Category: Advertising

When Your Skirt Is In Serious Need Of Ventilation

1939

Ladies, we’ve all had those moments when the air gets stale beneath our petticoats and we could go for a good “Seven Year Itch” subway grate moment. Get the air moving about a bit. But this is too much. Maybe model Lisa Fonssagrives was having a good braided hair day, a good make-up day, and wanted to get out and show her dress off. That, I get. Sometimes your hair is so on point that it demands social activity.

But hit the pubs, the restaurants, the gardens, perhaps the part of the Eiffel Tower that touches the ground. Maybe that was her intention. But then photographer Erwin Blumenfeld arrived on the scene.

And he said, “Just hear me out here, but I was thinking … What if you scaled the girders of the tower in your billowy Lucian Lelong dress–which is totally not a hazard in any way–sans harness, and just sort of hung on by one hand? Sound good?”

And she was all, “Why not?”

Badda-bing, badda-boom, the precursor to our current dangerous, extreme selfie culture.

Somehow, Lisa lived to the age of 80, not falling off a Parisian tower. She described herself as a “good clothes hanger.”

Hair Of Early ’86

Take a look around. People’s hair seems pretty tame these days. Yes, women from 12 to 55 are adding purple tint. That’s a bit odd. But basically, nothing in these 20-teens has anything on the 80s. Not the Oughties or the 90s.

Today we take a look at a tiny sliver of the 80s, January through April of 1986. All images are from Vogue.

Let’s start with this hair-raising vertical, erect pony. It certainly wouldn’t work for driving any form of car or truck. Perhaps she only traveled in the way way back of station wagons, prostrate. She seems the sort, no?

Gravity-defying was in, with temples swept up and away. With heavy earrings and fringe hanging down, hair needed to fly up, the opposite of the middle-parted hippie Cher hair from the decade prior.

Even the model in the fatty plus-sized section of the mag had her hair sprayed up to the heavens to make sure it never fell into her face. 

This six-year-old in a jubilant Esprit ad also had hair spiked and sprayed to the sky, accented with a bandana, a la Olivia Newton-John’s “Physical” days.

When inevitably the hair collapsed, one wound up with a Shaggy Dog look. If only she could see her own appearance, she would have jetted to the Supercuts for a trim.

These bangs win the award for thickest bangs ever. I bet you could hide a shiv in there.

And for the free and easy, peace-loving, inclusive Benetton ads, hair was free form as well. All the way down to those split ends. Peace out.

Alexandria, Virginia 1965, Part IV

Today we wrap up the memories from 1965 with this image of gals on the bus. I haven’t taken public transport in years because HYGIENE, but one gal looks positively GIDDY to be aboard. Is she sheltering her project from Nosy Nellies?

Next, we have two of America’s favorite things: cars and dogs. You may notice Susie O’Hazza’s name listed under the kennels, which she owned and operated, and where she bred, raised, and showed Champion Great Danes. Per her 2008 obit, she and her husband spent 17 winters in the Cayman Islands. Isn’t it amazing how quickly we can access information these days?

These ladies seem to be scratching their heads at all those tubes and wires.

Typing class, an ancient relic, once offered at business school–and one with an easy phone number!

Oh, dear. this is why we don’t wear pleated shorts. They do not flatter. They almost appear to be jodhpurs that have been chopped at the knee.

And we end with this image (of another gal in another pleated skirt), presumably endorsing her check or completing paperwork at the bank. Note the gumball machine and the countertop. Is that Formica?

The Braless Eighties

Bra-burning began 50 years ago among protesters of the Miss America pageant, an emblem of radical feminism. Having not been alive 50 years ago, I cannot fully comprehend their behavior. I imagine most of these women would have been svelte, small-bosomed ladies like my mom and most of my friend’s mommies. Today, however, those who are fuller figured and into the C and D cups, who spend over $50 per bra, wouldn’t dare burn them. Not even for political gain.

Getty Images

Of my generation, I never knew anyone to go braless, though we did see Baby Boomer women who did, and we did witness the jiggly antics of Chrissy Snow on “Three’s Company.” This was not something we wanted to emulate. So when I see braless pics in the pages of my new (but old) 80’s Vogues, I assume it was purely for fashion reasons.

It started out subtle.

Jan 84

In the most androgynous of ways.

It presented a united front.

Apr 84

Then it got scary.

And then it took a turn into the new career woman’s ensembles. What working woman would be caught dead sans camisole, with a V nearly to her naval? And what’s with that belt? High fashion indeed.

It would have been impossible to saunter into an office and ask folks not to stare. It’s like J. Lo in her green dress. Too much liberation, with risk of escape!

One thing I do know for sure is that they sold bras in the 80s. The problem was, save for Jane Russell’s Cross Your Heart Playtex bra, they nearly all look like training bras for middle schoolers. No underwire, no support. And little cooing doves on the cups made them posilutely silly.

I can’t imagine a grown woman wearing this. I can’t imagine a bra that you could crumple up into your hand. Many of today’s top-selling bras are minimizing, taking you one cup down, having wide straps that don’t leave indentions in your shoulders, and they’d never fit in one hand. Then again, we are in an obesity epidemic. If you’re lucky enough to be able to find function in that duet brassiere, thank your lucky stars. Your back thanks you as well. You are spared the burden.

So, ladies, whether your bosom is a Dolly Parton or a Kelly Ripa, one thing is for sure: our country sure has a love/hate relationship with them.

womenyoushouldknow.net

Swimsuits of ’84

Summer is on the horizon. Time to suit up and hit the waves. If you’re unsure as to what suits you, please find inspiration in swimwear from these January-June 1984 Vogues.

Could this be any more 80s? The overdone eyeliner, the one huge earring (because who doesn’t wear dangle earrings to the beach?), the low-cut animal print, and tousled hair. Perfect!

Are they feathers or surfboards? The 80s was all about colorful geometric prints.

This ad got right to the point. Wear Robby Len or nothing at all. And for some reason, one girl chose nothing.

This next one has a very aerobics vibe, with the shorn locks of a Benatar, a Jett, or even Jamie Lee Curtis. My concern is with the two buttons on her side. Avoid the downward dog!

The next Christian Dior ad is over-the-top and ridiculous. Here we see the bosom of Kelly LeBrock as it nearly spills out of her plunging neckline. Don’t hate me because I’m heavenly!

God bless America.

This next one is all about the color blocking in Crayola hues.

And lastly, we’ve got Footloose‘s Lori Singer with Aqua-Netted hair “fried, died, and shoved to the side,” as my queens used to say, holding a wailing infant (clearly upset with the quality of her pearls), while seagulls hover above. Has there ever been an image that captures the tranquility and beauty of the ocean more than this?

Doing Science To See If You’re Expecting

Vogue Jan 84

Evidently, you had to do science 35 years ago to determine if you were in the family way. I’ve asked several Baby Boomer friends of mine, but none of them recall this particular pregnancy test kit, or ever using test tubes for results.

45 minutes? That’s a lot of waiting. You can eat dinner and watch a sitcom in that amount of time. And God forbid you dropped a tube, and it shattered. Anyway, times have surely changed for the better.