Fashion facts and fabulously kitschy clothing.
You’ve heard of safety shoes, right? Well, here’s a safety bra straight out of the history books of home front WWII.
Via The U.S. National Archives at Flickr, the original caption reads: Safety garb for women workers. The uniform at the left, complete with the plastic “bra” on the right, will prevent future occupational accidents among feminine war workers. Los Angeles, California. Acme, ca. 1943.
This vintage circle skirt with a Hawaiian tropics pattern featuring topless women amuses me.
This also serves are a reminder for you to check out Here’s Looking Like You, Kid‘s circle skirt history lessons — especially the expose on why the poodle skirt was the first “too young for you” fashion. Here’s my favorite quote:
The poodle skirt craze among teens is often attributed to those new rock n roll dances; teens found the big circle skirts enchanting while dancing. But it’s quite probable that mom & dad preferred their Kitten to wear a longer full skirt that hid at least part of her figure (especially when stuffed with crinolines and petticoats to prevent anything more being seen) to the more fitted along the hips structured fashions; watch Kitten’s skirt swing, not her hips sway. *wink*
(Of course, the irony was that fuller skirts looked like fuller, more womanly, hips and that boys dreamed of ladies’ underthings, so…)
But let’s not overlook the marketing machine in all of this either…
That’s what PACT, a new underwear company that launched yesterday says.
According to their website marketing & press releases, at the core of PACT are “deep partnerships” with nonprofit organizations that work to create social and environmental change; each underwear collection is aligned with a nonprofit, with 10% of each sale given to support the matching organizations. “Internationally recognized artists and designers create graphic visualizations of each organization’s mission with underwear as their canvas” — with Yves Behar behind the first collections.
“In building PACT, we re-thought everything about the way underwear is made and marketed,” said Behar. “We’re not doing anything artificial or superficial, not with the body, not with the packaging and not with our partnerships. Our vision is to unite fashion and design with doing good in an authentic way, building a company that truly embodies 21st century needs, showing a new way for businesses to operate in the future.”
Unless, say, that business is in the United States…
Beginning with the farmers and ending with the final package arriving at your door, PACT strives to be as environmentally and socially responsible as possible. The farmers and cotton pickers involved in the growing and harvesting of the organic cotton were paid a fair price for their product. All fabric is dyed and printed using dyes and inks that are low-impact and free of heavy metals. Before it is shipped to PACT’s fulfillment center in Illinois, every element that goes into making your PACT underwear – growing the cotton, processing and spinning it, knitting or weaving, dyeing and printing, and cutting and sewing the final garment – occurs within a 100-mile radius in Turkey.
This is truly a regional manufacturing model that vastly reduces the carbon footprint of our supply chain. In fact, by manufacturing with a regional supply chain in Turkey and shipping the product in bulk to the US, our overall environmental impact is smaller than if we tried to manufacture the same product with a geographically fractured supply chain in the US.
I don’t mean to be a party pooper, but it seems to me that it would be most beneficial for “a company that truly embodies 21st century needs,” giving percentages of sales to US nonprofits, to have that company make their product in the US. Claims that this cannot be done in the US due to a “geographically fractured supply chain” are met by me with by assertions that there are many areas in the US (hello former textile towns!) which once did such things & would, especially in this economy, be only too happy to do so again.
Would it cost money to revamp old buildings? Yes. But it couldn’t be any worse than the cost of using the new colonialism of business abroad — until you factor in the long term wage differences. And that’s the key, isn’t it. That’s why you’re not peddling your fantastic “green” undies to people in the same 100-mile radius in Turkey — with the matching local nonprofit organizations, of course — because they probably couldn’t afford it on the low wages you pay them.
And are these really “green” undies? You want to make everything so green & wonderful over there — and then ship it here via freighter. (Didn’t we learn anything about the carbon footprint of shipping “green” cars & batteries?) Besides, once it gets to the docks, it’s gonna have to be trucked to Illinois, and then to individual homes.
See the problems here?
Change may indeed start with your underwear; but I think, especially in a case where you’re boasting of such a new way to do business — and green business too, that you’d be better to invest in the people & communities where you expect to sell your product. That’s sustainability. Of your target market, your company, & the planet.
This misleading use of Carmen Miranda’s name and garb is simply a means to lure you in and have you read & participate in the following news:
Today, thanks to the generous sponsorship of Twolia, Alessia of Relationship Underarm Stick is participating in the Hope For Healing blogathon, raising awareness of domestic violence & money for supporting victims of domestic violence. You can help too: Comment at, link to, & Tweet her blogathon posts!
Use of Carmen Miranda costume is also a promise-slash-threat: Failure to read & participate in the following news, shall invoke the powers of moi — I shall show up at your home at 4 A.M. loudly impersonating Ms Miranda. I warn you, I neither dance nor sing so keen; your neighbors will not be happy.
So exercise your (albeit, twisted) Carmen Miranda rights — to be free of my impression of the lovely lady — and participate in the conversation about domestic violence. All jokes aside, it matters.
Via Shop It To Me, I found this Jersey Tassel Necklace on sale at Urban Outfitters. Totally 80’s, right?
Holy 80’s! I remember these suede mini skirt sets with short jackets long on fringe from Wilson’s from my days working in the mall. I somehow managed not to spend my paychecks on them; but I do remember wanting to… Must have spent all my surplus at the stores I was working in *wink*
Ah, the fashion Molotove cocktail that is fringe meets acid wash denim — explosive!
I think all my friends had jean jackets like this. Not me; I had — and still do — a very large bustline and short jackets with fringe not only fit funny (once large enough to cover The Girls, they were too long to be a short jackets), but the fringe actually hid my rack. I just looked sort of lumpy & top-heavy in a bad way.
And this last one may indeed be least… We called shirts like these “stripper shirts” — not because of the little strips of fabric with beads on them, but because of the little bit of fabric that was nearly enough to cover you breasts. That and, obviously, you looked more than a bit like a stripper teasing “the goods” — if you bought her a drink would it have the same results as if you stuck a buck in the waistband of her jeans? Oh wait; most men think that anyway. I guess this fringed beaded tee was just the sort of fashion statement that had we ladies thinking like men.
Black Michael Jackson printed in white on black nylon panties.
The Thriller album pose, along with Jackson’s signature, all printed on the fanny… The ultimate compliment?
Back in the day, you couldn’t go to a mall and avoid a visit to (or the smell of) the t-shirt shop.
There you could select your t-shirt style (ringers were de rigueur, but then the baseball shirts with contrasting sleeves came in — oooh!), get your size, choose a color, pick out the funkiest iron-on, and even have it all personalized with letters (including glittery & puffy versions) spelling out your name.
Ah, those were the days, my friend…
Sure, now you can use your computer to design your own graphic and print it out at home on some iron-on paper and iron it on yourself (if you even own or can find your iron), but it’s not the same.
Don’t argue with me; it’s not the same, I tell you!
The 70’s were the Golden Age of Iron-Ons.
There were rock iron-ons, iron-ons with drug references and slang (that you had to be cool to ‘get’) — all sorts of stuff.
But the best, the most memorable, were the risque & down-right lewd t-shirts which had designs running the polarized gambit of responses to women’s liberation. You had sexist men, trying to exert their dominance through sexual bravado, sometimes cloaked as jokes, one one end; and on the other end, women trying to make their point that they were equal & could be dirty too.
I’m not sure that Typists Do It Sitting Down was exactly liberating or showing support of the ERA (more likey to feed the naughty secretary mythology), but, hell, they were worn by the libbers at PTA meetings — I mean literally worn at PTA meetings.
Sometimes a chauvinist pig & a demonstrating libber had on the same shirts. Was “Sex is Like a Bank Account, as soon as you make a Withdrawl, you lose Interest” supposed to be sex positive? Or was it ironic? You didn’t always know…
I’m pretty sure a lot of the adults wearing them didn’t know either.
It was confusing.
I’m sure part of the reason so many of these iron-ons and finished tees were seared into my brain as if the press-iron had melted the plastic goo-graphics into my brain had a lot to with my age.
Being a teen-aged girl standing behind a guy who’d just made/bought a “mustache rides” tee — who smiled at you just a little too long — makes you understand the classless menace even if you don’t know what that sort of ride is… And then, when a friend’s older sibling tells you what it means, you die another special little death.
Ah, good times.
But what’s really surprising is to look at what’s left of these original retro iron-ons and realize just how many you don’t understand. It’s not just that I don’t recall seeing them before; I honestly don’t understand them.
Like “LAB Large American Breasts” — was that for men or for women? The nipples on the ‘B’ indicate, a large American no. And was “LAB” supposed to be a parody of another LAB? The League of American Bicyclists? The Liberation Army… Uh. I don’t know.
Maybe it’s just as simple as men boasting they wanted big breasted women & I’m over thinking it.
But what about this? If “The more I know MEN… The better I like my DOG” was an iron-on for woman to wear, does that mean “The More I Know Women… The Better I Like My PUSSY!” was for men? Um, that iron-on doesn’t really transfer — the concept, I mean (I’m sure the image went/goes on a shirt fine). …There aren’t any rainbows or triangles to signify any LGBT significance.
Maybe I’m just too obtuse. Or too cerebral… This was the 70’s. I probably shouldn’t expect a lot.
But I want to add these iron-ons to my collection. That way, as usual, I’ll have some time to ponder the individual messages and their part in the collective message — and maybe that will help me make more sense of it all. Maybe.
You know you need this jumpsuit to star in your own wild, buxom, Russ Meyer-esque, adventurous life.
OK, I know I’ve posted a couple of times already today; but while unwinding from writing a really in-depth post of the non-frivolous variety (hence the necessary unwinding frivolity), I spotted this 1930’s dress with an amazing vintage penguin print & I just had to show it to you! How could I not?
I was reminded the other day (details to follow) of Christopher Titus & his stand-up bit
But the point of Capri pants is not to make you hate yourself for not being able to mold yourself into the (physical) ideal of Hepburn (Audrey, not Kate; Kate eschewed skirts and wore tailored “men’s” pants and was far more shocking than fashion-trend-setting Audrey) — Capri pants were supposed to be liberating.
Frankly, the discernible characteristics between Capri pants and peddle pushers (and, sometimes, leggings & stirrup pants — hello, 1980’s!) are few and fuzzy. I’m not just talking about fabric pilling on the knit versions either. Strictly speaking, Carpi pants are supposed to be a tad shorter and looser than peddle pushers, but for the sake of this post I won’t split hairs, except to give credit where credit is due — and the credit for peddle pushers goes to designer Lynn Eccleston in the 1940’s. Eccleston experimented with shortening the legs of women’s slacks and the sporty look caught on with active women who, like those who abandoned their corsets in at the end of the 1800’s, wanted more ease in riding bicycles — thus the term “pedal pushers.”
Some credit Mary Tyler Moore for making the pedal pusher and other pants fashionable; others prefer to cite Audrey Hepburn. Technically speaking, Audrey sported pants in the 50’s while Mary’s Laura Petrie didn’t hit small screens until the 60’s.
But for our purposes of discussion today, it’s tomato tomato — not tomato tomatoe — because both babes had figures to carry off the slim look.
And this, my friends, is the reason for the, “Yer momma wears Capri pants” slur.
Most women wearing pedal pushers have stopped pushing pedals. If they continued the liberating exercise of exercising, they wouldn’t end up being the (wide) butts of Titus’ jokes. Even the middle-age spread would limit itself to some thickening of the torso, rather than the pear and apple shaped figures most now have. (And even liberal use of sunscreen wouldn’t keep us pasty-cankle bound.)
But, by & large, we’ve stopped pushing pedals; now we’re just large. And so maybe we should stop wearing peddle pushers and Capri pants. No, not even with the “over-sized” tees, sweaters, and tunics we think hide all the problem areas. (Notice where Mary Tyler Moore’s sweater sits; she doesn’t need to hide hips, belly or behind.)
I don’t wear Capri pants or pedal pushers, but I know why other women do. Like Titus said, they are neither shorts nor pants, so they seem to provide the middle of the road not-too-formal, not-too-casual fashion needs for summer. And if we had more choices, like we did in the 70’s and 80’s for light-weight colored denim and cotton pants, maybe we’d feel less pressed to push ourselves into unflattering butt-widening, cankle-baring pants. (Back then you could find warm-weather friendly pants in shades of watermelon, sunny yellow, every shade of Caribbean azuree inspired blue… Far more then today’s white & navy.)
OK, and some women wear these shorter length pants to show off their shoes. (And yes, Titus is right, this does include cork wedges.)
But mostly Capri pants are worn for physical comfort; not to be posing like the pedal pushers we aren’t.
What started me thinking about all this was spotting a young man at an outdoor event last week. In a display of teenage fashion defiance, he was wearing all black — from head-to-toe in the sweltering high temperatures. Following the solid, if somewhat wash-faded, black line of t-shirt to canvas belt to jeans, I was jerked to a stop at the wide folded denim cuffs at his calf where a 4-6 inch wide white swatch of pasty mid-west skin glowed glared behind its decorative tufts of hair. From there, more black: black socks over the edge of comically huge black combat boots. Seriously, clown shoes are smaller.
Between the heat, the black clothing, & the weight of those shoes, he half-crawled to his seat where he tried to make it look like he was nonchalantly sprawling himself instead of, as he was, stumbling towards & falling to a seated rescue.
The only thing that kept me from bringing him some water to revive him was the knowing look his white Capri pants wearing, non-heatstroke affected mother and I shared. (And then I had to turn away and make a non-related animated conversation with hubby so that I could release my held laughter.)
My point is, if you missed it and insist that I have one, is this: He was a poser, hiding behind his costume.
If over-weight women are to be mocked for exposing their least flattering sides (physical attributes and the attitudes which created them), then I feel the need to point out the ridiculousness of faux poser cool melting in the sun.
So the next time you want to mock someone’s momma for wearing Capri pants, be sure you & yours are not equally guilty of some fashion posing; I assure you, your sacrifice of comfort (and health) is no more flattering and it is equally noticeable.
And while we’re talking about such things, let me say, “Get on your bike and ride it!” Whatever you’re wearing, you’ll look & feel better for it.
Fashion Girls fabric, for those who can’t wear enough fashion.
In the 80’s, I worked in the cosmetics area of a department store — but not just for any cosmetics brand, it was Estée Lauder; and not just any department store either, it was Marshall Fields. Hence I had a lot of training, including district training sessions, which meant traveling to or training with people outside of Milwaukee.
One of my first large training sessions I learned that Milwaukee was famous for more than being America’s Dairy Land, known for more than the land of beer & brats and its associates sports teams; Milwaukee had a bad rap beauty wise.
The other Lauder beauty advisers teased us all for having named a particular type of customer after our area. These customers were those who were stuck in a decade or two prior to the one we were all living in now — most commonly seen as the swipe of blue eyeshadow across the lid. This 1974 Aziza Eyes ad illustrates the look.
This look began in the 60’s & had a resurgence in the 70’s, so it was completely dated in the 80’s, prompting the other Lauder girls (mainly those from Chicago who kept looking down their powdered noses at “small time” Milwaukee — grrr) to dub the beauty faux pas “Milwaukee Blue.”
If this post serves any purpose it is to remind you that many of those cosmetic girls are indeed talking about you & your dated makeup look.
I suppose “Milwaukee Blue” has left the vocabulary of most women in the beauty business by now… Which makes me wonder what the latest local beauty slur is.
At my other blog hubby & I do a quasi-regular feature called “Craft-Scan Fridays”, so I was digging ’round in my old crafting magazines. This lead to a vast number of possible posts — and, being too eager to wait & schedule them all out for weeks & weeks, I thought I’d share one here.
This gem on how to make nylon corsages from old nylon stockings, pantyhose & other hosiery comes from The Workbasket magazine (the June 1952 issue).
It fascinates me for several reasons.
One, the long history of recycling ladies’ hosiery. You may recall such things from war efforts, but this was also a huge arts & crafts fad in the 70’s. The notion of recycling appeals; but the irony of using fabric that’s been on your feet, possibly next to your sweaty crotch, to make flowers is inescapable.
Two, check out the nice ad placement for All-Fabric Tintex (which, by the way, is still around
Instructions from Barry at 3stylelife for making your own “Modified bear” Radiohead Logo t-shirt with just simple household objects — and a clean “blank” t-shirt, of course.
Now, be careful; there’s a monster at the end of this post…
Couture Allure shows how to stretch your wardrobe with a vintage sheath dress.
Debutante Clothing introduces Vintage Style Muse Helsinki Pinup, Freelancer’s Fashionblog.
Glamoursplash has a customer win a prize in a vintage beach bathing beauty contest.
Here’s Looking Like You, Kid talks about the history of rompers & playsuits.
The Bobbypin Blog shows us how to get a fingerwave look like Keira Knightley.
Things Your Grandmother Knew has tips on darning stockings.
Now, here’s the monster at the end of the post!
Just a collection of what I’d call A-Nesting Fashion Hats — “bad bird hats,” if you prefer. Enjoy — and don’t have chicken for dinner. *wink*
And remember kids, a dead bird in the hand is worth two on your head!
Vintage hat photos via myvintagevogue, freeparking, solanah, and chiesavecchia collection’ at Flickr.
A very popular ad in 1950’s women’s magazines; I don’t think you could actually buy the female torso tho.
Debutante Clothing shares interiors based on Cecil Beaton’s 1950s fashion sketches.
Glamoursplash provides a roundup of vintage swimwear resources.
Here’s Looking Like You, Kid shows us pages from a vintage lingerie catalog.
Holly Gab brings an aura of intrigue and mystery to this vintage ’70s country club dress.
The Bobbypin Blog tells us how makeup effected minorities in early cinema.
The Vintage Traveler introduces her article on vintage golf clothing.
Things Your Grandmother Knew shares vintage tips on how to care for your books.
Chilean designer Alexandra Guerrero’s Mantis line of fashions were inspired by the burning question of what to do with the vast amounts of cigarette butts strewn about in the City of Santiago Chile.
These are not toxic textiles; according to an interview with the designer at GreenMuse, the garments are made of 90% sheep wool and 10% purified cigarette butts:
The purification process begins with the cigarette butts going through autoclaves (a pressurized sanitation process). They are then washed in a solvent; they go through the autoclave again, are rinsed and dried, and, finally, are shredded to create a wool-like material. The resulting liquid byproduct is also being donated to be tested as a biological insecticide for plant pest control.
The percentage of recycled cig butts is hoped to be increased once it become more financially feasible.
Guerrero has cleaned and recycled about 5000 cigarette butts and designed a dress, a vest, a poncho, and a hat even some soap. Currently, the only way to purchase the items, viewable at her blog, is to contact her via email at mantis.yea @ gmail.com.
And I don’t mean in that sexy lingerie way that Slip of a Girl talks about. This retro nightie & matching robe are so wild and bright the loud the noise would keep everyone in house up at night!
Sing it like Rick Springfield, y’all: “Oh, I wish that I had Miriam’s beau bow.”
Vintage photo of Miriam Hopkins.
It’s true; even for a clear rain bonnet with a bit of blue.
(Of course, once you go black…)
*****
Anyway…
Now that I have your attention, I’d like to mention a few other things I found this week…
Two great things that go great together: Matadors & Black Velvet.
Now together again… On clothing? Yes! Check out this vintage 1950’s souvenir skirt, with sparkles even!
You can totes say “Ole!” to the men who charge at you now, and brush them aside with your skirt. Just don’t get any blood or other man-stuff on the skirt though… It isn’t terribly troublesome to get blood of sequins, but it will stop the sparkle until you do.
This inspires me to buy velvet and make my own black velvet painting skirt… But I’ll need to practice painting Elvis first. Ooh, and Jesus too. Maybe I can paint a black velvet skirt with Elvis & Jesus! Of course, I’ll need some nice wooden platforms to go with it.
*****
In contest news, you can bloody Win a Living Dead Jason doll — Signed By Damien Glonek!
Collectors’ Quest is giving away one autographed LLD of Jason from Friday the 13th figure. Here’s what you need to do:
1. Given that we’re a site about collecting, we’re looking for the most original concept about what Jason might collect. Please submit your photos, jpegs, videos and pdfs to f13contest@collectorsquest.com
2. Nothing sexist or racist will be allowed. All entries will be displayed on the site and will become property of Collectorsquest.com
3. Deadline is March 31st. Winner will be selected thereafter
To dress with the Great Taste Of Lymon, begin with the (sub)lime…
And then the lemon goes under – underpants!
I guess the lemon’s to cut the fishy taste?
Ah, it’s a joke; don’t go spraying lemon-scented Pledge in your underpants.
Then again, I don’t want to get into your polishing habits.
It’s fab when you can begin a post with a soda pop culture reference and end it with totally tasteless, err, inappropriate jokes.
Did you just figure it out too? Boast with this pop art pendant!
I paid 50 cents for this fragile old piece of paper mocking a woman for the way she dresses. (At first glance, I was certain it was mocking the man; but the ape proffers a red dress with white hearts.) I’m not sure why I had to have it; but I did.
when you walk by
people GAPE —
who picks your clothes
a CROSS-EYED APE?
It’s funny, in that simple childlike rhyming playground mockery sort of a way. And I just love the illustration. Certainly someone saved it all these years — charmed by it for all the reasons I am. But I have no idea what this fragile piece of old paper is supposed to be…
Was it a page in a book? While there’s no printing on the reverse, it’s possible; sometimes illustrations (especially those with color) had single pages to themselves (these are called “plates”).
If it comes from a book, what was the book about? Just a silly joke book? Or was it a silly page illustrating one point in the text?
Were there more pages like this?
Did the original owner find the page loose and save it? Or did they tear it out themselves?
Or maybe it’s not from a book at all. Only the right edge of the paper seems to be without nibbles, cuts and other imperfections — suggesting this is not the original size. Maybe it was an advertising or promotional piece… Some sort of flyer, an advertising circular, whose product &/or company name have been cut away by an original owner who liked the joke &/or illustration.
Then again, there’s all those hearts… Was this some sort of Valentine’s Day themed thing?
Since there is nothing else on the paper to identify it, no artist credit, date or other copyright or publishing credit, I may never know what this paper was originally intended to do or where it comes from. But, like the heavy crease lines from folding which have begun to tear, it doesn’t decrease the value to me. Not just the 50 cents I paid or even the thrill of research to figure it all out (I am geeky like that), but the fun of looking at it. The joke still works, after all these years.
I have a weakness for red velvet — it may not be kitschy, but when you wear so much of it, you run the risk of looking like a flocked Valentine. Not that I care.
Wrap yourself (and whatever’s not covered in red velvet) up in this red velvet cloak by Von Lancelot — it’s not vintage, but who cares when it’s this much red velvet!
Now for the tip of your toes… Well, almost — these vintage 1940’s red velvet HiLarks have peep toes! So get out the red polish, I feel a pedicure comin’ on!
