My Love Affair with Mrs Peel...

Mrs. Peel (aka Diana Rigg)

Growing up in Detroit in the 1960s was an exciting time. We did, after all, have more than 3 channel on TV. We had the mighty CKLW from Windsor, Ontario, Canada. This meant there were lots of programs that originated in Great Brittan. At that time, in the mid 1960s, that meant London, Carnaby Street and Mod clothing.

The most important of these shows to me at that time, was The Avengers. We actually got the programs first run from England. Not only did it expand my culture (that’s what I told my mom), it also shaped the
blossoming fashion sense of a 13 year old girl. 

Growing up I had developed a “unique” fashion sense. Since I attended a catholic school, which was darn near impossible. We wore uniforms and were assigned a “color” of knee sox (NO HOSE) to wear, based on grade. I was once sent to the mother superiors lair for wearing the wrong color knee sox and another time for wearing a button that read “What Me Worry?” with a photo of Alfred E Neuman.

Somewhere in 1966, I was in the 6^th grade, I became obsessed with Mrs. Peel and the incredible designs she wore each week. Her style and grace was unmatched and typically British Mod. The timeless designs of John Varon (see earlier post) were perfect for Diana Riggs 5’ 9” frame. There were brightly colored dresses, suits and pants. Not to mention those leather togs.

I would grab a drawing pad and attempt to copy the designs.

I was blissfully unaware that the looks were not quite right for my 5’2” chubby frame. Since my mother (who was an excellent seamstress) made a lot of my clothes, we would modify patterns so that they had a designer quality. I remember particularly an Easter outfit of bright yellow and orange. I even purchase a pair of yellow patent leather shoes and a “Chanel” style quilted bag to match! Mod was my favorite style and still remains dear.

The school at last, relented and allowed us to wear go-go boots and “real” hose. Few of the nuns were happy about this change. Shortly after, in 1967 as the 7^th grade started, we began to conduct “guitar” masses. The times they were a-changin’.

My Love Affair with John Bates

Picture a chubby pre-teen girl in a bland plaid catholic school uniform with white go-go boots. That was me in 1964. Even at age 10 I was into fashion. I would scan magazines and TV ads for appealing items. I would “design” some of the outfits my mother painstakingly stitched for me. She was an excellent seamstress and could combine bits and pieces from several different patterns to achieve the “look” we wanted. All I know is when I wore a groovy outfit, I felt marvelous!

Since we lived in the Canadian border town of Detroit, we had ready access to British television shows. Enter The Avengers. Diana Rigg as Mrs. Emma Peel. Not only was she the model of the liberated woman who could do it all, she sported  the trendiest clothing and the most fabulous accessories including the previously mentioned gogo boots.

The  clothing designer who first defined Mrs. Peel’s  élan was John Bates.  His fashions underscored her character. That of the truly unencumbered  female. One minute she was in a feminine lacy dress with ruffles and pearls. The next in a one piece leather cat suit, of coarse, with matching boots.
 
Bates' designs for Emma Peel included leather cat suits, low slung trousers, empire waist mini and maxi dresses and jackets featuring PVC and Op Art designs. The garments not only made her look fantastic but were also fun and functional. Moreover, they were objects of lust and (verbose) desire for myself and all my friends.

At the age of 18 in 1957, Bates worked as an apprentice at the design house of Herbert Sidon, in London. He would then go on the be a fashion illustrator. In 1960 Bates introduced the Jean Varon label. The designs were fresh, bright and modern.  Bates’ collections were immensely popular in the London boutiques. They were sought after by trendsetters like Twiggy, Jean Shrimpton and Marianne Faithful.

Bates quipped,”I called it Jean Varon because at the time an English name like John Bates meant nothing, you had to appear to be French. Jean is French for John and Varon because there was no "V" in the rag trade book. Jean Varon made a good graphic image"

His creations were imitated and mimicked by many  American clothing companies. Very short minis, trouser suits, lace dresses, cat suits and tube dresses.  These styles seemed to define not only that particular time, but an attitude that a woman could be anyone she wished to be depending upon her couture. 

In the 1960’s there was even a Poppy Parker doll in Great Britain with outfits designed that closely resemble Bates creations. 

In 1965, one of his dresses with a mesh midriff was chosen as the Dress of the Year and donated to the Fashion Museum in Bath, which in 2006 held a major retrospective show of his work.

One of Bates' most influential champions was Marit Allen, the editor of British Vogue's Young Ideas. Allen considered Bates the true inventor of the miniskirt, rather than Mary Quant or André Courrèges. Bates designed a wedding ensemble for Marit Allen that is displayed in the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Allen  said of Bates, “John Bates loves short skirts, money, false eyelashes and Cilla Black. Hates English bras, big busts and any sort of foundation garment.”

Believe it or not some John Bates/Jean Varon items can be purchased online on Etsy and Ebay and other sites. Some at very reasonable prices.

My love affair with Betsey Johnson

Even as a child, I was always into fashion. I loved going through my mother’s closets and putting together outfits. I used to “design” outfits for my Tammy doll. Mother was an excellent seamstress and would stitch them together. Tammy had several “Sally-contour” outfits including an aqua leather jacket and skirt and several monogrammed dresses.

At that time when my father drove a cab on the weekends, to help pay for my private school education, he would stop at the huge newspaper stand in downtown Detroit and pick up a Sunday New York Times. When he would finally make it home from driving all night, I would literally attack him for the fashion section.

I loved looking at the latest in haute couture from Givenchy, Pucci, Lavin, and Chanel. The 1960s seemed to be a turning point in fashion. The shift from couture to ready-to-wear for designers was in full swing. It seemed the “average” woman no longer wanted to be average.

Betsey Johnson began her career in fashion in London by using non traditional materials such as car lining and shower curtain fabrics. Her designs were soon sought after by the likes of Twiggy, Julie Christie and Brigitte Bardot.

In 1971, at age 28, she won the Coty award for her influence on American fashion. In the early 1970’s she founded Alley Cat line and her ready-to-wear became very hot items. In 2003 Betsey branched out and began her accessories lines. Her bags and jewelry are well sought after. Her bubbly style, childlike enthusiasm and end-of-show cartwheels  have  influenced countless young designers and continues to do so.

I first saw Betsey Johnsons’ work in Seventeen magazine in the early 1970’s. It was a full  (and I do mean FULL) color article featuring her “Alley Cat” clothing line. It included pictures and a bio. It also had some of her “doodles”. I read it, I drooled over it, I slept with it under my pillow. Her work was everything I had been searching for!

Soon after, I discovered that Butterick had produced Betsey Johnson Alley Cat sewing patterns. My mother and I headed to the fabric store to purchase one (or 2, I think) and select the perfect fabric. That particular trip took 3 hours. Pairing just the right fabric (without breaking our budget) was time consuming. I found a bright apple green knit for the skirt and an apple print for the top. The suit fabric was to be a floral knit with a bone background and tiny flowers in muted pastel colors. The halter top was in a sea blue nylon.

I was so excited about the impending outfits I could hardly sleep--for days!

With my very first paycheck from my full-time job at Hudson’s in 1972,  I purchased an Alley Cat top and skirt that was on markdown. My mom wasn’t even mad. As a matter of fact, she loved it. My dad thought it was “too damn short!”

As soon as I could grow my hair long enough, I wore it braided up like hers with clips and barrettes.

Betsy Johnson’s vintage designs are still much loved. Her looks remain whimsical, fun, and current. A nice variety of vintage Betsy Johnson Alley Cat items can be found online at Etsy and Ebay.

Links:
Betsey Johnson’s Official site: http://www.betseyjohnson.com/category/index.jsp?categoryId=4399316

Etsy:
http://www.etsy.com/?ref=si_home

Boomer Christmas Memories

Some of my very favorite memories of Christmas have nothing to do with the cost of presents. In fact, most of the best of these tales have nothing at all to do with money. 

The sights and smells of my holiday have changed considerably over the years.

I am far too busy to stay at home and bake homemade goodies. In the 1960’s my mother had a litany of Christmas cookies, candies and even fruitcake. As she progressed in age, she felt guilty that she did not have the energy and time to prepare these. Especially her “Swedish Gems” cookies. Hers was the only fruitcake known to man, that did not cause recipients to run away in horror!

In the very early years of my childhood, after I had been adopted by my father and moved into the Edgevale house. Christmas eve was a very busy event as we always visited friends and neighbors. Of coarse, that was back when people actually purchased  put their trees up on Christmas eve. It was also a time when everyone knew all their neighbors. 

The older, more established neighbors  had a sort-of open house with lots of food and drink. Mother made either fruitcake or her famous Swedish gem cookies, which she presented in colorful holiday tins. She would get dressed up in her finest holiday gear  and we always ate too much and laughed and talked and shared.

In 1963, My mother worked keeping books for the man across the way who owned a five and dime shop after his wife suffered a stroke. Mother scrimped and saved every extra bit of money. She brought a baby doll, and lots of scraps of different fabric, from which she made and entire layette for my “baby Susie” as I named her. Daddy made a darling little rocking cradle for her and mother painted it pink.

In 1965, My father was laid off from his job at Chrysler and had to resort to driving a cab and tending bar. Both of these jobs were working for good family friends who knew my daddy needed a job and would work hard. Mom supplemented her income by working cleaning local houses. I now remember how very unhappy this made my father. However, we managed to have a very joyous Christmas. 

The Christmas of 1968, I managed to save a bit of money from my first real job at the five and dime and went shopping at Sears and Roebuck. I bought my mother a lovely blue woolen scarf and matching gloves. I brought daddy a nice red tartan plaid woolen shirt. Both of these items were $5.00 each. I even bought a Beatles album (I think Sgt Pepper?) for my best friend and a new dog dish for our poodle, Pierre.

By the time the 70s came around I was in high school and abhorred spending time with any member of my family. By then all of our established neighbors had moved to the suburbs or passed away.  We were the very last to leave our little subdivision. Soon, I would  have a family of my own. Being in the Air Force, we always seemed to be elsewhere for the holidays. On the years we did make it home, we had to endure no less than 4 Christmas dinners.

Which brings us to the present. My children have grown and have busy lives of their own. We seldom spend the holidays together. My hubby and I usually spend  December 24th and 25th working. This year, for the first time in years, he will be home and available until after the new year. We will have a quiet Christmas eve with our 4-legged-children enjoying our fireplace, some brandy and most likely, an episode of Sherlock Holmes.

I wish all my readers and friends the very best holiday! I would love to hear from you, please feel free to leave comments. See you in 2012!

GREENSTAMP REDEMPTION

I guess I’m really showing my age here. I remember S&H Green Stamps. For all the younger crowd out there, S & H (Sperry and Hutchinson) Green Stamps were given out at your local grocery, department store or gas station as a bonus. The stores purchased the stamps from S&H and used them to build customer loyalty. I believe you received one stamp for every 10 cents you spent. Of coarse, that was when a loaf of bread was 20 cents. You would then paste them in books and redeem the books for items in a catalog. In the early 1960s S &H distributed more stamps than the United States Post Office.

Saturday afternoon around 4 pm--somewhere between American Bandstand and Speed Racer, my mother’s radar told her it was time to come into my room, turn off my Sears Silvertone TV, dump the shoebox full of stamps on desk and tell me to “earn my keep.”  I hated this job. I prayed for a baby brother to come along so it would be his job.

The necessary tools for the job included a damp sponge on a plate to moisten the backs of the stamps. I almost always got them too wet. After an hour or so of the tedium, I would announce that I was finished by yelling,“I’m done!“ Invariably, there would be a vacant spot of 2-3 stamps in a book. I was thusly dispatched to the nearest store to buy a case of Faygo.

Filling the books was a chore, but nothing compared to the civil war that erupted when deciding what to redeem them on. Even the Brady kids had a problem regarding that expenditure.

I remember my mother being the authorized decision maker regarding the stamp books. She would almost always decide that she could not make a decision until she saw the item “in person.” We drove from 6 mile road to 26 mile road to the center. It was huge and in the middle of nowhere. It smelled like a new car.

My father pointed out that we needed a new carpet sweeper. My mother had her eye on an  Italian pottery lazy-susan. Mother dutifully tried out the carpet sweeper on the small piece of carpet laid out for demos. She decided to “look around.” Her eye then caught the object of her lust. The lovely Italian pottery lazy-susan she had seen in the full color catalog.  It was shinny and brightly painted with its round faux fruit bowl in the center. Dad knew he was out of luck. For weeks to follow friends and neighbors came to view the divine new centerpiece on the kitchen table. It was never used for food service, but it made a great catch all.

A  series of recessions during the 1970s decreased sales of green stamps and the stamp programs of their competitors.It was the end of an era. An end of dreams of possibilities.

THE END OF THE RIGHT STUFF

On July 20, 1969 Astronaut Neil Armstrong was the first man to set foot on the surface of the moon. I remember sitting in my living room in Detroit with my parents, watching on TV, along with almost every American. My father scoffed and believed it was a total waste of tax dollars. My mother thought it was faked and said it could not possibly be happening. That was 42 years ago. It was a time in our county when Americans had big dreams. It was a time when we truly asked, “Why not?” We did aim high and we made it happen.

There are many conspiracy theories surrounding the moon landing. It has been said that the whole thing was produced on a Hollywood soundstage. Having participated in the Space Program and interacting with numerous technicians. I actually met many of  the astronauts. I have to declare that, without a doubt, it did occur.

I was lucky to have witnessed the first landing of the Space Shuttle Columbia at Edwards Air Force base in 1981. I still remember that day as a highlight of my life. It is reported that there were 200,000 people there on that day. When the Air Force Band stuck up the Star Spangled Banner, everyone present was overcome by tears, pride, and relief simultaneously.

I understand a lot of Americans believe the space program is an enormous waste of time and money, but I must respectfully disagree. The technology that had to be formulated to make the moon landing possible has completely changed our daily lives. Because of NASA research and developments we have smoke detectors, cordless tools, laptop computers, cell phones, MRI machines, and microwave ovens.

As a child I was lucky to have seen the birth of NASA and the Space Program. I watched as, in 1961, Alan Shepard piloted Freedom 7. I witnessed, in 1986, the terrible heartbreak of the Challenger tragedy. Now, as an adult, in 2011, I am witnessing the end of not only the Space Program, but America’s future. It feels to me like the end of a dream.