We're a Hit + Vintage Pattern-palooza!

How thrilling these last few days have been, readers.  Our show, Noah's Very Unusual Insight, was a hit (despite fierce Februrary weather in October), and we're definitely going to do it again -- perhaps in the same space, perhaps on tour and coming to a city near you! 

Of course, you'd expect that I'd have hundreds of photos to post, but friends, I have none.  We did have both performances videotaped, however, so as soon as we get the files from the videographer we'll be posting highlights on YouTube.  There was simply too much going on to remember to snap some backstage pics, though for what it's worth, I did remember to bring my camera to the theater last night.  Oh well.

I will share with you what I wore as Dr. Lorna Gallo, who is a mix of Ingrid Bergman in Spellbound and Ethel Merman in pretty much anything.

I wore the Elaine dress (I'm glad I didn't dump it) with a lab coat on top.

At the flea market I found these great vintage iron-on embroidered letters.  They no longer ironed on -- I mean, they must be sixty years old -- so I just stitched them on.





I also found these vintage rhinestone shank buttons for just $1 -- love 'em! -- though they didn't make it into the show.



Michael wore men's clothes, of course, but he was very excited to have an excuse to darken his nearly invisible eyebrows for the stage.  Here's a test shot.



To shake off post-show blues this morning, I high-tailed it to the flea market and found four fabulous vintage patterns for a price so low I dare not share it for fear you'll hate me.  Here they are: 

Vogue 7282, dating from 1936.  So Irene Dunne!



McCalls 4615, from 1942.  I thought this was a house coat, but the patterns says Misses Evening Dress.  With all those buttons?





Vogue Couturier 354, from 1940.  I love how the back of the pattern reads, Have Fur Collar Made By Furrier.  I'll get right on it.



Finally, McCall's 3640, from 1940.  This bathing suit pattern is a true gem, and can be made in both one-piece and two-piece versions.  Still with its factory folds, too.







So fun!

Friends, that's all I have for you today.  We're a bit exhausted, as you might imagine, but it was really great to perform together and to discover that we're a good onstage team.

And what have you been up to?

Happy Sunday, everybody!

My Favorite Gown

I'm a big old movie buff. 

In early April we talked about glamour, the good the bad, was it still around and did we even care.  For me, if there's one garment that epitomizes what glamour is all about, it's the evening gown.

In old movies, they're everywhere, in almost every film genre barring Westerns.  Gown designers often got their own screen credit (back when screen credits were brief) -- i.e., "Miss So-and-so's gowns by _______." 

It's amazing how prevalent gowns still are on the fashion runway, at "red carpet" pseudo events, and in films like Sex and the City.  Apart from the odd wedding, when does a woman wear a gown anymore?  It's like we're not ready to let them go.  I'd argue that gowns are more popular today than say, forty years ago.

There still are formal affairs like fundraisers and galas where women wear gowns, primarily in big cities.  But it's rare to see a woman who isn't wealthy or a celebrity wearing a gown.  Not good not bad, just the way things are.

I decided to choose my all-time favorite movie gown.  You've no doubt seen it before.  It's the feathered gown Ginger Rogers wore in the Cheek to Cheek number in Top Hat.  It was designed by Bernard Newman, apparently with a lot of input from Ms. Rogers herself.

I actually got to see the original at a Hollywood costume design exhibit Diana Vreeland organized at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in the mid-Seventies, a wonderful, wonderful show.  Let me tell you, Ginger Rogers was petite and Astaire wasn't much bigger.

The gown truly seems to come from another world: it floats, it's white (on screen at least; I think the real thing was pale blue so as to photograph better); it shines (on the satin mid section); it's fragile but also sturdy.  It bounces to the music and supports the mood of the lyrics.

You've probably heard the old story that Astaire hated the dress because the feathers had a tendency to fly off and stick to his tailcoat and in the film you can see a few feathers aloft.  Rogers was adamant about wearing it and I'm glad she stood her ground.  

If you've never seen it in motion, you must.  The dance itself starts at 2:10.



It's hard to separate a famous costume from the actor who wears it.  In this case, it was a perfect pairing.  No one wore -- or danced in -- a gown in quite the same way as Ginger Rogers.  Breathtaking.

As long as there's video, kids, glamour lives on!