Oh You Fancy, Huh: LIFE Magazine's Best Fashion Photos

Maybe because this day has started off rainy and dreary... but this list from LIFE Magazine just did something great to my psyche this morning.

 

 

See the entire list here.

Have a beautiful day!

{ Birthday Parties and Eighties Babies }

Last week, I turned 30.

I'm not going to lie... I've been dreading this.

Another decade older. In one day.
A new age group in InStyle's "What to Wear at Any Age" feature.
A different box to check on my voter registration card.
I feel the need to start reading The New Yorker
and permanently program my radio to NPR.

Have I been ousted from the world of fedoras, skinny jeans, Chanel's Black Tie nail polish...?
I just can't do Talbot's yet. I can't.
And really, it seems a shame to delete "Party in the USA" from my iPod.

As I tread lightly into the world of the real adult, I am going to take full advantage of the fact that birthdays are the one day of the year you can be totally about yourself.

I am dedicating this post to all things decadent and self-indulgent...
highly influenced by Varuca Salt.

Everything Fabulous

I want a wine cellar.
I want a closet like Carrie Bradshaw.
I want a garden of gardenias, lilacs, hydrangeas, and roses--
and I want them to bloom all year long.
I want to provide educational funding to low income schools.
I want to visit Florence, Italy and the Holy Land.
I want to meet Tim Gunn.
I want to find homes for all the pets without one.
I want to go to Fashion Week in Paris. And London. And NYC. And Milan.
I want someone to discover a cure for cancer.
I still want to be a good cook like the Barefoot Contessa.
I want to publish a children's book.

That was a quick, stream of consciousness list... I am sure I'll be think of more at random times, and will add them as I think of them.

Time to get busy; it seems I have a rather lofty bucket list.

{ Dream Shopping Becomes Reality }

Fantastic news, friends!
I am so excited to share that one of my favorite blogs,

The Swelle Life

just opened an online boutique!

All images courtesy of The Swelle Life and Swelle Boutique


The sweetheart author behind The Swelle Life has impeccable taste, so I knew the boutique would be fabulous and unique.
She has a great eye for all things lovely-- emerging designers, gourmet cupcakes, couture collections, eclectic artwork, new accessories, incredible architecture ... literally, this list could go on for days. She finds beauty everywhere.

And now it's translated into a shop... Helloooo, happiness!

You know a boutique is special when it literally makes you feel giddy just seeing the clothes... imagine the thrill of actually owning them! The pieces are ethereal, feminine, whimsical, yet so very practical. There's a variety of gorgeous hues and textures represented and all pieces are either one of a kind or limited edition. Also of note: the prices are unbelievably reasonable.

Here's a tiny sample.

Thank you Denise for adding a spoonful of sugar to my day!

But enough of this typing... I have shopping to do.

Visit Swelle Boutique at http://www.swelleboutique.com/

{ Riches to Rags in Camelot's Backyard }

I'm really excited about this post. It's a topic I wanted to write about before this blog actually existed, because it inherently has all the traits that I wanted my Joie de Vivre posts to contain:
fun, fascinating, lovely, sometimes tragic and always romantic, extraordinary things.

I wish I could tag all relevant words on this topic, but I can't. I want to make tags like these:

Propriety and Rebellion.
Present and Past.
Wealth and Poverty.
Stagnation and Ambition.
Celebrity and Obscurity.
Freedom and Captivity.
Sparkle and Decay.
Fantasy and Reality.

(You get the idea.)

All these are contradictions, but somehow they all fuse together to become the story of
Grey Gardens.


And now is the perfect time to post, since my mom and I recently celebrated Mother's Day by seeing a local (and fabulous) production of Grey Gardens.

Last year, I read an article about an HBO movie starring

Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore.
I love them both, and I love period dramas based on true stories...
so of course I had to see Grey Gardens.

A side note: I always somehow end up doing WAY too much research after I see a "true story" movie, because I just have to know more about the real people in the stories. Examples:
Miss Potter. Amazing Grace. The Other Boleyn Girl. Capote. Finding Neverland.
(Did you know the real-life inspiration for Peter Pan committed suicide?! That burst my bubble a little.)

But back to the topic at hand.

One thing that makes this story so intriguing to the public is that the two pricipal characters, mother and daughter Edith "Big Edie" Ewing Bouvier Beale and daughter Edith "Little Edie" Bouvier Beale were aunt and cousin of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis.

Edith's husband, New York City lawyer Phelan, purchased the gorgeous East Hampton beach estate as a summer and entertaining home for the family. Big Edie was a beautiful free spirit, who like all wealthy wives kept a house and a busy social calendar, yes; but went against the grain of the cordial entertaining formalities (light gossip and dirty martinis) and gave live performances of her favorite songs with the help of her loyal accompanist, George Gould Strong.

Little Edie was known as "Body Beautiful Beale" and was on track to become a well-married society woman herself. She claimed to have marriage proposals from the ill-fated Joe Kennedy, Jr., and J. Paul Getty, among others. She also had unconventional aspirations like her mother-- a dancer, or perhaps Broadway star.
But while a debutante, Edie mingled with the beautiful and wealthiest of East Coast society.

Edie, age 8 or 9


Debutante and "Body Beautiful Beale."

Spread in Italian Vouge

In 1932, Phelan left his theatrical and at times uncouth wife Edith with a small trust fund and.... Grey Gardens.

I think I see the ghosts of Miss Havisham and Estella peeking around the corner.

After a brief stint in NYC, Little Edie moved back in to take care of her mother. They would live there, alone, for decades; and the once beautiful Hamptons home fell victim to the reckless hands of Neglect, Compulsion, and Squalor. Infested with fleas, overrun by cats and racoons (and thus their carcasses and waste), filled with garbage and decay, without running water... A sparkling palace left to deteriorate quietly to an unrecognizable shell.

Big Edie rarely got out of bed; Little Edie lost her hair from alopecia. They ordered sparse groceries and at times ate "pate" meant as cat food. In the fall of 1971 and throughout 1972, their living conditions were exposed as the result of an article in the National Enquirer and a cover story in New York Magazine after a series of inspections (which the Beales called "raids") by the Suffolk County Health Department.

With the Beale women facing eviction and the razing of their home, in the summer of 1972 Jacqueline Onassis and her sister Lee Radizwill provided the necessary funds to stabilize and repair the dilapidated house so that it would meet Village codes.

Albert and David Maysles became interested in their story and received permission to film a documentary about the women, which was released in 1976 to wide critical acclaim. Using a direct cinema technique, the women were left to tell their own stories. Little Edie fashioned outfits from skirts as scarves, upside down sweaters, and vintage brooches, and reminisced about time with Joe Kennedy, Jr. and the Barbizon Hotel. Big Edie belts out some of her favorite songs and cooks corn on a hot plate next to her bed. They fight, they sing, they love. And they get their long sought-after fame, in a film that has launched a thousand franchises.

Edie at the time of the Maysles documentary, 1976

Some call it exploitation, some a train wreck you just can't look away from; others call it a celebration of individuality, contentedness, and female independence. Regardless, there's no disputing it's a cult classic and a story that intrigues many (like me) still today--

Just look at the musical, the documentaries, the coffee table books, the bobble head dolls (really-- click the link if you don't believe me), the haute couture fashion shoots and ready-to-wear collections, coloring books, buttons, fan clubs, and abundance of online websites dedicated to Grey Gardens.

Below, the HBO promo starring Drew Barrymore and Jessica Lange.

And one of my favorites: the real Little Edie in her own words on the "best outfit for today."
She has an enviable confidence and innovation in fashion:
"My costumes? That's a protest against having worked as a model for the Establishment, believe it or not. A lot of models feel that way. Sometimes their lives are protests against having worked as models. Besides, I didn't have time taking care of mother to get out and buy any clothes. So I used what was left of mine and mother's in the attic." - Little Edie




For more information on Grey Gardens, check out these great links:
http://www.greygardensonline.com/
http://www.greygardens.com/
http://greygardensnews.blogspot.com/
A house tour of Grey Gardens today: http://lxtv.com/openhousenyc/video/10233

Grey Gardens circa 2005, restored to its former glory.

Little Edie sold it after Big Edie passed away, on the condition that it not be torn down.
"All it needs is a coat of paint!"


True Glamour Never Fades.

{ The Most Swelle Blog on the Block }

This gorgeous blog, The Swelle Life, was one of my inspirations to start my own blog. It's joy.

And it meets... nay, exceeds... the highest of expectations for a fantastic site.

The author is a cosmopolitan Canadian-turned-Brit (check!), freelance fashion writer (check!), with amazing photography skills (check!), and an eye for fashion and all things fabulous
(ch-ch-check!).

And she has this thing called "Cupcake Monday."
For REAL.

Every Monday, she features luscious cupcakes in various states of dress. I'm always surprised at what I see. Mondays are definitely more fun for me because there are new cupcakes-in-costumes in it.

Cupcake Monday: Floral Edition;
Cupcake Monday: Handbag Edition; and
Cupcake Monday: Manly Butch Edition, just to name a few.

Unless otherwise noted, all photos courtesy of The Swelle Life.

It was on her blog I got my first look at Alexander McQueen's final collection.












Her blog introduced her great weekly column that pays homage to the art of accessorizing.

FROM THURSDAY, MARCH 4, 2010:
ACCESSORIZE THIS: THE PERFECTLY SUITED
SCARVES OF MARGO PETITTI

FROM THURSDAY, MARCH 4, 2010
LONDON FASHION WEEK:
ACCESSORIES TRENDS
TREAD LIGHTLY

FROM THURSDAY, JANUARY 4, 2010:
ACCESSORIZE THIS: THE LITTLE THINGS

So it's not suprising that this avid reader of The Swelle Life-- who happens to love free stuff-- immediately honed in on a new post that included the word "giveaway." A proud member of the I- never-win-anything-club since 1989, I didn't think I had much of a chance. Truly, I stopped stuffing boxes with strategically-crumpled slips of paper when I was about 9.

But, when I saw what she was giving away, I just had to try.

Archie Grand notebooks!

Photos courtesy of Archie Grand

They're kitschy, cheeky, and delightful. I've wanted one forever. Little notebooks great for list-making or jotting down random thoughts. Tres' cute when pulled out of a tote bag. They have a matte satin cardstock cover and inside are 160 blank pages of Lessebo Linné paper with sewn signatures.

The only thing you had to do for this giveaway was visit the Archie Grand website, which I enjoyed, and become a fan of Swelle Life on Facebook, which I already had. You could also Tweet about the giveaway.

Seeing as the amount of space this entry has taken up, either I'm an extremely good sport and can lose with total grace and dignity...

Girl, please.


We all know I'm writing this because I won!!!

Thank you to the lovely Denise of The Swelle Life for your generosity!!! I am beyond excited about my win and appreciate it so much. Thank you also for your always delightful blog, it never fails to brighten my day. It really gives me something to emulate and enjoy in the process.

{ The Original Designer Label }

The other day my boyfriend and I were watching Pawn Stars on the History Channel. (Yes, Pawn Stars. That's a whole separate post.) If you're not familiar with the show, essentially people come into this Las Vegas pawn shop trying to hawk their treasures. I've seen everything from a quilt made of over 200 patches of celebrity autographs, to a faux Renaissance jousting lance. The employees then decide if they'll buy, and how much they'll pay. (The guys that work there totally play up to the reality TV of it all... they'll crack a joke and give a sideways glance to the camera, and you just wait for the "Did ya get that?") There's a grumpy grandpa that owns it that never says anything nice. And there's this guy named-- Arthur-- or something? But they call him "Chum Lee." Because he's of Asian descent. Really?)

But I digress.
On one episode, a guy brings in a gorgeous, weathered, and very antique Louis Vuitton traveling trunk. He had apparently bought it for next to nothing at an estate sale, where he said it was in the basement to be thrown away. That trunk encompassed all that I love about antiques-- you can let your imagination run wild with scenarios and stories where your piece is a character. For this particular trunk, I picture its owner as a Gibson Girl-esque shipping merchant's daughter, who wears long gloves, and hats with feathers, and smells like lavender and soap.

The trunk was covered in LV's signature monogram canvas, and the corners and lock were protected by beautifully patina-ed leather. The best thing about it, in my opinion, were the faded stickers from cargo holds around the world. Oh the tales it could tell.

I found this to be a great opportunity to educate my boyfriend on the history of Louis Vuitton. As his eyes started to gloss over, I told him that:

LV was originally a high-end luggage line and began in the mid-19th century.

And, Did you know that the famous monogram canvas design was inspired by Japanese art?

ANDDDD, That it is the most counterfeited brand in fashion history? (He proudly stated that he knew all about Louie-vee-tie-wans. Sigh.)

Then he cut me off. So I will take the rest of this little lesson on Louis Vuitton here, to my happy place. Because to me, Louis Vuitton is the epitome of timeless style and luxury; deserving of so much more than to a sad plastic hook in a van on Canal Street... or worse, this.

The real Mr. Louis Vuitton was born in 1821 in Jura, France. At the age of 14, he literally walked 200 miles-- on foot-- to Paris, where he became an apprentice of a luggage maker. By 1854 he opened his own high-end luggage shop, and gained international recognition after winning at multiple World Fairs. (Fun fact: Vuitton made some of the first flat-topped trunks; prior to this, trunks were rounded and thus could not be stacked on top of one another.)

It was for one such exhibition that Vuitton created a beige and brown stripe design, to hinder counterfeiting... which was already becoming a thorn in the LV brand's side. After the death of Louis, son Georges Vuitton took the company worldwide; by 1896 the monogram canvas as we know it today had evolved, and the Louis Vuitton Company soon saw stores everywhere from Buenos Ares to New York.

By the 1930s Gaston-Louis Vuitton, grandson of Louis, was heading a company that was broadening its product line. In the 1950s the canvas leather was revamped in order to better accommodate production of smaller leather goods such as wallets and handbags. Audrey Hepburn was a fan-- and there's really no more powerful definition of chic than that.

In 1987, the Louis Vuitton of my generation was formed: LVMH. Moet et Chandon (champagne) and Hennessy (cognac) merged with Louis Vuitton to form the luxury goods conglomerate. Purses & cocktails... rhythm & blues... Fred and Ginger.... they just go together.

The Louis Vuitton brand has managed to stay afloat in the ever-changing drifts of fashion trends. It has been translated into the languages of fashion geniuses such as Marc Jacobs and Takashi Murakami, resulting in cherry blossoms patterns and Crayola-splashed graffiti. But underneath the sparkle of Amarante, Pomme de Amour, and Perle Vernis lies the same simplistic brown symbol that covers the trunk owned by my Gibson Girl.

Thank you, Mr. Vuitton, for making that 200-mile hike to Paris. We sure are glad you did.