What's a Picture Worth Anyways?

I don't always see the fashion in fashion magazines. I get bogged down looking at the models. They may still be way too young. Or they look too "exotic" with their tattoos, piercings and/or shaved hairstyles. I applaud the use of models of color, but they are sometimes treated like artful canvases and not the real women they are. I may recognize those minor celebrity models, but I couldn't tell you their names. I'm not even sure I enjoy seeing models I once loved (Amber Valletta, Christy Turlington) making guest shots, so to speak.

Never one not to come up with a solution, I have one. Why not bring back fashion illustration in a big way? Especially in this time of Coronavirus, why not protect everyone and use our imaginations?

Maybe it's just me, but I've always found it easier to see myself in an illustration than a photograph. I loved Betty Betz's teenagers from the 1940s and wanted to be one when I grew up (i.e. became a teenager).

Annabritta—I know nothing more about her than her name—illustrated Claire McCardell's "What Shall I Wear?" I've always wanted to look like those drawings, and I kind of think I do.

There have been many celebrated fashion illustrators, of course. The art deco Erte comes to mind, but his work and those of others of the period are dated, literally around 1926.

In the 1930s fashion illustration took a more natural turn. There were plenty of stars then too, on into the '50s and early '60s. Rene Bouché (below) was one. That's how I'd like to look reading a history book.

Fashion illustration can be realistic or fantastic. It can evoke a mood as much if not more than a photograph. We tend to see photographs in literal terms and give illustrations "artistic license".

Remember that J Peterman catalogue of "Seinfeld" notoriety? They sold a tremendous amount of product with simple illustrations and a lot of evocative text. The company is still in business and still uses illustration, but they add a touch of reality to their online site. I'm thinking, give me that old-time fantasy.

Photographers and their assistants, model agencies and their roster, hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists and studio owners might not be too pleased if illustrators starting working more. But what do you think? Might I just be on to something?

The Next Fashion Trend?

 
Almost five years ago I posted a blog on wearing scrubs outside the confines of a clinic or hospital. I bemoaned that the world was getting lazy, taking this comfort thing too far. I worried that wearing scrubs out and about was less than sterile, especially if you were on your way TO work rather than FROM. That post has had 32,740 reads.

I still worry about cleanliness, but my tune on scrubs has changed. Whenever I see anyone wearing them these days I want to salute or clap or whatever we are doing to honor our front line workers.

Some of my neighbors are doctors or nurses, by the way. When we greet (at a social distance) not one of them has complained or been fearful for themselves. It's as if, for our sake, the pandemic never happened. They are angels come to earth. They are the superheroes.

Not capes or sparkly leotards, scrubs are their heroic uniforms. Nowhere was this made clearer than in an oversized eight-page supplement recently with the Sunday's NY Times. It's an ad for a scrubs apparel firm called FIGS designed as a salute to these heroes in the field. The models are all young nurses or doctors who look like they could be models moonlighting in medicine. It's basically a salute that is an ad for scrubs, which is fine. It's beautiful and touches the heart.

No clearer could a mantra for today be than "You are what you wear". Scrubs, masks, hazmat suit, protective gear for any and every part of your body make you a warrior fighting an unseen enemy.
 
I almost considered adopting scrubs as my covid uniform. Heaven knows I'm trying to fight, obeying the rules to keep healthy and encouraging everyone to be safe. Scrubs are certainly wash-and-wear comfortable, non-judgemental and come in a nice selection of flattering colors.

FIGS' founders Trina and Heather

The FIGS brand was started in 2012 by Heather Hasson and Trina Spear with celebrity backing by Will Smith. They literally started selling out of their car as they gave away free coffee outside hospitals. FIGS uses soft, anti-wrinkle fabrics woven with silver ions for their antibacterial properties. I feel better already.

These can best be described as the Lululemon of scrubs. They are styled to fit and feature extras such as a pocket to hold your wedding ring. There is even a jogger style pant with a knit Yoga waistband. 

In the end I won't adopt scrubs as my uniform because I am in such awe of this army. I don't want to co-opt or corrupt their fighting gear. I dare not presume that imitation would be flattering. When I see that person in scrubs I will, however, be smiling. Under my mask.   

Quo Vadis, Fashion?

 
Lately I've been reading my stash of Glamour magazines from 1956-60, enjoying vintage-centric sites on Instagram and Facebook and playing with a reproduction set of Claire McCardell paper dolls. My subscription copies of Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, Elle, InStyle and Marie Claire sit unread in a tidy pile. Very thin these days, they don't take up much space.

I am someone who lived to love Fashion—the history of, the business of, the future of. Fashion to me is culture. I've no degree, but I consider myself a Fashion Anthropologist. The icing on the cake is I like to get dressed too.

All this time on my hands has made me wonder if fashion is even a thing anymore. I don't see where it's going, but then I'm not going anywhere either. Fashion has become nostalgia, remembering when it meant something to be dressed.

Once upon a time there were rules. With rules comes a certain relief. If you followed them you would be well dressed. If you broke them, you could claim you were asserting your personality (not unheard of even in the '50s). I remember reading that Audrey Hepburn once used a strap from a case of wine as a belt and thinking that was a genius I could ascribe to.

When anything goes, what goes with what? Think about it. What is there today that is "wrong"? Bra straps showing? That's okay. Dark bra peeking through sheer blouse? That's okay. Wearing a bra as outerwear? That's okay. Wearing no bra? Okay too.

Still not okay. Dodie Goodman in "Splash"

This is nothing new. Fashion has been on an "anything goes" trajectory for a very long time. At first I think many of us greeted that with enthusiasm and relief. Finally you could wear mismatched socks without anyone looking at you funny. But what fun is it to wear mismatched socks if everyone is doing it? 
 
Fashion was also ageless. Remember back, if you can, to the Jackie Kennedy 1960s, a style that lasted longer than JFK's brief tenure as President. I was in my 20s; my mother was in her late 50s. We didn't exactly dress alike, but you could tell we were from the same era. I could ditch the hat; she might have lower hems, but we were still "in style". It was an attitude; age alone was not a deterrent.

We all loved Jackie's style.

Forget that one can barely decipher what is "in" today. Much of fashion is aimed at the young, with a well intentioned invitation for all to play along. Thanks, but no thanks. And I don't think many of us, no matter what our age, really want to look like this:

Vogue, May 2020

Right now I question every item I have bought in the past ten years. That's how long I think fashion has been floundering. For the present I remain on Sheltering Island until the all-clear, when I can row back to civilization. Hopefully I will then look at my closet, 90% of it unworn for the past 125 days, and decide it all looks bright and shiny new again, as will the world. 

Don't Tread on My Hawaiian Shirt!

At least he's wearing gloves...

The New York Times this week reported a simmering phenomenon I wish they hadn't noticed. Members of alt-right groups called the Boogaloo Movement have adopted the Hawaiian shirt as part of their regalia. Their aim, besides trashing my husband's beloved shirts, is to inspire a second civil war. You can just imagine all the ugly things that entails.

I absolutely see no connection.

This has something to do with a 1984 movie called "Breakin 2: Electric Boogaloo", the word  mashed into "big igloo" and "big luau". So references to igloos and Hawaiian shirts represent the group's aims from civil libertarian rebellion to all-out race war. The Hawaiian shirt is even meant to be ironic, representing as it does a middle aged man's shirt of comfortable choice.  

As the wife of one of those middle aged men, I welcomed my husband adopting the uniform. They were more dressed up than a crew neck t-shirt and more original than a collared polo. Besides, the shirts were more flattering to his middle aged man shape, the one I probably fueled with too many homemade apple pies.

My husband has quite a collection of Hawaiian shirts now that he's even beyond middle age. One of his favorites cost $1.98 on sale at Sears. I love it too as it machine washes and tumble dries like a dream. Another favorite is a classy Ralph Lauren design, the first Father's Day gift our son chose and paid for himself. Who can deny my husband showing his team pride? Although this one is a dreadful rayon blend that wrinkles as you button it on. A Hawaiian shirt is the answer to How do I get him to look dressed up without making him put on long pants? In fact a Hawaiian shirt and long pants is too Miami Vice, and not in a good way.

The not-in-a-good-way way

The last thing my husband wants to promote is civil unrest. He's already put away red baseball caps. The Times wasn't clear whether the Hawaiian shirt can ever be reclaimed unless everyone starts wearing one. The best way to lick 'em may be to join 'em. Who knew camo looked so good with Hawaiian shirts? Just ditch the accessories.

Overdressed

Edith Head, Up Close and Personal

 
The National Arts Club will present an online "Afternoon with Edith Head" on June 30 at 3PM Eastern Daylight Time. Registration is free, and you can do it here:

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/an-afternoon-with-edith-head-registration-107597107846?aff=odeimcmailchimp&mc_cid=e67d2a0a39&mc_eid=6eea6e15db

The National Arts Club, out of New York City, has had a number of events called, "National Arts Club at Home" during this time of extreme social distancing. There have been a few fashioned-themed lectures such as this, with one on the history of tartans coming up July 14.

The genuine article

Edith Head has a fascinating life story, both the one she created and the actual one. She was the most famous costume designer in Hollywood's golden age, determined in no small part by tireless self promotion.

The National Arts Club will not just be presenting a lecture on Edith Head. She will be there, in the person of Susan Claassen, an actress who inhabits Edith with astonishing reality. That is her at the top of the page.

I've had the pleasure of seeing Susan's performance some years ago at a small venue. I was sitting thisclose to "Edith" and didn't doubt for moment that Edith Head, who died in 1981, had come to Houston for the day.

You don't have to know much about her to enjoy the visit. She will fill you in, trust me. 

Sleeping Beauty and Dr. Fauci

 
Dear Virginia, Jill, Suzy, Linda, Pat, Arnita, Sheila or whoever you are,

Yes, there is still Fashion.

As my mind is spluttering around these days Fashion is less like a letter to the New York Sun than a fractured version of the fairy tale "Sleeping Beauty". Fashion is the slumbering princess waiting for a shot in the arm from the handsome prince, Dr. Fauci. She will awaken (refreshed and looking ten years younger) with someplace to go and a reason to get dressed.

Man of my dreams...

With my real life on hold, I feel less like Sleeping Beauty and more like the troll who lives under the bridge. I have to believe that day will come. It breaks my heart to take little joy in what was one of my major life forces, up there with air, food and water.

I can't get excited about a wardrobe of masks to coordinate with my clothing. The only thing sadder than everyone wearing masks is that everyone isn't wearing a mask.
 
Still, I dream about what I might wear when I go...where? I check to see if my appetite perks up on some of my favorite shopping sites (not so much). I'll even try to snag a bargain or try something new.*  I do know getting dressed—not dressed up, just dressed—makes me feel better. There are so few reasons to do it and so little discipline to do it without reason. Please tell me I am not alone.

Day 91. Still healthy. Missing you all.


*I'm sorry to report the drawstring neck from the last blog's caftan is strangling me.

Come Back, Little Caftan

 
I may have finally figured out what bit of fashion excites me now (Day 73 of Coronavirus House Arrest). Athleisure—be it comfy sweats or Yogawear—has never been more than utilitarian, not a fashion choice for me. I want to get excited about something, but I can't foresee a time when I may actually be wearing a dress.

Jacqueline Bisset—timeless

What garment holds a bit of mystery, creativity, and comfort all in one? A caftan (or kaftan) was originally an ankle length garment with flowing sleeves worn by men and women in the Middle East. The style is thought to have originated in Ancient Mesopotamia. Kaftan is a Persian word. Similar styles of dress are the djellaba, abaya and burnouse, but in the West, "caftan" is generally used for all.

illustration by Diyali Sen Bhalla

 
Once an exotic souvenir brought back by intrepid 19th century world travelers, the caftan came into its own in the 1950s and '60s when it was adapted by French high fashion. Dior and Balenciaga showed versions as loose-fitting evening gowns or a caftan worn as a robe over matching pants. It became the jet-setter's style-du-jour, popularized by everyone from Talitha Getty to Elizabeth Taylor.

Talitha Getty

Liz—no last name needed

My clothing need of the moment is something to wear around the house while not gardening, cleaning, sorting or cooking. Something that will look as if I meant to put it on if the doorbell rings. I know it's only Amazon, but still, we dress to impress. Something that will play with my love of fashion during this stressful time, something a little "Let's pretend" and a little out of my comfort zone (while being way so comfortable).

It's a nice look to try out/try on. Besides a long kimono that I converted by sewing together the front, I just purchased this caftan from "& Other Stories" (one of the H&M brands). It's a nice mix of linen and cotton, so not too flimsy. It does, however, run huge.

On sale @$49

I'm not sure if I'm about to hit the street in a caftan.

 

My front porch with a cup of coffee might be as far as I dare travel.

Madame Gives a Shout Out...

 
...and a blatant plug, something that is not usually my intent.

Back in early April—you know, 20 months ago—Johnny Was, based in Los Angeles, was among the first to offer masks for sale. A pack of five, constructed from their signature prints, lined in cotton with a pocket for inserting a filter, cost $25. For every pack ordered, a pack would be donated to essential workers.

That to me is a win/win—something I needed from a designer whose lovely Boho tops, dresses and kimonos are a bit too pricey for me and an opportunity to help do good. Wait time was three weeks (now shortened to a week). I actually wondered if we would still need masks by then.

The masks arrived today, and I couldn't be more pleased. They are lovely, all different, all lined in a soft striped cotton. They are nicely pleated and finished. I sew, but I could never have the patience for that kind of detail.

Lined interior

The pocket allows you to insert a filter. I understand paper cone coffee filters work well. A few snips and you have it.

There are now three choices of designs. Cotton sateen prints or cotton sateen in neutral (unisex) prints are 5 masks for $25 or 50 for $250. Silk charmeuse prints are 5 for $40.

Cotton sateen prints

Cotton sateen neutrals

Silk charmeuse prints

For every pack sold Johnny Was will donate a pack to essential workers in hospitals and charities. They have donated over 300,000 masks so far.

I respect the spirit and the manner in which these are being offered. A card enclosed with my masks read in part, "We are grateful that during this unprecedented time, we are coming together stronger than ever and all doing our part to protect one another."

Besides, it was great fun to open the package and see what I got. Imagine my great joy and surprise when one print turned out to be leopard!

To Shop or not to Shop?

Pandemonium at a reopened TJ Maxx

 
This question depends on where you live, what has opened up or is on the verge of doing so.

I recently conducted a straw poll and received as many varied answers as you might imagine. We are presently living in an un-united state.

Target seems to be the store of choice, mainly because all locations have been open during the pandemic. I haven't been myself, but I understand they are at least putting some precautions in place, such as limiting the amount of shoppers inside. It's easy to grab-and-go at Target, to pick up no-brainers like t-shirts. Many don't mind trying on at home and returning.

There are those who would love to just poke around a store to see what's new, but that's mostly a pipe dream. I understand as my week always included a run through the neighborhood TJ Maxx and Marshall's, places where inventory can change daily. That risk doesn't seem worth taking.

Those were the days...

 
One respondent said she would feel more comfortable in a boutique, just not in a mall. That behooves boutiques, usually small-staffed, to take on extra precautions of cleaning and maintenance. This, I think, will be necessary for the sake of attracting business and appealing to customers who may trust such an atmosphere over the big stores.

I read a newspaper article where Macy's stated they will effectively set up a 48-hour quarrantine for clothing tried on in fitting rooms. If my local Macy's is any indication, "Apparel Jail" will not look any different from the massive pile-up of go-backs one usually encountered outside the fitting rooms. You know, the kind of stack you wouldn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole, let alone a six-foot.   

One answer from hard-hit New York City had a plaintive "if only". New York is wisely still locked down. Stay strong, New Yorkers. It's also tough to stay strong here in Texas where things seem to be opening up like a house of cards in the wind. It's hard to "do the right thing" when so many around you have other ideas.

Shopping online for the forseeable future is getting some takers. If you think about it the dangers are still there. Someone may have tried that on anyways. The person who packed your delivery may not have been wearing a mask or gloves or may even have, heaven forbid, sneezed into your button-down. Out of sight, out of mind I guess. Besides, does anyone really know how long these virus germs last?

Then there are thrift stores, from tony consignment shops to rummage sales. Who's up for those? At this point, when we have so much, sometimes thrifting is a justifiable form of shopping for entertainment. From "something to think about" to "I would wash it anyways", reactions are mixed. I am pretty sure if it were me there would be gloves.

One light bulb has gone off in many closets: I don't need anything; I have more than I need already; I have things I've never worn; where am I going anyways?

Which reminds me, if you haven't seen it, Turner Classic Movies is showing a delightful romantic comedy from 1945 starring Wendy Hiller as a headstrong young woman with some surprises coming to her, "I Know Where I'm Going". It airs Tuesday, May 26 at 12:15 AM Eastern. I'll be there.