Happy Birthday, Grace!

Today is Grace Kelly's birthday. Born on November 12, 1929 in Philadelphia, she modelled and acted on Broadway before getting cast in some television series, which led to the movies. During a film career that lasted only five years, she managed to snag an Oscar for best actress for The Country Girl (1954) and star in three Hitchcock films—Dial M for Murder (1954), Rear Window (1954), and To Catch a Thief (1955)—before leaving Hollywood behind for life as a real princess in Monaco. 

One of the biggest style icons of the 20th century, Kelly is noted for her classic, elegant look and my favourite photo of her proves that she could look stylish in anything. In 1953, Kelly sat for photographer Milton H. Greene in his New York studio for a session for Look Magazine. Kelly wears a pair of trousers and Greene's suede jacket with black heels. With her feet up on the piano, she gazes back at the camera, looking fabulous. Below are some more images from the same session but the shot above remains my favourite.

Happy Birthday, Grace Kelly! 

Death Becomes Her

This year I spent Halloween at a favourite place, the Met (you thought I was going to say a cemetery, didn't you?), where there were a series of activities including performances by a magician, drawing by candlelight at the Temple of Dendur, and readings of Edgar Allan Poe. The biggest attraction was a very fitting exhibit, "Death Becomes Her: A Century of Mourning Attire,” featuring American and British mourning wear from 1815 to 1915.

The exhibit was crowded with visitors dressed up in all manner of costumes, including some very impressive Victorian outfits, and everyone’s favourite street photographer, Bill Cunningham, was there, snapping away while people took photos of him. It was all a bit too much so I went back another day to view the exhibit properly.

In the 19th-century, people had a different relationship with death than we do now. The high infant mortality rate and shorter life expectancy for adults meant that death was a constant reality for most people. The living chose to remember their dead in various ways: jewelry was fashioned out of the hair of the departed, photos were taken with the actual dead (creepy), and specific clothing was worn.

The Victorians, with their strict code of conduct, naturally created a whole industry around mourning wear with rules on what to wear and for how long based on the mourner and the deceased. The death of a parent or child called for one year whereas the death of a sibling was just six months. The longest time was reserved for husbands with widows expected to mourn for two years. 

Mourning itself was broken into four stages. Full mourning, which was what widows were expected to do for a year and a day, involved wearing all black including loads of dull crepe (no shiny materials allowed). Then came second mourning, which was less severe than full with some of the heavy crepe removed from outfits. Widows would observe this stage for nine months. Ordinary mourning saw the removal of crepe all together although clothes remained black. For a mourner like a sister, attending a ball was allowed. And finally the fourth stage, half mourning, which allowed mourners to forgo black in lieu of mauve, purple, and gray. Men had it much easier, often getting away with just adding a black tie and gloves to their usual dark suits. They were also only required to observe mourning for three months.

For widows, the donning of mourning wear could send out mixed messages. While a widow's black garb signified a loyal wife showing respect for her departed husband it also said to men that here was a sexually experienced woman who might have a huge fortune at her disposal. Included in the exhibit is an amusing series of illustrations by Charles Dana Gibson called “A Widow and Her Friends” from 1900 in which a young, attractive widow is hounded by interested suitors and finally winds up joining a nunnery to get away from them.

British evening dress of black moiré silk, lace, and jet, circa 1861.

There are 30 ensembles on display (including a few for men and children) and a selection of accessories and jewelry. The gowns run the gamut from demur and plain to downright glamorous. The French designed ones (surprise, surprise) seem the most fashionable like a silk gown by Charlotte Duclos (1910-12) that features glass beading while a British evening dress circa 1861 made of moiré silk has the most exquisite pattern woven into what appears at first to be solid black. Another gown of note is an American wedding gown from 1868 done in gray to acknowledge those who had died in the Civil War.

For the wealthy, mourning clothes for the most part followed the latest trends save for the colour. It’s easy to see how a pretty woman with means might have looked fetching in an off-the-shoulder black evening gown. Consuelo Vanderbilt’s husband, the Duke of Marlborough, upon seeing her in mourning wear for Queen Victoria, remarked, “If I die, I see you will not remain a widow for long” (their unhappy marriage ended in divorce before that could happen).

And speaking of Victoria, included in the exhibit are gowns worn by two very different queens. Queen Victoria famously wore mourning wear for the rest of her life after the death of her beloved Prince Albert. A gown from 1894-5, some 30 years after Albert’s death, shows the Queen still wearing solid black. Nearby are two half-mourning gowns owned by Queen Alexandra, Victoria’s daughter-in-law. Designed in 1902 by Henriette Favre (again, the French) in two shades of purple, they are light and sparkly, a far cry from Victoria's heavy black. 

World War I put an end to mourning wear. With so many men and boys dying, it was seen as self-serving to put on such a public show of grief. While people still wear black to funerals today, the age of mourning wear ended with the arrival of the modern age.

“Death Becomes Her” is at the Met through February 1, 2015. For more information, visit here. Photos: Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Tilda en Chanel

Is there anyone cooler than Tilda Swinton? The woman never ceases to amaze (nor does she appear to age). I'm hoping to catch her this fall when she's expected to return to MoMA for "The Maybe," an exhibit in which she sleeps in a glass box for all to see.

In the meantime, there's a new Chanel campaign featuring Tilda to enjoy. The 2012-13 Métiers d'Art Paris-Edinburgh collection embraces the spirit and look of Scotland. Shot by Uncle Karl himself, it's full of rich tartans and tapestries and pearls (of course). Absolutely stunning.

To hear Tilda talk about the collection, visit here.

Fashion and Impressionism

"Women in the Garden" Claude Monet (1866)

Last month I spent part of my birthday at the Met viewing “Impressionism, Fashion, and Modernity,” an exhibit that examines the influence of fashion on the work of the Impressionists who sought to reflect in their art the modern world in which they lived, Paris in the late 19th century (the mid-1860s to the mid-1880s to be exact).

The exhibit is spread out across eight galleries, juxtaposing paintings, photographs, and prints (many of which have rarely been seen in America) by artists such as Degas, Manet, Monet, and Renoir with clothes, shoes, and accessories from the time. 

"Camille" Claude Monet (1866)

At the entrance, you are greeted by the sight of a green-striped gown in a glass case. Entering the first gallery you find a large-scale painting, Monet’s “Camille” (1866), in which the model, Monet's mistress and future wife, wears a gown with similar stripes. From then on it's a struggle to know what to look at first, the clothes or the art.

In the same room are a series of cartes-de-visites by Disdéri —eight small exposures on a single glass negative that feature a woman in different poses. I loved these and the so very French names of their models: Valois, Heloise, Olympe, and Eugénie. That would be the Empress Eugénie.

Each gallery continued on with various themes: from the outdoors, white and black dresses, and changing fashions to menswear, consumerism, and urban life.

Day Dress, 1865-67

It was particularly fascinating to look at the clothes close-up, observing all of the details and in some cases the seemingly endless buttons. I tried imagining what it must have been like to wear these every day and of the corsets (also on display) that helped to create such tiny waists. The all-white dresses appeared to be ridiculously sheer and light, which must have helped during a hot summer while the trend for shawls reminded me of our current day pashminas. It’s also amazing to think that people had the wherewithal to hold on to these, allowing us to view them more than 100 years later.

"In the Conservatory" Albert Bartholomé (ca. 1881) and 

Summer Day Dress Worn by Madame Bartholomé in the Painting "In the Conservatory."

One of the gowns on display, a purple and white number, is the actual gown seen in Albert Bartholomé’s “In the Greenhouse” (1881). The artist preserved it after his wife, the model for the painting, died. The most marked difference is that Bartholomé darkened the gown’s purple for his painting (or perhaps the gown itself has faded over time). Regardless, it was pretty great to see.

What surprised me the most was to learn that the little black dress (OK, big black dress) was alive and well in Paris and considered quite fashionable. I always associate black in the 19th century with mourning (think Queen Victoria) but as Renoir said, “black is the queen of colours,” and my favourite dress in the exhibit (see image above) was indeed a black one. Narrow with a high collar and tiny jet beading and a small train, it was absolutely gorgeous.

"Paris Street; Rainy Day" Gustave Caillebotte (1877)

The final gallery has what I think is one of the best pieces, Gustave Caillebotte's "Paris Street; Rainy Day" (1877), which I had seen before on a trip to Chicago. A perfect combination of fashion and environment, it's incredibly striking and the perfect way to close out the exhibit. 

The exhibit is at the Met through May 27, 2013. For more information, visit here. 

All images from the Met.

Je m'appelle Candy

Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola have made a darling short film for the launch of Candy L'Eau, a lighter version of Prada’s popular scent. With a nod to Truffaut’s Jules et Jim, the film stars the cool French actress Léa Seydoux as a woman torn between two admirers. It's filled with wonderful colours and a version of Paris that seems to only exist in the movies. In other words, it's delightful.

A Well-Dressed Flapper

Isn't this outfit gorgeous? I love it, from the adorable chiffon tam to the chic black silk faille coat with matching top and skirt to the rose beige shoes. And having Clara Bow as the model is a bonus. But the total cost, $346.50, makes it sound like an outfit the average flapper would not have been able to afford, especially if everything was purchased all at once. For some perspective, in today's money the outfit would cost $4,530. That's a pretty hefty price tag. But oh how I would love to have every item.

Wonder what other items from the 1920s would cost today? Check out this inflation calculator from the Bureau of Labor Statistics here. 

100 Years of Style

Watch this darling video that illustrates 100 years of fashion in just 100 seconds. Created to advertise the opening of a new shopping center in East London, it's a great piece of marketing. I, of course, love the dresses from the 1920s and 30s but also quite like the WWII-era pants and hairscarf as well as the 1950s rolled jeans with blazer (an outfit that I wore just the other day).