Sunday, November 26, 2017

Finding Fashion in the Strangest Places

Gertrude by Beaton, 1939

I never expected to discover an interesting tidbit of fashion history while reading about Gertrude Stein, but there it was.

"Love, Cecil" is a wonderful documentary by Lisa Immordino Vreeland, the filmmaker who gifted us with "The Eye Has to Travel" about Diana Vreeland. Cecil is Cecil Beaton, no slouch on the fashion scene as a photographer and designer of costumes and sets for "Gigi" and "My Fair Lady". In his long career Beaton photographed almost everyone who was anybody, among them Gertrude Stein.

Now Gertrude is not a fashion icon by any means, though she certainly had her own style. Sometimes, when I've gotten too short a haircut, I hope it doesn't make me look like Gertrude Stein. Fortunately hair grows quickly.

I've long been interested in Cecil Beaton. Inexplicably, his "The Glass of Fashion" was one of the first books I read on the subject. I was 11 or 12. Vreeland's film rekindled an interest in Cecil and his amazing talents. The book "Portraits and Profiles" by John Vickers pairs photos of his well known subjects with excerpts from the diaries he meticulously kept throughout his life.

There she was, between Winston Churchill and Colette, looking stern but softened by her nuzzling dog. An American who settled in Paris in the 1920s, Gertrude Stein's salon was the gathering place for Picasso, Cocteau, Matisse, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, etc. She was a writer in her own right and an early champion of modern art. Her constant companion was the somewhat mysterious Alice B Toklas. Alice said little but was a terrific cook.

Gertrude, Alice and another pet

Still no fashion... But wait.
In Cecil's diary excerpt is the story of how Gertrude and Alice, both Jewish, found refuge during WWII in the mountains of France. Quoting from the diary:

"During the years of cold and shortages Gertrude and Alice became friends with a neighbor at Aix, a simple young man named Pierre Balmain, with a taste for antiques and a natural bent for designing women's clothes. In fact he made with his own hands heavy tweeds and warm garments for Gertrude and Alice Toklas to wear during the hard winters."

After the war Balmain set up shop in Paris and became one of the leading couturiers until his death in 1982. His clothes were always sophisticated and elegant and worn by royalty and film stars. He never sold a ready-to-wear line, but did produce some memorable fragrances including one of my favorites, "Jolie Madame". Who doesn't want to smell like a "pretty lady"? Balmain also apprenticed at least two young men who went on to great things themselves, Karl Lagerfeld and Oscar de la Renta.

Typical Balmain elegance
 
Gertrude and Alice were guests at Balmain's first showing to the Paris press. They arrived in their usual states of un-fashion, Gertrude "in an old cinnamon colored sack and Panama hat" and Alice in "a long Chinese garment of bright colors". Beaton continues:

"Gertrude, seeing the world of fashion assembled, whispered 'Little do they know that we are the only people here dressed by Balmain, and it's just as well for him that they don't'."
   

Friday, November 24, 2017

Forever Edie

 
Why Edie Beale and Grey Gardens?  What is there about the person (or persons as there are two Edies) and the place, their once-glorious-then-ramshackle-finally-restored home in Easthampton, NY?

Grey Garden's estate sale last week by Durell Godfrey

The Beales and the house have been in the public arena for years. Edie Bouvier Beale and her daughter Edie, known as Little Edie, were Jackie Kennedy's aunt and cousin on the Bouvier side (Jackie's father). In 1971 Jackie stepped in to address complaints about the place from Easthampton's town fathers. Once a beautiful mansion in the tony summer enclave for elite New Yorkers, it had gone to rack and ruin along with its two inhabitants.

Last week the owner of the restored Grey Gardens, journalist Sally Quinn, held a sale that drew fans from far and wide. They weren't there for mementos of Sally or her late husband, Ben Bradlee. The draw was the house itself and items that had belonged to the Beales.

The Edies in somewhat better days


At the very least, Edie and Little Edie were eccentric. They were most probably mentally ill. But they were happy. As seen in the Maysles' 1975 documentary, it might have been a warped mother/daughter relationship, but the bonds were strong. They depended on and were dependent on each other. They never saw anything amiss in the way they lived— in perfect squalor with multiple cats and raccoons. When Little Edie was finally persuaded to sell Grey Gardens  in 1979 she declared all it needed was a coat of paint.

 
There are at least 8 books written about Little Edie and Grey Gardens. This one, "Edith Bouvier Beale of Grey Gardens", is one of my favorites. It's a sympathetic look at her life with many pictures. She obviously always loved fashion and had the tall, rangy figure of a "woman who wore clothes well". By the time of the Maysles' film, she had honed her style to what suited her and made her happy. This in itself is a lesson we can all learn.

   
That mink coat, worn oh so casually over everything (even a leotard). Those head wraps to erase thoughts of any Bad Hair Day. Her mixing of genres and patterns— not easy to do as anyone who's tried may have realized. She had the absolute conviction of a woman who loved to dress up, knew when she had gotten it right and acted accordingly. She put herself out there and totally forgot what she was wearing.

The documentary has always made me somewhat uneasy. We are never sure how to view them, though they are a fascinating pair. Showtime 's "Grey Gardens", with Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore, is such a good companion piece it might almost need to be seen first.

  




Monday, November 20, 2017

"I Have to Go to the Gym!"


How we feel has a lot to do with how we feel about how we look.

That's not quite as convoluted as it might seem. When you are feeling strong and healthy you look better, and when you look better you feel a whole lot better about this getting older thing. I can do it, you think, and you are grateful for the opportunity.

How I feel has a lot to do with how much exercise I get. I never thought once of going to the gym while sightseeing in Rome. Back home is another story. Unless you live in New York City or a few other large metropoles, we are a car-centric society. Walking is a deliberate act, not part of a daily routine.

So I belong to a gym. It's a very nice gym, within walking distance of my house (should I wish to walk). There are flowers and magazines and plenty of tvs. The equipment is always in good condition. The staff are friendly. I'm greeted warmly. It's not cheap.

But I need to force/psyche myself to go. I've tried going early before I do anything else and end up still in my bathrobe at noon. I've tried going at the end of the day and decide I'm too tired (from driving around?). I will use a visit to the Marshall's downstairs as a lure. Whatever I do to psyche myself becomes a little game.

Until I read, somewhere, that we shouldn't think at this point in our lives that we HAVE to go to the gym. We should be thinking, I'm glad I CAN go to the gym.

Makes sense to me, and it's made a difference. This will be short because I'm going to the gym. 


Tuesday, November 7, 2017

Vintage for the Ages

 
Vintage for the ages of what???
How old is too old to wear vintage?
What exactly is "vintage" anyways? 
Those are the age-old questions in today's mash-up world of vintage/retro looks.

To answer the last question first: An antique is considered anything 50 years or older. That date for vintage is 20 years. Thus if it's older than 1967, it's an antique. But we are still calling fashion from the 60s, 50s, 40s, 30s and 20s "vintage". Likewise if it's older than 1997, it's "vintage". If it's newly made but in the style of a past era, it's called "retro". But you knew that already.

The first time I heard the term vintage given to what might be considered an "old dress" was the gown Julia Roberts wore to the Oscars in 2001. It was designed by Valentino in 1992. I have canned goods older than 9 years.

A "Pretty Woman" alright
 
Since then "vintage" is practically anything not from this season. We no longer have old clothes in our closets. That stuff is "vintage". I don't take it seriously. It's like calling Target "Tar-jay".

Is there an age-limit to wearing vintage? I once read you can only wear vintage from eras you were not alive and/or actually wearing clothes. That means I can wear looks from the 40s backward. This dictum in itself has an age limit. I do not want to look like an old silent film star a la Gloria Swanson in "Sunset Boulevard".

Not ready for my close-up
 
How should a WOACA* tackle vintage? By now you know what looks good on you, or should. We all wore miniskirts back in the day or felt left behind. Today you can disregard anything vintage that is less than flattering.

Avoid vintage looks that are not on trend. No 40s or 80s big shoulders. A few years ago high-waisted "mom" jeans were totally outdated. Today you can wear them— with a great tucked-in shirt and cool belt— but no pleats, please.


Look to classic vintage. I have a black turtleneck from B Altman circa 1965, which makes it "antique". That sweater is no different from one I could buy today. I scored a pair of plaid Pendelton wide-leg, high-waisted pants at a resale shop. The giveaway is the size label. Evidently a 14 was once the equivalent of today's 6. Chanel jackets, whether genuine or channeling Chanel are timeless, as are military jackets from Army surplus to Ralph Lauren. A cape is still a cape. A trench coat still has it.

Classy classics

Remember the icons. Marlene Dietrich's and Katherine Hepburn's man-tailored styles. Audrey Hepburn's capri pants and ballet flats. Jackie Kennedy's simple shifts. And my all-time favorite, Sharon Stone's GAP shirt and ballgown, another Oscar winner.

Berets are "in" this season, too.
Bridging the GAP

Ditch the trim. Avoid juvenile flounces and rick-rack, puffed sleeves and suspenders. Heidi was never a good role model.

Choose modern accessories. This is how vintage gets updated. I see chandelier earrings with t-shirts. If you like them, wear lots of bracelets. Go for on trend necklaces and au courant shoes. Accessories will make it yours.

Pin stripes perfected

Never do matchy-matchy. The only person who gets away with that is the Queen.

God save the touch of black.
*WOACA = Woman of a Certain Age