Category: Fashion

Ugly Perms Of ’84

Vogue, April ’84

That’s how I feel about perms, too, Andie. Like Andie McDowell, I had curly hair in the 80s, so no perm was warranted. Frizz was in, and sleek was out. Even Paulina experimented with the volume of the perm. Clearly, she still felt sexy in her side-eye specs.

Perms were liberating, devil may care, and wild.

When mousse came on the scene, permed styles became wetter, evoking poolside images of Christie Brinkley in “Vacation” or Phoebe Cates in “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.”

But some perms still looked touchably soft. Why bother with earrings at this point?

And let’s not forget moisturizing curls to keep them plump and full–and “sof” and free. Even the “t” in soft was too hard for these curls.

That arched eyebrow means she ain’t playing.

Some Vogue ads showed before and afters, pre- and post-perm.

It looks like they were going for a combination of Jennifer Beals “Flashdance” hair and Ola Ray from the “Thriller” video. What do you think? Is that smile cringey?

And God forbid you get a bad perm. You could never show your face in public. The solution to a damaging perm? Twigs and branches.

Sep ’84 Vogue

Spare A Square

“He produced a handkerchief—crisply folded—and handed it to her. She took it with silent astonishment. She’d never before known anyone who carried a handkerchief.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones (2007)

A handkerchief. It does seem a romantic (however outdated) notion, as far being used for anything under than a natty pocket square. And should a damsel have the need for dabbing her tears, a clean handkerchief might come in hand.

However, the reality is less romantic.

“Nothing, however, bemused the Indians more than the European habit of blowing their noses into a fine handkerchief, folding it carefully, and placing it back in their pockets as if it were a treasured memento.”  ― Bill Bryson, At Home: A Short History of Private Life

Surely we can all agree on that. I believe that my grandfather carried a handkerchief on his person, but he was also known to sneeze 7 to 8 times in a row. As a child, that was one tradition we could always expect at Christmas: to count grandpa’s sneezes as he went along.

Today, as Cassandra Clare, pointed out, almost no one uses them for blow, but merely for show. We live in a disposable world full of affordable soft Kleenex; I have a box within reach right now, as well as in four other rooms in our home.

Growing up in Austin during Willie Nelson’s outlaw years, my first introduction to handkerchiefs was the classic red paisley one he wore as a bandana, and which you still often find gathered around a blue heeler’s neck in the country. But in their day, handkerchiefs were more than just a square for hygienic purposes. They also served as art.

So today, I share some images from “Handkerchiefs: Volume 2.” We start with one fit to hand a lass in need.

This one’s in French!

Some were geared toward hobbies.

Or motivation.

Animals of all kinds made the grade.

Even our amphibian friends!

The cotton served as canvas for all sorts of swinging scenes.

And some were downright detailed. This might have even served as a Father’s Day gift. Don’t forget: it’s this Sunday!

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?

Casual Ways I Pose In My Downtime

Vogue 4/86

I just got my hands on a heap of 80s Vogues, and thought I’d share some of the fun images I encountered in the following 1986 mags. Fashion models aren’t known for their realistic poses, but these are some doozies.

Looking fierce with those slim hips.

4/86

Rocking a baby, but backwards.

Oh, pardon me!

The statuesque Paulina.

Jan 86

Take the picture already. I have to pee!

March 86

The strut every woman makes when she walks into work. She’s so professional, her skirt buttons can’t stay fastened.

Feb 86

Most women like to dress up in haute couture and then plop on the floor like basic hounds, one arm awkwardly forced behind our backs. Is she on a cruise ship? Oh, Christy.

Feb 86

And lastly, the demure tribal bonfire pose.

Apr 86

Early predecessor to the culturally-appropriating fashionista Kim K.

No?

Ebony magazine

Pink Pup Tent

This month’s In Style magazine awarded its best dress dress prize to this Valentino Haute Couture number.

I could write a list of reasons why I couldn’t carry this dress off, including its billowy unhygienic groundscraping hem and that jawline-tickling collar. Truth be told, I’d much prefer the poofy pink dress from the mid-80s Carefree ads, of which it reminded me.

The ruffles and sheen are much more flattering. And golly, she just looks happier.

Puddle Jumping

Friedrich Seidenstucker, Berlin, 1925

And where is a man to lay down his cape, so that the women may pass? Indeed, this puddle is much too deep for that, and too wide.

Here in Central Texas, we have received more spring rain than I can ever remember, and still more threatens through Saturday, though we pray it ends today. There’s only so much dirty puddle water one can tolerate sloshing about in her high heels.

http://pictify.saatchigallery.com