All Aboard for the Mini

The return of the mini has been giving me agita. I am way over 50 but know that when a trend becomes a style you better get on board or face being sent out to pasture like Tootle of Little Golden Books fame.

Tootle happy to go, me not so much

Alexandra Shulman, former editor of British Vogue, now writes for the Daily Mail and posted this guide to the "New Mini After 50". She's seen what Balmain and Dior (as well as others) have shown for 2022 and predicts the mini is back. How not to look like mutton dressed as lamb?

 
Alexandra's tips (in her words):

> A simple shaped skirt with nothing frou-frou allows us to experiment with the silhouette on top. A balloon-sleeved shirt tucked in and belted is a great option. In the evening simply unbutton and add a necklace or statement earrings.

> Long blazer jackets (belted if you wish) are the modern pairing rather than anything with a whiff of the cropped boucle jackets of the 1980s, while a roll, funnel or simple crew neck is an easy option, again kept long and crucially loose. This is not the time to embrace the embonpoint (aka your bosom).

> I would aim for neutrals—navy, white, black—and consider textures such as suede and leather which add sophistication. Bold prints can also be terrific, but avoid anything too ditsy, such as a pastel floral. 

> The model above is 51 and wearing dark semi-opaque tights (very dense black can look a trifle frumpy), but for evening try a pair of patterened sheers...which add an elegant glamour when teamed with a simple black top and skirt.

> Teenagers pair theirs with Doc Martins, but rebel-cool is a hard one to pull off past a certain age. Low-heeled leather boots are better...or a block-heel square-toed mule. High, spiky heels are best avoided.

What will happen when we hit Summer and tights will be out of the question? I'm not throwing away my favorite midi skirts just yet...

Adieu, André Leon Tally

That would be adieu, a final goodbye, not au revoir, a see-you-again-soon. André Leon Talley held a master's degree in French studies so would appreciate the difference. He died yesterday at age 73 in White Plains, New York. 

There will be many deserved tributes to and assessments of him. Much will be written of Andre's life, his backstory, his rise to a position of great influence in fashion, his fall from favor while still retaining a mythical aura. He was six foot six and of a closely-guarded overweight (couldn't have been healthy) and was clearly the center of attraction in any room.

André at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts

Some celebrities are like that. They command attention without saying a word. If you are ever in their presence you never forget it. I felt that in an auditorium with Muhammed Ali. I imagine JFK and Elvis had it. I've written about my non-dinner with André before:
https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/4573099143532398301/1017913522796430066
He came to Houston as curator of an Oscar de la Renta exhibit and sat for an interview with Clifford Pugh in 2017. We were in the first row (and why not?). The lights dimmed, and he appeared, sitting. He never rose to leave until the auditorium was empty. Walking was very difficult even then.

He was a trailblazer for equality who wore no sandwich board. One would, of course, ruin the look of his caftan. He never campaigned for it but his unique world view proved diversity is the crucial spice. I can only imagine these last few years were difficult ones. He was not a man who would enjoy prolonged isolation, despite his claims he was happy puttering around his house in White Plains, just north of New York City. He's been missed and he will be forever missed. 

Adieu, cher André

The Stuff of Dreams?

Just as I'm watching old episodes of "Mad Men", along comes the January 2022 issue of Vogue (shivering in at 92 pages), with Olivia Wilde on the cover in a black bra and high-waisted black skirt by Michael Kors Collection. I was looking for the tagline, "I dreamed I hitch-hiked through the desert in my Maidenform bra."

The successful Maidenform ads are referenced in the second season of "Mad Men" when their (fictionalized) competitor Playtex wants the (also fictional) ad agency Sterling Cooper to dream up a similar new campaign for them. In the '50s and '60s those ads were everywhere, from news weeklies like "Life" to fashion glossies like, well, Vogue. They were so numerous over time they almost seemed to parody themselves:

Etc., etc. etc.

"Mad Men" is a rather bitter indictment of advertising agencies and their cavalier attitudes toward promotion. Almost exclusively run by men in the 1950s, they didn't seem to care as much about giving women what they wanted as telling them this is what they were desperate to have. 

I long assumed those Maidenform ads were cooked up by a lecherous crew of "boys" on Madison Avenue, but the origins were more innocent. Harry Trenner was an account executive for Maidenform at Weintrob Advertising in NYC. He and his wife Florence were sitting around the kitchen table in their New Rochelle home when they came up with the idea, probably laughing all the time. The outlandish premise seems like a variation on going to school without your underwear, nightmare fodder when I was a kid. The client bit and ran with it for many years.

The cover of Vogue is no laughing matter. This one was shot by star photographer Annie Lebovitz. Ms Wilde appears in another "bralet" (combo of "bra" and "bracelet"?), wearing an outfit in your basic chartreuse Gucci-logo satin. Yes, it's hard to take this stuff seriously, but I continue to be very, very worried. Sooner or later some mortal will, to be followed by many willing mortals who shouldn't.

 
Another feature was an oversized brown leather Prada motorcycle jacket shown in 14 photos on Emily Ratajkowski. No price was given but others on the Prada website were $6,000. Will I now have to crawl around the attic hunting for my 1980s Schott leather jacket? I know it's there somewhere. Maybe I could do it in my Maidenform bra...

Stylish Read: "Miss Dior"

Forget the idea that "Miss Dior" will be a gentle romp through the House of Dior with some fond reminiscences of Christian's sister Catherine. It's more, so much more.

"Miss Dior" begins with family history. The Diors were upper middle-class—Papa Dior owned a fertilizer factory. Catherine, born 1917, was the baby of five. The Diors lost their fortune in the '29 crash and following economic downturn. By the early '30s Catherine and Christian, devoted to his 12-years-younger sister, were living together in Paris. Christian owned an ultimately unsuccessful art gallery and later worked as a couture design assistant. He and Catherine had briefly tried farming in the south of France. In 1939 Christian was called up to serve in the army while Catherine returned south.

France was invaded by the Nazis in 1940 and fell quickly. Hindsight being 20/20, its capitulation avoided much death and destruction. The country was divided into Nazi-occupied territory in the north and French-ruled territory in the south under a puppet government.

Christian, now out of the army, returned to Paris to resume his fashion career. Catherine had joined the Resistance and moved back to Paris. In 1944 she was arrested and deported to Germany, where she was a prisoner at the women's concentration camp, Ravensbruck.

Those are just the bare facts. This book is not for the faint of heart. The first half of "Miss Dior" is a searing reminder of the atrocities of WWII. Both fascinating and horrifying, it is history that forever haunted those who lived it. The French have never been comfortable discussing WWII. The Nazis demanded full loyalty from the conquered, but establishing the difference between cooperation and collaboration is a struggle for France even today.

Catherine shortly after WWII

This is only a  pencil-sketch-on-tracing-paper biography of Catherine Dior. She chose to remain in the background of Christian Dior's couture life, although they were always close. Catherine never spoke to anyone about the Resistance. Her strength and silence were respected. She must have suffered horribly under the terrible conditions in Ravensbruk, and she never forgave the Germans. She didn't marry and had no children. She was hardly a fashionista, though Christian presented her with clothing from each collection. She did, however, wear "Miss Dior" every day, even while gardening. Her extensive gardens produced the flowers used in production of the perfume. It's a wonder Justine Picarde was able to breathe life into her story, which she does by extensively quoting from memoirs and remembrances of those who knew her during and after the war. 

The "New Look" of 1947

"Miss Dior" is also very much Christian Dior's story. The "New Look", his first collection as an independent couturier, debuted in 1947 and revolutionized fashion. It also drove Chanel up the wall. His romantic, feminine looks required major undergarments to buttress and truss a woman's figure to meet his hour-glass ideal. Chanel had spent decades convincing women to move freely in their clothing. Women were ready for a heady dose of femininity after the many years of privation, and Dior's New Look was a smash hit.

I now realize Dior is probably responsible for the tortuous padded bras, long-line shapers and girdles of my 1950's young womanhood.

Dior and house model, early '50s

Dior died unexpectedly in 1957, barely ten years after his successful debut. You could say the rest is history because we fashion-impressed pretty much know the story of the House that follows (Yves St. Laurent, et al). Catherine died in 2008, having carefully watched over Christian's legacy.

This a very personal biography as Justine Picarde has her own story to tell. The journey to remember Catherine helps to remember her own sister, who tragically died young. As biographies go this is a writing style I haven't encountered before, but it works.

In fashion terms these elements shouldn't make an outfit, but Justine Picarde weaves them into a tale well told.

Yes, Catherine wore it, always