Stylish Cinema: "Book Club"

Am I the only woman in America who did not like "Book Club"? For various and assorted reasons—not the least of which was three days of continuous rain—I was seriously ready for a rom-com, one that I could enjoy despite its being perhaps a little silly. What I wasn't willing to accept was one that insulted my intelligence while being as full of holes as Swiss cheese.

To be clear, I loved "Bridesmaids", another film about women behaving badly. I very much enjoyed "I'll See You in My Dreams", a rom-com with a slice of reality. And a book club saved my life back when I was having serious issues with my son's kindergarten teacher. I really, really wanted to love this movie.

Alas, I left with too many questions. Why did we never see Jane Fonda, as the owner of a chic California hotel, actually working? Ditto the chef/owner of a trendy restaurant. Certainly that has to be one of the most labor-intensive professions ever, yet Mary Steenburgen's character spent most of the time trying to get her reluctant husband into bed.

Diane Keaton was, as always, Diane Keaton. She has got that down so well the film didn't bother giving her another job. My favorite was the vulnerable Candice Bergen, believable as a federal judge, unfathomable as a divorcee obsessed with her ex-husband.

The male actors, (mainly Richard Dreyfuss, Craig T. Nelson, Andy Garcia, Don Johnson, and Ed Begley, Jr) all recognizable from better days and former glories, were for the most part accessories.

Speaking of accessories, my intent was to report on the fashion in this movie. I was interested how the actresses would be dressed in their roles as obviously well-off, sophisticated mature women.

A fun fact: the books the club is reading are E.L. James' "Fifty Shades of Grey" trilogy. The costume designer for "Book Club", Shay Cunliffe,  also did that for the third "Grey" movie, "Fifty Shades Freed". Oh, and featured actor Don Johnson's daughter Dakota starred in those movies.

Here's how Shay did:

Diane Keaton's character (also named Diane) is dressed like someone who admires Diane Keaton and adopted her best looks without the silly bits. Diane's wardrobe is mostly black and white, including a stunning white pantsuit worn to the airport (not too practical) and shown without the jacket above. She has one scene in a light blue shirt and great fitting jeans. Her makeup was understated and hair an impossibly sleek swatch of white blonde. Diane herself could take a few lessons on how to look like Diane in "Book Club".

Jane Fonda as hotel-owner-allergic-to-love Vivian wears intentionally body-con clothing that's more Sexy Cougar than high fashion. Some of the prints were a little matronly. The clothes fit her splendid shape flawlessly. She has not a wrinkle on them or her face. Jane Fonda is fairly encased in plastic these days. She doesn't look real until the scene with Vivian in an untucked plaid shirt scarfing ice cream, meant to demonstrate she was vulnerable to love and frozen dairy products. That red head of hair was pretty obviously a wig.

Candice Bergen's Sharon is a believable federal judge with her understated work wardrobe. She hasn't a clue how to dress for a blind date. I did laugh at her wrestling match with a foundation garment in a fitting room. Nobody won that fight. Less feasible was her transformation to a hot mama (more like a chic Martha Stewart) on her second  blind date. Who gave her the makeover?

Mary Steenburgen is Carol, the chef and restaurant owner. Her wardrobe is modified Boho mixed with sleek working woman sheaths. Chef whites make a fleeting appearance but are never seen again. Her wardrobe is fairly forgettable, which may be why I found few shots to include.

I'll give "Book Club" props in two areas. It's a testament to the power of friendship, no matter how unrealistic those relationships might have been. It would be lovely to think your friends would help you dress for a big date when you are in your '70s, then hide behind a curtain to watch what happens. Or would it? Although the actresses range in age from 65 (Mary Steenburgen) to 72 (Diane Keaton and Candice Bergen) to 80 (Jane Fonda), they make for a plausible quartet of friends from college days. 

Casting turned a blind eye to age. Jane Fonda is paired with Don Johnson, 12 years her junior in real life and Diane Keaton with Andy Garcia, 10 years younger. Another Hollywood moment!

You may notice a lot of wine in the photos. There is much drinking in this movie. Those glasses deserve a set decorator credit of their own.

Looks like fun off set as well.

Men We Loved: Anthony Bourdain

 
Can I write a piece about the late Anthony Bourdain under the aegis of a fashion blog?

I once wrote a post called, "I Write, I Shop, I Dress, and I'm Hungry for More" and thanked him for his catch phrase on "No Reservations" that I had co-opted. I mentioned that "Someday I must write about your amazing cool middle-aged dude look. You are AllWays in Fashion." That was six years ago. I never did get around to it.

Now comes the sad tribute to that very cool dude. He had one true determination of style: presence. Anthony Bourdain fairly jumped off a page or screen. Oozing intelligence and charm, fueled by curiosity and joy, he touched all of us in such personal ways. He always seemed a head taller than everyone and moved like a cat. He was able to be more unfiltered and "real" than we allow ourselves to be, especially in public and with strangers. Oh for an ounce of that self confidence!

This goes beyond what Anthony Bourdain taught us. And yes, weren't we along to learn something? I couldn't care about eating duck's eyeballs in Hong Kong, but I wanted to know what made that city tick, and I wanted to learn with the most remarkable of guides.

The fact that at 61 Anthony Bourdain was on his way to becoming the most impossibly cool old guy dude ever? Don't laugh, Anthony, though you may be looking down on us all and laughing just a little bit. We will miss everything about you.

Goodbye, Lord & Taylor

 
Not all the Lord & Taylor stores are closing, but the Fifth Avenue flagship at 38th and 39th Streets will be no more. This landmark building opened in 1914 and only last year underwent a $12 million renovation. It will soon house WeWork, a company that provides shared work spaces and services for freelancers and entrepreneurs.

Lord & Taylor has many distinctions. It was the first New York City department store, founded in 1826 by Mr. Lord and his cousin Mr. Taylor. In 1945 Dorothy Shaver became the first woman president of a retail establishment. Under her leadership Lord and Taylor was the first department store to open a suburban branch, setting the style for suburban shopping to come (and possibly the death knell of downtown).

 
Lord & Taylor holds some special memories for me. It was the first New York department store I visited—in 1950 when I was 8. This was an extravagant family vacation—we usually went to Chippewa Lake—and my first visit to New York. I remember impatiently sitting on a couch in Outerwear while my mother and older sister picked out winter coats. My father became increasingly agitated as he figured out what this was going to cost him. I could hardly wait to get to FAO Schwartz where I would spend the $10 I'd saved up.

As I became aware of fashion, art and the business of fashion (in roughly that order) I appreciated Lord &Taylor's advertising. They used illustration paired with the sophisticated swash of their hand lettered logo. The ads definitely had brand recognition.

Fifteen years later I'd be living in New York and working at "Glamour" Magazine. Lord & Taylor was close to the magazine's offices and convenient for lunchtime browsing, but it was never my dream palace of choice. Their offerings were tasteful and reasonably priced, but not exciting like Bloomingdale's or cheap and chic like Ohrbach's.

My mother had joined me to live in New York. After retiring as a secretary she took a part-time job in Lord & Taylor's lingerie department. She loved it, and the customers loved her. This was the first time I saw my mother as a person in her own right and not entirely orbiting around me. I would meet her occasionally for lunch in L&T's Birdcage Restaurant (tiny little tables and delicate little food).

Then as now 34th Street was more the shopping hub, as is Fifth Avenue from 50th to 57th Streets. Lord & Taylor was kind of an orphan, though everyone loved their Christmas windows.

Where are the remaining Lord & Taylor's? I just looked up the store search to find my nearest is 933 miles away in Oakbrook, Illinois. That's a long way to go for Christmas.

Life's Lost Little Luxuries #9: Swim Caps

A swim cap is not a luxury to a competitive swimmer who needs one to eliminate any iota of "drag" as she (or he) churns through the water. Once upon a time every girl and woman wore one, despite the fact that they didn't really keep your hair dry. They were pretty ugly, too—utilitarian white rubber helmets (with chin strap) purchased for $1.98 from the drug store.  

 
Then came "swim chapeaus", imaginative toppers designed to show off your compressed skull with  pizazz. They were all the rage in the 1950s, the cap of choice while enjoying the sand and sea or your local community pool.

 
These caps weren't cheap. It took a lot of baby sitting hours to save the $10. Mine was two shades of shaggy pink latex, similar to the one below. I was going for water sprite.

I loved Esther Williams' MGM musicals. Esther rarely wore a swim cap in her elaborately choreographed swimming routines. I wonder what they used on her head during those film sequences... bear grease??? She did sport a cute cap while frolicking with her children in her own (Esther Williams brand) pool.

You can find retro-style swim caps today, to be worn with a wink and a smile. They are colorful and fun. But the originals promised you would have the allure of a mermaid, or appear as a sea creature come to life. Keeping hair dry was completely beside the point.