Wednesday, February 25, 2004
Mall Purgis Night
Okay, okay, I borrowed that from a book. But... Ash Wednesday at the mall. First of all, an awful lot of people are walking around with ashes on their heads. That's right, at that temple of consumerism, the mall. I'll just go on without comment, though.
So out at the mall, nothing is new, everything looks poorly made and waaaaay overpriced (especially J. Jill, as much as I like the catalog). Although I did have a bizarre bit of nostalgia perusing Ralph Lauren pink stripey shirts and Izod knits while listening to "Kiss On My List" over the PA... if only the scent of Tea Rose or Lauren (do they even still make Tea Rose or Lauren?) had been in the air it would have just been toooooo 1981. All I'd need is a green Polo knit shirt, a pair of 501 shrink-to-fits, and some Sperry Topsiders, dark brown with white soles, to make the experience complete.
But anyway.
After the excesses of the mall I had to come home immediately, having bought nothing but an overpriced bit of extra-wicking polyester exercise gear, and thumb through the well-worn pages of Elegance. If you've never seen this classic by Genevieve Antoine Dariaux, keep your eyes open; nearly every book sale I go to has at least one copy, and often several in various stages of decay. It's sort of encyclopedic, in that it's got alphabetically arranged entries on, apparently, Genevieve's favorite topics. Here are some samples.
Here's my favorite entry: BUDGET. Genevieve leads off by saying:
"With these few items," says Genevieve, "you will be equipped for work and dates." And even today, you could make one shopping trip to Ann Taylor and get the whole list. But wait, there's more.
Gold sandals? Overdone? How is that possible, Genevieve?
But what's really interesting is that in 1964, when the book was published, that entire thing, for three seasons, cost $252.00. And that was for high-quality merchandise. Could you even get the coat for that these days, I wonder? My good winter coat was $500 full-price, although I got it at the end of the season, needing replacement buttons, on the last-chance clearance rack for $150. I suppose back then they would have sewn the buttons back on and put it back on the full-price rack, which makes me wonder: is it really cost-effective for stores to sell a coat that they might have sold for $500 for $150 rather than pay a tailor for 10 minutes' work?
As usual, I mourn for yesteryear. But then, that's the purpose of this blog, isn't it?
Okay, okay, I borrowed that from a book. But... Ash Wednesday at the mall. First of all, an awful lot of people are walking around with ashes on their heads. That's right, at that temple of consumerism, the mall. I'll just go on without comment, though.
So out at the mall, nothing is new, everything looks poorly made and waaaaay overpriced (especially J. Jill, as much as I like the catalog). Although I did have a bizarre bit of nostalgia perusing Ralph Lauren pink stripey shirts and Izod knits while listening to "Kiss On My List" over the PA... if only the scent of Tea Rose or Lauren (do they even still make Tea Rose or Lauren?) had been in the air it would have just been toooooo 1981. All I'd need is a green Polo knit shirt, a pair of 501 shrink-to-fits, and some Sperry Topsiders, dark brown with white soles, to make the experience complete.
But anyway.
After the excesses of the mall I had to come home immediately, having bought nothing but an overpriced bit of extra-wicking polyester exercise gear, and thumb through the well-worn pages of Elegance. If you've never seen this classic by Genevieve Antoine Dariaux, keep your eyes open; nearly every book sale I go to has at least one copy, and often several in various stages of decay. It's sort of encyclopedic, in that it's got alphabetically arranged entries on, apparently, Genevieve's favorite topics. Here are some samples.
"QUANTITY. One of the most striking differences between a well-dressed American woman and a well-dressed Parisienne is in the size of their respective wardrobes. The American would probably be astonished by the very limited number of garments hanging in the Frenchwoman's closet, but she would also be bound to observe that each one is of excellent quality, expensive perhaps by American standards, and perfectly adapted to the life the Frenchwoman leads. She wears them over and over again, discarding them only when they are worn or outmoded, and she considers it a compliment (as it is meant to be) when her best friend says, 'I'm so glad you decided to wear your red dress--I've always loved it!'"
(Under the heading "BALLS") "There are a few practical points to consider when shopping for a ball dress:
- While couture evening dresses invariably include a built-in brassiere, this is not always the case with ready-to-wear gowns, and it is wise to take a low-cut, strapless evening bra with you when you shop. In any case, it is always safer to buy your evening bra before you buy your dress.
- When trying on a ball dress, make sure that you can move about in it with ease, raise your arms comfortably, and step backward as well as forward, for you will want to make all of these movements gracefully when you are dancing.
- Trains, slinky sheaths, and stoles or scarves that need to be held in place are all lovely for wallflowers, but awkward to handle in the middle of a dance floor.
- Finally, you should realize that you may still be dancing when the sun comes up, if the ball is really a great success, and so you should take the precaution of selecting a material that will not begin to wilt long before you do." (BTW, I read this advice very carefully before prom shopping in 1984. It didn't help much.)
Here's my favorite entry: BUDGET. Genevieve leads off by saying:
"Unless, like Barbara Hutton, you can afford to buy the entire collection of Lanvin-Castillo, it is essential to establish a definite budget and a long-range plan for your wardrobe. With careful co-ordination, good taste, and self-restraint, even a tiny budget can permit you to be surprisingly well-dressed. For example here is an outline of a complete but(Here it goes to a list)
BASIC MINIMUM WARDROBE
For the Winter:
- 1 coat in a bright color--for example, red
- 1 matching skirt
- 1 sweater in a complementary color--for example, beige or brown
- 1 black skirt
- 1 black sweater
- 1 silk sweater, black or white, with a pretty neckline
- 1 pair of black high-heeled pumps
- 1 pair of flat brown shoes for the country
- 1 black leather handbag
- 1 pair of black gloves
- 1 pair of brown gloves
- 1 pearl necklace
"With these few items," says Genevieve, "you will be equipped for work and dates." And even today, you could make one shopping trip to Ann Taylor and get the whole list. But wait, there's more.
Spring and Summer
- 1 lightweight wool suit, gray or navy
- 2 blouses: one dark Paisley printed silk; one solid color, but a clear, bright one, like lemon yellow, turquoise, or pink
- 2 skirts in the same material as the blouses; worn together, they become two-piece dresses; perfect for the summer holidays
Also for the summer vacation (if you have a good figure) you might add:
- 1 pair of bright-colored slacks, and
- 1 pair of navy blue shorts, and
- 2 cotton knit tops, one of them low-cut, and both in becoming, fashionable shades
- 1 natural-colored straw handbag
- 1 pair of white gloves
- 1 pair of linen sandals, the same color as the slacks
- 1 pair of strap sandals, beige, white, or gold (although I am not so entusiastic about the latter, since it has been so overdone lately)
Gold sandals? Overdone? How is that possible, Genevieve?
But what's really interesting is that in 1964, when the book was published, that entire thing, for three seasons, cost $252.00. And that was for high-quality merchandise. Could you even get the coat for that these days, I wonder? My good winter coat was $500 full-price, although I got it at the end of the season, needing replacement buttons, on the last-chance clearance rack for $150. I suppose back then they would have sewn the buttons back on and put it back on the full-price rack, which makes me wonder: is it really cost-effective for stores to sell a coat that they might have sold for $500 for $150 rather than pay a tailor for 10 minutes' work?
As usual, I mourn for yesteryear. But then, that's the purpose of this blog, isn't it?
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
Road trip
Can you tell I'm in the mood to get out of town? And here's what I want to go in:
an Airstream trailer.
Can you tell I'm in the mood to get out of town? And here's what I want to go in:
an Airstream trailer.


