushed tissue paper then tried to straighten it out. She smiled easily (deeper crinkles around the eyes), spoke softly in a lilting voice and was beloved by her grandchildren and children (and others like me as well). I've never seen anyone with more wrinkles than Mrs. Q, and —trust me— she was beautiful.

I've reached the age where that passage read long ago puts things in perspective today. We are still here, old enough to have grandchildren whether we actually do or not. We are role models and should act like them, which means less kevetching and more yes-ing.

A week at the beach is coming up. I will squizzle into a bathing suit on a very public beach with no hesitation (the beach wins). I'll walk along the shore, dipping my toes in the lapping waves. I'll hike over to the frozen banana stand. I might even go into the water (if it's warm enough). I won't think twice about— you know— me, because I could be somebody's grandmother.

Summer Reading Book Club: "Wild Company"

A few posts ago I wondered whatever happened to Banana Republic that it went from sriracha to vanilla, from adventurous to corporate bland. In doing research I discovered the founders, Mel and Patricia Ziegler had written a book, "Wild Company: The Untold Story of Banana Republic", published in 2012. My local library came through, and I've just finished reading.

What an interesting story! First of all, a cautionary tale. Don't wish for something or you may get it. Mel and Patricia were young professionals (he a newspaper writer, she an illustrator) who were questioning "Is that all there is?" and hoping to find a way to earn a living while following their desires to travel the world and enjoy life's unscripted adventures.

Epiphany came in the form of an army surplus jacket Mel picked up on assignment in Australia. He loved it so much and was complimented so often while wearing it, he and Patricia decided to explore the world of military surplus goods and opened one small store in Mill Valley, California in 1978. They made it fun to shop— creating a faux foreign nation theme— and stocked the store with revamped or re-purposed surplus goods. They knew from the beginning they would need the exposure of mail order to stay alive, so produced smart, witty catalogs illustrated by Patricia.

Back in the GAP days

Still having adventures

Hereby lies the rub. Banana Republic grew so fast (and the supply of acceptable surplus shrunk so quickly) they found themselves run ragged trying to find and/or manufacture merchandise that met their quality standards. Staffing was always a problem, and there are some funny but sad tales of missing merchandise and mismatched deliveries— nightmares that would have upended any couple with less forgiving natures.

Without looking for it (although it was definitely needed) help in the form of corporate America came in the person of Don Fisher, founder and owner of the GAP. It was 1983, and the GAP was at the height of its success. He promised the Zieglers all the backing they needed (as long as they turned a profit) with no intervention from him. For a while the arrangement worked well, despite two of the Fisher sons being part of the now larger executive structure.

Yes, this was a store

It's here that your eyes may glaze over. I happen to love the study of the marketplace as much as the fun and frippery of fashion. I lapped up "Mr. Selfridge" and hated to finish "Style and Substance" (about America's department stores). I don't like the math part (agghh!!), but there's an adventure in retail for which "Wild Company" can be your guide.

In the end, the GAP won. Mel and Patricia realized, not that they were beaten down, but that money wasn't their aim in life. They "retired" for several years, started a family and two new ventures— one a success (Republic of Tea), one ahead of it's time. ZoZa was meant to be "performance clothes for the sport of living" (Lulemon anyone???), but it was short-lived. They came out of the jungle alive, so to speak, and have a great story to tell about retail big game hunters.

Oh, I finally learned what is a SKU, that string of numbers sales associates need when you ask for the "Dragonfly Morning Maxi Skirt". SKU stands for Stock Keeeping Units. Now you know.

That long string of numbers is the SKU

Cinema Chic: "I'll See You in My Dreams"

 
Blythe Danner inhabits the role of Carol in the new movie "I'll See You in My Dreams" so easily, watching her you feel you know her as well as the friends she hangs out with, playing cards and drinking wine in their "Golden Girls" years. The film isn't exactly a romance or a comedy or a Lifetime-Movie-of-the-Week. It's a slice-of-life study that I won't ruin for you by giving away the plot.

Much of what we think we know about Carol comes through by way of her clothes, hair and makeup. Like the real Blythe Danner, Carol was always beautiful (old pix on the mantel attest to that)*. She is more beautiful still as she hasn't messed with what nature gave her, and is aging elegantly and gracefully. Blythe Danner is 72, and she plays a woman who easily could be 72.

Carol wears what many stylish women do. The costume designer was Mirren Gordon-Crozier, who has only a few years experience in the business. I'm impressed such a young woman has grasped a look I'm only just now beginning to understand: comfortable yet sophisticated clothing you can wear without thinking about what you are wearing.

Mirren and her resume (magnifying glass not included)

Carol (or Mirren doing it for her) must have shopped Chico's and Talbots, Eileen Fisher, Joan Vass and maybe Banana Republic. She's had her accessories "for years". She wears soft colors, loose sweaters and trousers, scarves draped softly rather than tied tightly. She smartly dons a straw hat outside. She has a pair of gold hoops that are her earrings of choice and a classic trench coat, the kind you grab from the closet without thinking. The only "off" piece in the movie is a stiff white blazer printed with oversize green leaves. Carol didn't look comfortable in it, but the scene called for her to be uncomfortable. That jacket helped.

Her hair isn't fussy or tightly styled. It's hard to tell whether it's gray or blonde. Doesn't matter. There are many scenes in which Carol wears no makeup. She looks like she believes in a good moisturizer. When she does get dolled up, she uses a hefty whoosh of eyeliner and mascara, which I think is great. We WOACAS have been cautioned against using prominent makeup, and to that I would like to say, "Balderdash". There's a time and place for everything.

"I'll See You in My Dreams" is definitely worth seeing, as evidenced by the long lines of ladies outside my local cinema the past three weekends. I'm happy to have met Carol and delighted to see Blythe Danner in the starring role, giving such a glowing performance.

I'll also confess to admiring one of Carol's accessories, he of the unlit cigar and major mustache, as  played by Sam Elliott.

* Look carefully and you'll notice there is a photo of the real Blythe with her late husband, Bruce Paltrow, as well as a young Gwyneth Paltrow standing in for Carol's daughter as a child.