Showing posts with label Scaasi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scaasi. Show all posts
Polka Dots and Moonbeams
Remember, darlings:
When choosing your spring wardrobe, don't let patterns overpower your natural assets.
Polka Dots and Moonbeams
Remember, darlings:
When choosing your spring wardrobe, don't let patterns overpower your natural assets.
Can We Talk?
"That horrible blonde woman? I couldn't be bothered paying attention to anything she says about me." - Elizabeth Taylor on Joan Rivers
Can We Talk?
"That horrible blonde woman? I couldn't be bothered paying attention to anything she says about me." - Elizabeth Taylor on Joan Rivers
Miss American Pie
Before we reveal the identity of our latest Mystery Guest (which eluded all of you!), let's have a look at all of your incorrect guesses. We normally don't do this; but the contrast between your contenders and the actual subject is just too, too delicious!
Top row: Doris Day, Elizabeth Taylor, Sophia Loren; Middle row: Shelley Fabares, Audrey Hepburn, Sandra Dee; Bottom row: Marilyn Monroe, Leslie Caron, Brigitte Bardot
Glamorous ladies, all; but not the lady in question. Are you ready, possums? Here she is, boys; here she is, world; here's...
Yes, those fabulous frocks were designed by Arnold Scaasi for Mrs. Eisenhower. Just as Jacqueline Kennedy would epitomize the sleek sophistication of the early 1960's, Mamie Eisenhower was the walking embodiment of the affluent, upwardly mobile, conspicuously consumptive, yet decidedly middlebrow 1950's: the kind of woman who would want a mink coat and a Scaasi dress as status symbols, but who also clipped coupons, served tuna noodle casserole, and cast a suspicious, disapproving eye on the burgeoning social upheaval around the corner. It's a forgotten fact today, but during her husband's administration, Mamie was something of a fashion icon, idolized as the ultimate 1950's housewife: she was named to several best-dressed lists; purchased gowns from such high-end designers as Scaasi; and her 1953 Inaugural Ball gown (by Nettie Rosenstein) caused a sensation.
Interestingly, at the same time that Mrs. Eisenhower was patronizing Scaasi, so was her successor. A long-sleeved ruby dinner gown with a scalloped neckline from Scaasi's 1959 collection caught the eye of Senator Kennedy's beautiful young wife while she was shopping at Bergdorf Goodman, and later made for a striking portrait. The mouth waters at the thought of a dressing room confrontation between Mamie and Jackie, a la The Women, or better yet, a run-in at the ladies' lounge, as in Valley of the Dolls! Disparaging what she perceived as Mrs. Eisenhower's stuffy style, Jackie later wrote in a letter to her fashion mentor, Diana Vreeland, as her husband was on the presidential campaign trail, that she needed "my own little Mollie Parnis," a wicked swipe at the soon-to-be-departing First Lady's personal designer. Mrs. Kennedy also got in a pointed dig at Mamie's iconic inaugural gown; Jackie's would be "in perfect taste -- so simple and beautiful -- not lots of Nettie Rosenstein pailettes."
Comparisons, of course, are odious; and there couldn't be two more dissimilar women. Jackie Kennedy's soon-to-be-revered style had its strongest influence from the Parisian haute couture, while Mamie Eisenhower's style was squarely rooted in middle America; and, as such, perhaps the choice of Arnold Scaasi for some of her most important gowns was not so surprising, after all. For, although his training and background was in haute couture (in Paris at the House of Paquin, and in New York with the legendary Charles James), Scaasi's trademark exuberance, opulence and more-is-more aesthetic was completely in-sync with the bigger-is-better zeitgeist of the All American Fifties. Witness his 1959 silk damask gown for Mrs. Eisenhower, specially created for a dinner with Soviet premier Nikita Krushchev; Scaasi reputedly recommended gold to be worn in order to symbolize the United States' wealth and power.
Mrs. Eisenhower purchased several gowns by Scaasi in 1959 and 1960; their bouffant- and bubble-skirted lavishness are in direct contrast to the slim shifts and sheaths that Jackie Kennedy (who preferred her bouffants and bubbles on her head) would be photographed in, courtesy of Oleg Cassini (with a little help from Givenchy). But they typify an era, as witnessed by the catalogue of starlets you SSUWAT-ers named as possible answers. Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn and Sandra Dee couldn't be more disparate "types," but they all are forever etched in amber as icons of the 1950's. So is Mamie Eisenhower, and the dresses Arnold Scaasi designed for her are masterpieces of time capsule fashion.
For more fascinating reading about Scaasi and his fabulous coterie of clients, we heartily recommend Scaasi: American Couturier by Pamela A. Parmal, "with contributions by William DeGregorio" -- SSUWAT's longtime friend and supporter, Billy D! It's a delicious companion piece to the current exhibition of Scaasi's work at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, where Billy was Textile and Fashion Arts Department Assistant -- an exhibit we dearly hope to visit in person before it closes on June 11, 2011. Besides being a fine read and a visual treat, imagine our delight to find a hidden SSUWAT reference in one of the book's captions, courtesy of Mr. DeGregorio -- all the more reason for each and every one of you to run out and buy a copy!
Top row: Doris Day, Elizabeth Taylor, Sophia Loren; Middle row: Shelley Fabares, Audrey Hepburn, Sandra Dee; Bottom row: Marilyn Monroe, Leslie Caron, Brigitte Bardot
...MAMIE!!!
Yes, those fabulous frocks were designed by Arnold Scaasi for Mrs. Eisenhower. Just as Jacqueline Kennedy would epitomize the sleek sophistication of the early 1960's, Mamie Eisenhower was the walking embodiment of the affluent, upwardly mobile, conspicuously consumptive, yet decidedly middlebrow 1950's: the kind of woman who would want a mink coat and a Scaasi dress as status symbols, but who also clipped coupons, served tuna noodle casserole, and cast a suspicious, disapproving eye on the burgeoning social upheaval around the corner. It's a forgotten fact today, but during her husband's administration, Mamie was something of a fashion icon, idolized as the ultimate 1950's housewife: she was named to several best-dressed lists; purchased gowns from such high-end designers as Scaasi; and her 1953 Inaugural Ball gown (by Nettie Rosenstein) caused a sensation.
Interestingly, at the same time that Mrs. Eisenhower was patronizing Scaasi, so was her successor. A long-sleeved ruby dinner gown with a scalloped neckline from Scaasi's 1959 collection caught the eye of Senator Kennedy's beautiful young wife while she was shopping at Bergdorf Goodman, and later made for a striking portrait. The mouth waters at the thought of a dressing room confrontation between Mamie and Jackie, a la The Women, or better yet, a run-in at the ladies' lounge, as in Valley of the Dolls! Disparaging what she perceived as Mrs. Eisenhower's stuffy style, Jackie later wrote in a letter to her fashion mentor, Diana Vreeland, as her husband was on the presidential campaign trail, that she needed "my own little Mollie Parnis," a wicked swipe at the soon-to-be-departing First Lady's personal designer. Mrs. Kennedy also got in a pointed dig at Mamie's iconic inaugural gown; Jackie's would be "in perfect taste -- so simple and beautiful -- not lots of Nettie Rosenstein pailettes."
She and her Scaasi: Jacqueline Kennedy, 1959
Comparisons, of course, are odious; and there couldn't be two more dissimilar women. Jackie Kennedy's soon-to-be-revered style had its strongest influence from the Parisian haute couture, while Mamie Eisenhower's style was squarely rooted in middle America; and, as such, perhaps the choice of Arnold Scaasi for some of her most important gowns was not so surprising, after all. For, although his training and background was in haute couture (in Paris at the House of Paquin, and in New York with the legendary Charles James), Scaasi's trademark exuberance, opulence and more-is-more aesthetic was completely in-sync with the bigger-is-better zeitgeist of the All American Fifties. Witness his 1959 silk damask gown for Mrs. Eisenhower, specially created for a dinner with Soviet premier Nikita Krushchev; Scaasi reputedly recommended gold to be worn in order to symbolize the United States' wealth and power.
Mrs. Eisenhower purchased several gowns by Scaasi in 1959 and 1960; their bouffant- and bubble-skirted lavishness are in direct contrast to the slim shifts and sheaths that Jackie Kennedy (who preferred her bouffants and bubbles on her head) would be photographed in, courtesy of Oleg Cassini (with a little help from Givenchy). But they typify an era, as witnessed by the catalogue of starlets you SSUWAT-ers named as possible answers. Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn and Sandra Dee couldn't be more disparate "types," but they all are forever etched in amber as icons of the 1950's. So is Mamie Eisenhower, and the dresses Arnold Scaasi designed for her are masterpieces of time capsule fashion.
Mrs. Eisenhower in a full length version of the floral dress featured in our original post
For more fascinating reading about Scaasi and his fabulous coterie of clients, we heartily recommend Scaasi: American Couturier by Pamela A. Parmal, "with contributions by William DeGregorio" -- SSUWAT's longtime friend and supporter, Billy D! It's a delicious companion piece to the current exhibition of Scaasi's work at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, where Billy was Textile and Fashion Arts Department Assistant -- an exhibit we dearly hope to visit in person before it closes on June 11, 2011. Besides being a fine read and a visual treat, imagine our delight to find a hidden SSUWAT reference in one of the book's captions, courtesy of Mr. DeGregorio -- all the more reason for each and every one of you to run out and buy a copy!
Some Enchanted Evening?
We came out of Mitzi Gaynor's opening night at Feinstein's at the Regency on May 18 liking her so much, we wish we could give her one woman show, Razzle Dazzle: My Life Behind the Sequins, an unqualified rave - especially since it marks the veteran star's New York nightclub debut. Ain't that a kick in the head? After sixty-plus years in films, on television, and on nightclub and casino stages across the globe, La Gaynor has never taken a bite out of the Big Apple.
So when the still-curvaceous, glamorous Gaynor made her grand entrance on Tuesday evening, she was greeted with an ovation that can only be described as tumultuous. It was the climax of a steady hum of delicious tension and expectation which had charged the air with electricity as the audience awaited the start of a hotly-anticipated engagement.
90 minutes later, we exited the ballroom at Feinstein's curiously elated, but a little baffled and wondering what had just happened. Gaynor's song selections were wildly random (ranging from the expected South Pacific medley to a relatively new number from now-defunct Broadway hit The Drowsy Chaperone), and, we're sorry to report, largely forgettable. Gaynor's greatest assets during her heyday were her charm, vivacity, glamour, great gams, and her sparkling dancing ability. Today, she has charm and vivacity in spades; her glamour, especially as presented in six outrageous Bob Mackie confections, is as potent as ever; and her gams still look splendid. But whether it was because of the confines of the small-ish, awkwardly set up stage in the ballroom of the Regency, or Gaynor's own reluctance to shake her booty at age 78 ("I don't wanna show off no more," she sang, perhaps tellingly, in that number from Chaperone), there were few of the terpsichorean fireworks she once displayed on her legendary television specials. Gaynor's voice was never a prime strength, and now that she relies on it much more than her leggy high-kicking, its limitations are brought sharply into focus.
What kept the audience rapt with attention, then (besides the flouncy entrances with each new Mackie gown), was Gaynor's warmth, piss elegant humor, and magnetic storytelling abilities. She told more than a few howlers; we were in stitches, but her anecdotes, hysterical as they were, tended to ramble and lasted longer than her musical numbers. Which leads us to this conclusion: Mitzeleh (as her friend The Merm used to call her) would be best served nowadays by a touring Q&A program, rather than a full-scale nightclub act. If, as she sang, she doesn't want to "show off no more" - and one left Feinstein's feeling that all Mitzi really wants to do is tell salty stories and look glamorous - then she could sit down on stages with, say, Charles Busch or Bruce Vilanch or Rex Reed; reminisce, tell her tales, and show her vintage clips (which she does screen in her Feinstein's act, and which only serves to remind you of what you're not seeing in the current show). Gaynor did a program like this, in fact, a few years back in Los Angeles, we believe, with great success.
If, however, she truly does still have the urge to get up there and sing her heart out, Gaynor would be wise to eschew the overblown arrangements (her thin, wobbly voice had to compete with the synthesized strings and horns), trim the fat (a few, well-chosen, well-placed anecdotes), and tighten up the program with a carefully selected repertoire of songs which suit her style and range.
Mitzi's at Feinstein's through May 27th. Do we recommend that you go see her? Yes, so long as you know what you're getting into. It may not be the best nightclub act you've ever seen, but you'll have a hell of a good time.
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