They Call Them...

...Lady Bump.

Ooh La La!

Clearly, someone just touched her tomatoes.

Crazy Chapeaux

Boys' Night Out (1962, Columbia)

Madison Avenue (1962, Twentieth Century Fox)

Light in the Piazza (1962, MGM)

Tender is the Night (1962, Twentieth Century Fox)

As you know, here at SSUWAT, it's permanently 1962 -- but let's be honest --

wasn't it a strange year for hats?

Mod Men

Another film we saw as part of the Film Society of Lincoln Center's tribute to Stanley Donen was his 1966 comedy-thriller, Arabesque -- another one of our all-time childhood favorites. We'd seen it countless times on television and VHS, so we were thrilled to finally see it in its original widescreen presentation. We weren't disappointed. The cinematography (which won Christopher Challis a BAFTA award) is stunning, and lives up the film's famous tag line: "Ultra Mod! Ultra Mad! Ultra Mystery!" The actors are shot through mirrors, sunglasses' lenses, chandelier crystals -- it's gimmicky, totally of its time, and absolutely wonderful.


The film itself is nowhere near great, but completely entertaining from start to finish. The story (which shamelessly borrows from the James Bond formula; Hitchock's North by Northwest; and, most heavily, Donen's own Charade, with Gregory Peck taking Audrey Hepburn's role as the civilian improbably thrust into international intrigue, and Sophia Loren in Cary Grant's place as the side-switching enigma) is labyrinthine but compelling, particularly if you employ a lot of suspension of disbelief. Helping matters immensely is the fact that the stars have a marvelous chemistry together, with Peck strangely appealing as the slightly ragged, frayed-around-the-edges professor; and La Loren, besides being at the absolute height of her beauty, is alternately sensual, playful and witty as the helpless pawn (or is she?) in this game of espionage.


Alan Badel is third-billed, and makes a splendidly silky, sinister, Bond-worthy villain, complete with mod shades, a closet full of Savile Row suits, and a pet falcon. But the real co-star of the film is Loren's fabulously insane, custom-designed Christian Dior wardrobe, valued at (in 1966) $150,000, and consisting of 14 eye-popping outfits (our personal favorite: the emerald green coat, leopard turban, and emerald earrings) and -- get this, shoe fetishists -- 50 pairs of shoes.


In spite of a derivative storyline, implausible situations, and characters who walk a thin line between satire and cartoon, Arabesque works because of Donen's slick, economical direction (there isn't a dull moment in its entire 105 minute running time), Challis's inventive cinematography, and the superstar power of Gregory Peck and Sophia Loren. By the way, did we mention how absolutely stunning Sophia looks? Forget the mod camera angles; Sophia's closeups alone probably secured Challis his BAFTA.

It's Dior, it's de Havilland, it's DeLovely

OLIVIA DE HAVILLAND in Christian Dior, 1955

Legendary screen star Olivia de Havilland began a wild love affair just as she was about to marry another man: she fell in love with the designs of Christian Dior and became a loyal client of his atelier as she prepared for her marriage to French magazine editor, Pierre Galante.

Suit from Dior's S/S 1955 collection, included in Olivia de Havilland's wedding trousseau.

Besides creating clothes for the star's personal wardrobe, Dior designed the costumes for de Havilland's film, The Ambassador's Daughter (1956), which was set in Paris; and after his death in 1957, Dior's successors, Yves Saint Laurent and Marc Bohan, designed for her pictures Libel (1959) and Light in the Piazza (1962), respectively.

OLIVIA DE HAVILLAND, wearing Christian Dior, and JOHN FORSYTHE in The Ambassador's Daughter (1956)

OLIVIA DE HAVILLAND, wearing Yves Saint Laurent for Christian Dior, in Libel (1959)

OLIVIA DE HAVILLAND, wearing Marc Bohan for Christian Dior, in Light in the Piazza (1962)

Miss de Havilland sold most of her personal wardrobe at auction 1993, generating nearly $50,000. Over 70 of the lots were couture creations from the House of Dior, spanning 1954-1974. Today, this 93 year old legend still resides in Paris, still charmingly holds court for enthralled journalists, and still looks positively regal in vintage Dior.

OLIVIA DE HAVILLAND, in vintage Dior, 2010

Glamorous-Leigh

She was Richard Avedon's favorite fashion subject; graced the cover of over 50 magazines within a six year span; and after her modeling career ended, ran her own modeling agency and gourmet restaurants in Paris. She was Dorian Leigh, the first supermodel (Janice Dickinson be damned), and for nearly a decade, she was one of the most photographed women in the world, appearing on the cover of Vogue no less than seven times in one year (1946).

A John Rawling portrait of Dorian Leigh for the cover of Vogue, 1946

By the mid-1950's, Leigh's fame had been surpassed by that of her younger sister, Suzy Parker; she starred in a few French films, then relocated to Paris to launch the city's very first modeling agency. Leigh was enormously successful, and there are tantalizing and scandalous tales of the former cover girl joining transatlantic forces with her mentor, Eileen Ford, to drive competitor John Casablancas out of business -- and out of his mind. Eventually, Leigh herself was "run out" of the industry, thanks to the illegal schemes of one of her five husbands, which is when she entered the restaurant business. Relocating to New York in the 1980's, Leigh penned several cookbooks, including one devoted to crepes. Her son, Kim, died at 21 by his own hand; after that, the reputed inspiration for the glamorous and hedonistic Holly Golightly became a Born Again Christian. She died of complications from Alzheimer's Disease in 2008, at age 91; but through the lens of Avedon and other genius photographers, the breathtaking elegance and mystique of Dorian Leigh will never age.

DORIAN LEIGH
April 23, 1917 - July 7, 2008

Darlings...

...it's so true! But your patience is greatly appreciated.

Sometimes...

...we dream in chiffon.

We Adore...

...Dior, Suzy Parker, and vodka. Not necessarily in that order.

Goddess

SOPHIA LOREN
September 20, 1934

La Loren shares her birthday (75, bitches!) with danbearnyc. The resemblance, of course, is uncanny. Love you both!

Sunny One So True...

...we love you!

Out of Fashion

The Model as Muse exhibit at the Met.

A dud.

For one thing, the concept was perplexing (models influencing fashion? the cart before the horse?); and the execution did nothing to convince one of its validity.


It started off promisingly enough, with a mannequin wearing the black-and-white Dior gown worn by Dovima in Avedon's famous "elephants" shot; the spectacular draped Mme. Gres gown worn by Sunny Hartnett in another iconic Avedon portrait; and some really beautiful Balenciaga creations. But, aside from the famous Dovima and Hartnett poses, there was no clear correlation between the clothing and the supposed muses, aside from a few vintage Vogue and Bazaar magazines behind glass (which, bafflingly, usually had nothing to do with the clothing on display alongside it... DV, no stickler for authenticity she, would have done wonders with this concept!).


However, the couture garments from the 1940's and 1950's are so stunningly constructed, they were worth looking at, no matter the context. Unfortunately, they comprised the smallest part of the exhibition, the larger part of which was made up of 1960's-2000's fashions, which simply failed to register the same impact. The Generation Gap: a wall of "supermodel" covers from the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues, versus the images of Dovima, Jean Patchett, Dorian Leigh, Lisa Fonssagrives, et al., on the covers of Vogue and Bazaar.

There was also a "supermodel" portrait of Patrick Demarchelier which clearly was an "homage" to the classic Cecil Beaton shot of the House of Dior's models posed in the atelier, 1957. And that's one of the problems with this show -- everything past the 1960's (or even the 1970's, if you want to be generous) references the past, or has a post-modern irony, or is in "tribute" to something else. No originality. The fact that these more recent decades make up the bulk of the exhibit left us wanting to hop a plane to London, for the Victoria and Albert Museum's exhibition honoring the true masters of couture. 

And there was certainly no originality or style emanating from the crowd of poorly-dressed onlookers posing alongside Dovima's Dior gown and cut-out elephants, chewing gum and fanny packs firmly in place as they took their MySpace and Facebook cel phone photos. For them, this was surely the height of fashion. As for us -- well, we were un-a-muse-d.

THANKS

Paris, 1962