Back to sewing!

Friends, thank you so much for your amusing and candid responses to yesterday's post about things you'll skimp on and things you won't.  I know more about you than I probably should (and vice versa), but what are blogs for if not unburdening ourselves to strangers and who doesn't like to talk about shopping?  It's a like a cross-country bus trip, but with better conversation and cleaner bathrooms.

Today I am committed to returning to sewing.  As you can see up top, my Featherweight is threaded, I've inserted a brand new #9 needle, and I'm all set to get started on my summer shirt, made with a lightweight, somewhat sheer lavender cotton (lawn?).  I haven't sewn much in the last few weeks and I'm eager to begin.



I've also rethreaded my Brother 1034D serger with light-colored thread; not sure I'll serge anything on this shirt but just in case...



Exciting news: Claire Schaeffer's Fabric Sewing Guide arrived the other day and it is an amazing resource -- so much more than I'd expected.  I'll certainly be writing more about it later on, but for less than $7 with shipping, it's a tremendous bargain.  Apropos of areas where we like to skimp, buying an older edition of a sewing book is usually a great idea.  Who cares if the photos are all from the Hatey Eighties?  In a few years, it's all going to look super cool again, trust me.









I wasn't expecting this book to be quite this large and heavy -- we're in doorstop territory.  I would love to spend a week alone with it with no distractions, and I may have my opportunity soon as my mother is being released from rehab early next week and I'll probably be spending the week with her.  I was thinking of bringing sewing supplies up -- and still am -- but I don't think I'm going to follow through; too much stuff.

Finally, readers, I watched another old (if you consider the Eighties old; I don't) movie, Pretty in Pink.  I don't know what I was expecting, but I was disappointed by what was essentially an ABC Afterschool Special about a poor high school girl falling for a rich high school boy; the same tired Cinderella story we've seen a million times.  Why is it that the girl is always poor and the boy is always rich and never the other way around?

And when did actors stop studying diction?  Big-screen mumbling is a pet peeve of mine.



There are a few cute performances and the period outfits are fun, but I think I'll skip Sixteen Candles.  Next on deck: Sex and the Single Girl, which I have a sinking feeling I'm going to hate.  The one essential ingredient of a Doris Day Sixties sex comedy is Doris Day.  As much as I like Natalie Wood...

Readers, that's all for today.  I am going to sew and I will report on my progress tomorrow.  I hope you're sewing or saving or something fun.

Pretty in Pink -- pretty awful?

Have a great day, everybody!

New Shoes and Old Movies

Friends, the cliffhanger is over -- my second-hand Allen Edmonds shoes arrived yesterday afternoon and I love them.

I've already worn them to walk the dogs and they are as comfortable as can be.  I don't know if this is because they've already been broken in by someone else, or because the fit is so good, but I know I'm going to be getting a lot of use out of them.  I even invested in a pair of cedar shoe trees, which, unfortunately, cost about half as much as the shoes, but what are you going to do?

I haven't talked about sewing projects in a while but I did want to share with you some fabric I recently purchased, a summery, lavender, slightly transparent cotton (voile?  I'm not sure -- I'm still waiting for my Claire Shaeffer fabric book to arrive), that I plan to use soon to make a shirt for myself. 



I've been getting a tremendous amount of wear out of my summer shirts given that the weather here has been extremely hot (though it's cooler today).  I've been meaning to write a post about which completed sewing projects I wear most frequently.  I do wear nearly everything I sew, and as old RTW clothes wear out, they get replaced with something I make.  Speaking of which, I need a pair of linen pants, both long and short, and I've been toying with the idea of an unlined seersucker blazer.

With the stresses of my mother's operation and hospital visits and all that, I've been self-medicating in the best way I know how: by watching bad old movies on DVD from the library.  These are not movies I share with Michael -- he'd never sit through them.  These are titles so obscure, so dated and so yawn-inducing, that only a true old movie connoisseur can appreciate them.   Oddly, the library is full of them.

I'd like to share a few with you today.

If you've never seen a Sonja Henie ice skating musical you really must.  Norwegian Sonja was a three-time Olympic gold medal figure skating champion in the 1920's and 30's and landed a long-term contract with 20th Century Fox, who produced a string of skating musicals to showcase her talents.  Unlike Sonja's swimming equivalent at MGM, Esther Williams, Sonja wasn't gorgeous, couldn't act, and often sounds like she learned her English lines phonetically.  Her figure skating technique, involving lots running on tip-toe across the ice, looks clutzy today, unlike Esther's classic backstroke.

One of Henie's last films was It's a Pleasure, her sole technicolor effort.  A dreary melodrama with a few skating numbers interspersed, it does boast some stunning Forties clothes, mainly worn by starlet Marie McDonald, who'd been famously dubbed "The Body."  How flattering.

Watch at your own risk.

I thought I'd died and gone to hell when I started watching the Joseph E. Levine production of Harlow starring Carroll Baker.  This movie -- one of two trashy Harlow biopics released in 1965 -- is a two-hour travesty, telling a completely fictionalized, sexed-up account of Thirties platinum blonde superstar Jean Harlow's life.  Splashy and over-produced, with a bossa nova-infused Neal Hefti (of Batman theme song fame) score that sounds nothing like the 1930s, Harlow gets it all wrong:  the story, the interiors, the hairstyles, the cause of death, you name it.

With one or two exceptions, all the characters have fake names, as does the studio where she works.  (Fear of lawsuits?)  See it for the Edith Head costumes that evoke Ginger on Gilligan's Island (where they probably ended up) more than Jean Harlow. 

I got through about five days' worth of Michael's Todd's Around the World in Eighty Days, which I remember seeing in re-release as a child.  This movie is a widescreen bore with Shirley Maclaine woefully miscast as an Indian princess supposedly educated in England, though her English accent is straight out of a community theater production of My Fair Lady.

Best enjoyed before bedtime, one day at a time.

Finally, there's A Date with Judy.

If you've ever seen clips of Jane Powell singing It's a Most Unusual Day, this is the movie where she sings it.  How much you enjoy this film depends on how you feel about sassy, spiritual-singing black maids and Carmen Miranda doing whatever you call what she did.  Carmen was a big hit here in the early Forties, but my understanding is that many Brazilians of that era were highly offended by her clowning.  Is it wrong to admit I always found her fun?

See A Date With Judy for the lavish color and lovely Helen Rose costumes and for the young Elizabeth Taylor, who can only be described as ravishing in it.  When you see her, you get what all the fuss was about.

Friends, we're out of time and I must away.  Have you seen any of the aforementioned turkeys and did they come with cranberry sauce?

What do we do with films that perpetuate ugly racial and cultural stereotypes yet still have -- arguably -- redeeming qualities?  I'm not sure, but I think at least a warning label is called for.

Have a great day, everybody -- or at least a most unusual one!  (click twice to see full screen)

Sound of Music Style - yea or nay?

Friends, yesterday MPB reader Eli commented on the similarity between dress pattern Butterick 8975 and something Julie Andrews might have worn in The Sound of Music.

Which got me thinking: why do so many of the costumes from this beloved 1965 film look like they were torn out of a mid-Sixties Simplicity pattern book, as opposed to accurately representing the styles of late-Thirties Austria, or the decidedly unglamorous Von Trapp singers themselves? 



First, though, a self test.  There are four levels of Sound of Music obsession.  For example, if I say:

The first three notes just happen to be...

You respond ________________.

This would categorize you as LEVEL 1.  Casual interest, no cause for alarm.

More serious would be if I say...

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu --

And you respond _________________.

We would diagnose this as LEVEL 2.  Serious, but not incurable. 

More worrisome is if I say....

I'd like to say a word in her behalf:

And you respond ______________. 

or ...

Do Mi Mi, Mi So So...

And you respond _____________. 

Definitely LEVEL 3.

Things get scary when we move into post-intermission reprise territory:

If I say... 

You may think this kind of adventure

Never will come to you...

You respond _______________.

In which case you are at LEVEL 4, and I can offer no hope.

But let's get back to fashion! I nearly fell off my zafu cushion when I stumbled upon this Sound of Music pattern original!

I mean, I would make those outfits today -- and for myself.  Wouldn't you?

Cathy and I both love a skin tight princess-seamed bodice over just about anything.  Longtime readers may remember my purchase of this pattern last year:

Even before 1965, similar looking one-piece jumper styles were very popular and perfect for a Do-Re-Mi sing-along.

Remember when Maria returns to the Von Trapps' after her brief retreat back to the abbey?

Isn't that basically View C in this Butterick pattern?

Remember Maria's fetchingly virginal leandler dance dress (the one the baron is so fond of)?

 

So very reminiscent of this...



The most fashionable character in The Sound of Music is Baroness Von Schraeder --  gorgeous in every historically inaccurate outfit she wears.

Lovely, but 1938?  I don't think so!

Her stunning evening gown is essentially a mid-Sixties sheath dress with some tulle.

How about this timeless hostess ensemble?  So cocktails at the club.

And then there's Liesl.  

Except for a little Tyrolean ruching in the bodice, is there anything about her dress that wouldn't work for a mid-Sixties sweet sixteen or Barbie and Ken soda fountain date?

The Von Trapp girls are always boasting little bows, headbands, and kerchiefs that scream early-to-mid Sixties tween.

 

We all remember the navy uniforms they wear early in the film...

Try these:

In closing, friends, what do you think of The Sound of Music style?  Are you eager to sew up a wool jumper, silk-blouse-and-midi-skirt cocktail ensemble, or heavy brocade play clothes?  Do you dream of wearing a poofy pastel dance dress and dancing around a gazebo with a man in uniform -- any uniform?  Are you shocked or charmed at the mid-Sixties-ness of it all?

Finally, if you could wear one outfit from the film, which would it be?  (Are you more Maria or the Baroness or someone else?)

Any Level 4's out there?  

Sound of Music style -- yea or nay?

P.S. - Traveling this weekend.  See you on Monday!

Style Wars: Ginger vs. Marlene

After digging around the vintage sewing blogs lately, I've noticed a surprising appreciation for the style of Ginger Rogers.

Casey's article last month about Thirties film fashion is an excellent example.

While Ginger is best remembered as Fred Astaire's dancing partner, she was a tremendously popular dramatic and light comedic actress in the late Thirties and early Forties, winning an Academy Award in 1940 for "Kitty Foyle." 

During Ginger's heyday, she embodied a classic film type: the shopgirl Cinderella -- tough, hardworking, no-nonsense, quick-witted.  Audiences connected -- and still connect -- with Ginger's ability to project both strength and vulnerability; there's a Depression-era weariness and, I believe, woundedness that lurks just below the surface that feels very real. 

Although she was sharp-tongued, Ginger wasn't brassy, like Lucille Ball; sarcastic and desexualized, like Eve Arden; or willing to play "the girl" or the sidekick, like Joan Blondell and Una Merkel (the latter playing the same types Ginger did in the early-Thirties but never getting promoted).

Oddly, Ginger's star began to descend relatively early, after a dreary performance as Liza Elliot in "Lady in the Dark," which I wrote about here.  Ginger never completely faded, however, and she was still turning up well into the Eighties on "Love Boat" and the celebrity talk show circuit. 

You see Ginger's persona best in "Stage Door," where as a working class dancer living at the Footlights Club,  she's forced to share a room with wealthy aspiring actress Katherine Hepburn.  Ginger gives a wonderful, wholly credible performance as tough-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside Jean Maitland.

Ginger wore clothes beautifully, and a lot of the costumes she wore in the late Thirties look almost contemporary today: the sporty rehearsal outfits, the tap pants, the day clothes, the soft, shoulder-length hair.

It's unfortunate that as her star ascended, Ginger became increasingly shellacked and mannered; less accessible and less loveable.  Compare Penny Carroll from "Swing Time" to Irene Malvern of "Weekend at the Waldorf."  Two very different Gingers!

The anti-Ginger was Marlene Dietrich.

Where Ginger was all-American, Marlene was exotic: the foreign accent, the langorous body, the seductive, sophisticated air, the decadent opulence.  Where Ginger worked as a dance instructor, shop girl, or radio actress, Marlene was an empress, an international jewel thief, a gypsy.

Ginger always looked modern; Marlene looked like a fetish object.  Marlene's style seems inaccessible today: the endless feathers, beads, and veils, the half-moon eyebrows and softly-shadowed facial contours.  The early films she made directed by Josef von Sternberg must be seen to be believed.  The art direction and costuming stun.

One of my favorite Marlene Dietrich films is Ernst Lubitsch's sophisticated comedy "Desire," co-starring Gary Cooper.

The gowns, by Travis Banton, with whom Marlene worked closely to create and maintain her glamorous image, are other-worldly.

One highlight below (with a lovely song by Marlene at 0:35):



You can wipe me up off the floor now!

What makes both actress's images so powerful and enduring is that these women played to type, again, and again, and again.  They worked for major film studios dedicated to maintaining a star's image for as long as the public would buy it.  When they left their respective image-defining studios (RKO for Ginger, Paramount for Marlene), they often struggled.  Times changed, too, and interest in their types either waned (as in Marlene's case) or shifted to younger actresses (as in Ginger's).

In closing, do you agree that Marlene is the anti-Ginger, or am I comparing apples and oranges?

Who, if anyone, are their modern descendents?

I'd love to hear from you.

Forties Fashion: "I'm Patricia Powwww-derrrr...."

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING FILM CLIP HAS BEEN KNOWN TO INDUCE NAUSEA AND VOMITING.  DO NOT WATCH IMMEDIATELY AFTER EATING.

From "The Dolly Sisters," starring Betty Grable.  Costumes by Orry-Kelly.

1915 has never looked more 1945.  

Movie fashion show for a frigid Sunday

And speaking of frigid...

From "That Touch of Mink," the movie that forever cemented Doris Day's (career-wrecking) image as the original 40-year-old virgin.  Gowns by Jean Louis.

TRIVIA QUIZ: Who's Doris's roommate's famous sister?

Forties Fashion: It doesn't get better than this, kids!

The supreme combination of 40s fashion show and musical extravaganza, the title number of "Cover Girl," starring Rita Hayworth. Gowns by Travis Banton. I'll take the gold dress.

Wow.

When movie fashion shows go TERRIBLY TERRIBLY WRONG

From the incomparable "Back Street," starring Susan Hayward. Gowns by Jean Louis. TRIVIA QUIZ: Can you name the seated dowager in the lavender cocktail ensemble?

BEST LINES:

HE: "Get out of that car or there'll be a scene you'll never forget -- right here!"

SHE: "Sounds fascinating! Give me a raincheck."

I love a movie fashion show...

..and this one is immediately followed by a glorious dance by Astaire and Rogers, from the film "Roberta."

Gowns designed by Bernard Newman, head costume designer at RKO Pictures.

TRIVIA QUIZ - Can you name the tall blonde in the feathered cape?