So said Humphrey Bogart.
We can only assume he’s doing his best to keep ahead of the world here, while Clifton Webb angles Bogey’s hat just so. Laurence Olivier, in his own straw hat, looks on.
We’ve all had them. Even those currently without hair remember them. After an hour-long struggle with product and appliance, you give up and shove a hat atop your noggin. But there are other options. Like lace helmets.
Oh, sure, they’re hard to come by, although I contend that you could sew two of Granny’s doilies together for a similar effect. These three Netherlands maidens seem satisfied with theirs, which are actually thin-beaten silver or gold covered with lace. Sounds hot if under direct sunlight. And wouldn’t jealous others come snatch them off your head to sell on the black market? Perhaps lace helmets aren’t the best option.
Moving on.
Granted, this next low-ventilation choice doesn’t look particularly comfortable, but if you were a woman in Kabul, Afghanistan in 1968, you might have donned a traditional chadri like this woman. Birdcage optional. Nobody would ever know it was you, much less what your hair looked like.
Want to creep out all your friends and neighbors? It’s better than showing them split ends or uneven bangs, my friends. Take a page out of these Achill Island, Ireland residents’ handbook and stick a broom on your face.
Descendants of the “Straw Boys” who terrorized Ireland in days of yore, these two shared their fearsome disguises for the photographer. Straw is a neutral, so it goes with everything. But mercy, it is itchy!
Perhaps the best idea (and the most colorful) for those of the XX persuasion (although I can absolutely see Nick Cannon trading in his Sikh turban for this) are these Ivory Coast headwraps–and perhaps the sunglasses as well. They certainly seem happy.
Why am I so salty on the sabbath? Is it the 100+ heat with no chance of a cloud until mid-October? Perhaps I just can’t process why this vintner chose to put that ensemble together.
“Okay, Carol, focus, focus! The magazine is coming today, and they’re going to take some pictures, so I’ll just build my outfit, starting with shoes. These sandals are so smart! What goes with this coral shade? Ah, yes, my old artist’s smock–the one with sleeves that go past my weenus. What’s next? The plaid navy skirt that makes me look bulky despite my thin frame. Marvelous. Done.”
To be fair, salmon and navy are on trend this season. Just not in the same proportion.
In fact, my last dress purchased was a navy/salmon print. That salmon is so current. Or is it against current? 😉
Who knew you could even get SHOES in said colors?
Just perfect for the petite jogging woman who needs to add three inches of height as she pounds pavement!
Those of you alive during the summers of the 1980s might recall how high-cut swimsuits were, with fabric barely meeting at the hipbone. These two young ladies seem to be enjoying the golden hour of a Rhode Island summer’s eve. Props for the two-tier gold necklace. Did she wear that into the water?
Seated are Steven Spielberg and the young Christian Bale on the set of 1987’s Empire of the Sun.
What do you think? I prefer his Magnum P.I. look on an Indiana Jones set with buddy, George Lucas.
In days of yore, both high school and university yearbooks included many pages of the campus’s most attractive dames. The 1933 Austin High School Comet was no exception. Let’s start with the freshman.
How equestrian! How polished! How elegant!
Now on to the sophomores.
Check out the razzle-dazzle art deco framing their pics. I guess most high school girls owned riding crops. Now we see the juniors, both named Helen.
And there are no 12A or B favorites, oddly. Just Essie Mae Wentworth, Queen of the Spring Festival.
Pictured above are the Austin High School 1933 Girl Reserves. I wasn’t clear what exactly “girl reserves” were (what came to mind was not pleasant), so I searched for clarity. According to the yearbook, their “aim” was to “find and give the best.” Their flower is listed as the “phlox” and their colors as “blue and white.” Seems like a lot of wasted information to me. Perhaps they were reserving the truth?
Below is the group of Sodalitas Latina. Motto: Esse quam videri. I am guessing the boys up front are freshmen, as they hardly look a day older than 14.
Along with the German Club, the Motion Picture Club (motion pictures being about the same age as the teachers), and TWO Nature Science Clubs, there was also this Golden R Readers Club, with one happy boy and several angry girls. Ralph appears to be mid-prank.
Not to be outdone by R’s, I present the Order of the Golden A, comprised of those who have achieved non-athletic interscholastic victory.
This one is a hoot. The front row middle girl is being held hostage by the iron fists of the Dead Center. Then we have Messy Martha, second from the left, who is not only scowling through lenses, but clutching her handbag protectively. Further to the right is that amazing three button dress.
Lastly, I share the Austin High Student Council–in two pieces, so you can really climb in there and check them out. Those pockets! That ruffle! What kind of Depression was this?
This shot is really just to appreciate Angry Eyebrows and Odd-Stance McCrary there, both in the front row (or as they called it, the FIFTH row, since the Top Row was in the back and there was no Front Row). If one thing is certain, it’s that those two aren’t dating.
In sweltering heat, this poor college boy made use of a fan and handkerchief, since the dorm in which he resided lacked conditioned air.
And while we’re discussing undershirts and hot stuff, let me just post this.
Deeee-lish. Yes, please.
And while we’re on the subject of mustaches, how about this shot of Sam Elliot wearing a dandy yellow, rainbow–winged wifebeater?
Beefcake. It’s what’s for dinner.
And maybe a box of chocolates. 🙂
It’s Stevens Twist Twill, lest ye forget. The red lion. And just in case you’re not familiar with twill, it’s a fabric with ridges. It’s the Ruffles of the material world.
You know how people these days looooove to say how important it is to “start a dialog” about things? How necessary it is for them to “start the conversation”? It makes me want to wretch, that kind of speech. So let’s just have a chit-chat about these manufacturer names, shall we? First off: Jack Tar Togs, that’s brilliant. It sounds like the mascot for a little league team. Go, Jack Tar Togs!
Hit Em Hard seems aggressive, but the list includes many manly names like Big Dad and 5 Brother (forget 5 Sister) and Stur-Dee. Sounds super reliable, right? But then others are more vexing. Pool’s is “swetpruf”? What is that about? That’s not even phonetically-spelled.
It reminds me of Farmer Jack’s advertising ploy. But he does it on PURPOSE. Or purrpuss, shall I say?
And as for Tuf-Nut? Yikes. I’ll take your word for it.
This poor boy got the sunken eyes of his mama, and both ladies’ shoes makes their feet look like hooves.
The lady at the tippy top gives me the heebeejeebs. Those bangs… But what a festive smattering of smocks!
This one here looks about a century old, whatwith the bunned hair and flouncy floor-length gowns. Check out this happy lass and her parasol.
I Don't Get It 