Bally-Who?

Ya know what? Christophe Decarnin can kiss my fashionista butt.

As we all now by now, this Balmain jacket is All The Rage.

And as we all also know, it's expensive as hell. (More expensive than hell -- I dunno about you, but I'm sure I could achieve eternal damnation for lots less than 11 large.) And we also know that Style Spy has a thing for jackets of the quasi-military/musical sort.

She also has the best shopping kung-fu, even in a vintage store, because last weekend I got my grubby little paws on this:




Eh-yep. From my favorite vintage dealer, Connie Ray, over at the Austin Antique Mall. (I love the Antique Mall. I love it for its many and varied treasures. I also love it because they almost always have a candy bowl filled with those teeny Tootsie Rolls on the counter where you check out. Style Spy does loooooove her a Tootsie Roll.)

I'm crazy about this silly thing, I think it is fantastic.




It's a tailcoat! How fab is that?! It is an authentic band jacket (made by a company called Sol Frank) and it's in brilliant shape. Also, it came with this:


It's a dickey for the jacket and when it's all buttoned on it looks like this:



Which is not really the look we're after, but I get a tremendous giggle out of the fact that it's there at all. It's just one reason this jacket is better than the Balmain. Another reason? This:



This is the tag on the inside of the jacket. According to the tag, this jacket was part of the band uniform for a school called "Bellville," and was made for a young lady named Connie Prokoff. It says here that Connie was 5'2", weighed 120 pounds, has a 26" waist and a 28" inseam. Which is a lot of information to get about someone from her jacket, huh? But I am utterly and completely charmed by it. What instrument do we think Connie played? Petite as she was, I'm going to guess flute. See, this is the great thing about vintage clothes -- they have a soul, and a history.

The last reason this jacket is better than Balmain is that it did not cost anywhere even close to $11K. This is a very good thing in a jacket, in my opinion.

Now. Being as I already have a great band jacket, I'm feeling a little guilty about adding this one to the wardrobe. So I've decided to share the wealth and put it on offer to any of my readers who are ballsy fashion-forward enough to wear it (frankly, I think it's got Wendy B written all over it, but that's just me). If you love this jacket as much as I do, it's yours for 50 bucks and the price of postage. (It's heavy, I think once boxed up it's going to be about five pounds -- click here to calculate the cost of a five-pound package from Austin to wherever you might be.) I will send it internationally, provided you pony up enough postage, and don't forget to include the price for insurance in the postage calculation.

It's a fairly small jacket (like I said, Miss Prokoff was petite) -- it fits American size 4 me pretty perfectly. It isn't made to close up in the front unless you wear the ruffled dickey with it, so take that into account. If anyone has any questions about it, feel free to leave them in the comments here or contact me at shine at austin dot rr dot com.

I'll tell ya, between this and my lace t-shirt DIY, I'm starting to feel like I could take over at Balmain...



Images: Streetpeeper.com, Style Spy

Style Spy Does the D.I.Y.

Sometimes your friend Style Spy isn't very bright. And sometimes she gets lucky & figures stuff out. To wit:

I bought this Alice + Olivia blouse... oh, a while ago. Months. Longer.



and I've never worn it. I bought it because it was down to nothing at the NM outlet and I liked the way it fit and I liked the lace and thought it would be a great layering piece. But I never wore it because of those sleeeeeeeeeves.



That is a lot of sleeve. It's pretty and all, but really not my thing. I'm way too grown up for that whole Stevie Nicks/Renn Faire thing (Hear ye, hear ye! If ye can legally rent ye olde automobile, ye are too old for princess clothes!!); not to mention you can only wear this if you know you're not going to be eating anything, and who wants to limit herself like that?

(Style Spy gets her Stevie Nicks on)

(Remember how I told you the Wacaol nude was perfect for me? Check that out. I forgot to put on a camisole before I took these pictures, but you can barely see that bra!)

So the top has been languishing in the closet all this time. I've put it on a few times & tried to make it work, but it just never did.

In the meantime, I've fallen for this lovely, from Balmain.

I don't like to jump on the All-Worship-Balmain bandwagon, but I do really love that lace t-shirt.

So. Inspired by some excellent D.I.Y. I've been seeing on some of my favorite blogs, like Garance Dore's, I had lightning bolt and realized how to solve both of these dilemmas in one stroke:

(Two strokes, actually. One for each sleeve.)

And the result:

(Remembered the camisole for this one.)

Muuuuuch better, wouldn't you agree? Pretty, stylish, and useful! I do feel a wee twinge about the loss of all that pretty lace, but I'll hang onto it. It'll make for a lovely pocket square or something. I also think I'm going to go back & shorten the sleeves just a bit more -- this length is just not... quite.

It was the right thing to do. I've already worn it. I wore the night I did it, as a matter of fact, out for a glass (who are we kidding, a bottle) of wine with a friend.

(Gap shorts, Golde sequined vest, Marni platforms, various vintage necklaces)

I really liked the way this outfit worked, except the sequins snagged a bit on the lace, so I may not wear it with this particular vest again. It's still the look I was after -- I need to continue t keep my eye peeled for a vest with this silhouette, sans sequins.

So. I'm officially crafty. Whaddya think?

Images: Style Spy, Polyvore.com, Style.com, Vogue

Been There, Done That

Earlier this week I talked about the marching band/military jackets from Balmain that have become the Fashionista uniform lately.

(It's okay if you hate the jeans. I hate them, too. I'm very attracted to the shoes, however.)

These things are all the rage right now, but I would like to point out that Marc Jacobs did this look quite a while back. Fall of 2002, to be specific.

I would also like to point out that I did it long before Marc Jacobs...



This is an actual band uniform from Southwest Texas State University. (This school has undergone several changes in name, so based on that and the materials I can date the jacket to probably sometime in the early 70's.) I found this in a vintage shop eons ago and have been wearing it ever since. This? Is definitely one of the pieces in my wardrobe that raises a few eyebrows, but I never cared. I love this thing. And when Jacobs showed his version a couple of years after I got mine, I was the Very Definition of Smug.




To start with, it's beautifully made of a really heavy wool twill -- it's a great coat for cool weather. The silhouette is very sharp, and it is nothing if not eye-catching. You may have already seen this jacket if your read the fabulous Wendy B's blog, but I don't think I've featured it here before.

When I bought this, it had the original pants that came with the uniform, which have since disappeared goodness knows where, and it also had a huge rope of gold braid that looped through one of the epaulets. Dunno where that is, either. Which is fine. The gold braid is a wee bit overkill.

Of course, some folks think the entire thing is a wee bit overkill to begin with and to them I say, "Ppppppffffttttt!" I love this jacket and I always have. Yes, of course, people call me "Sgt. Pepper" when I wear it and no, I don't care other than to pity them for being unable to come up with anything more original to say.

I'd say I bought this jacket more than ten years ago, but here's one I've had even longer than that:




This is a Naval Academy mess jacket that I inherited from the costume shop of the theater where I went to college.



It is a beautiful thing made of heavy, sleek black wool and I have had it for a very long time -- I acquired this while I was in graduate school, so it's been with me since roughly 1987 or so. The head of our costume department figured it was unlikely she'd ever need to use it -- it's pretty small -- and when she saw how much I loved it she very generously handed it over. (A note to aspiring actors: being able to sew is a very useful skill in this field. It makes it possible for you to occasionally pop your head into the chronically understaffed costume shop and nonchalantly ask if there's anything you can help with. This will result in two things: 1) your costumes will always be finished before final dress, when all the other actors are still safety-pinning themselves into their corsets and 2) the odd fantastic piece of vintage or custom clothing will trickle down to you because you are such a nice, helpful, and available person.)




Only the most churlish among you will not admit this is a fantastic-looking little item. Look at the seaming on the back:




Gorgeous. I've been wearing it all these years with the sleeves rolled, but I think it's time to take it in to the tailor and get them properly shortened. It deserves no less.

And so, while Fashionistas around the globe are swooning for those Balmain jackets, I'm feeling very blasé about the whole thing. Been there, done that. And for waaaaaaaay less than $11,000.

One more thing. These jackets are further proof, if you needed it, that if you see a garment that speaks to you, that makes your heart leap, you should get it. Whether or not it's on trend or in style or all that jazz -- if you love it, get it & wear it & keep wearing it. I had no idea 20 years ago that some shaggy French guy was going to create versions of my jackets that would drop magazine editors to their knees in worship, and it wasn't like I hung them in my closet thinking, "One day these will be in style." I just loved 'em. I still do. And when those Balmains are popping up in re-sale boutiques all over New York, I still will.


Photos: style.com, Style Spy

Expensive Girls in Expensive Clothes

This is a $15,000 outfit:

"What?" you ask. "Why? How on earth is that $15,000 worth of clothes?" And the answer is, "Because it is Balmain."

Which, if you ask me, is not actually all that good a reason. Those silly, acid-washed, ripped-up jeans? Cost over $2000 on Net-A-Porter, and they are All The Rage.

What Rachel Zoe hath wrought.

As is that pagoda-shouldered jacket that Poshie is wearing here. This thing is catnip for the Fashionistas -- apparently you are no longer allowed to work for Vogue unless you're sporting one:

Anya Ziourova, stylist & fashion director at Chinese Vogue

Barbara Martelo, stylist at Spanish Vogue

(What has she got in that pocket???)

Martelo again, in the denim "marching band" version. Christophe Decarnin, who designs Balmain, started doing this jacket last season and has pulled it into his most recent runway show as well.

Anna della Russo, fashion director at Japanese Vogue

Emmanuelle Alt, fashion director at Paris Vogue

D'ya reckon they got a discount for buying in bulk? Although perhaps these women didn't pay for these jackets. When you're a fashion director at Vogue I'm guessing the schwag is pretty darned good. I don't know who Balmain's marketing director is, but she/he sure is earning her daily bread. Balmain's short (short!), shiny (shiny!) dresses have been all over various red carpets and at Important Events, worn by very good-looking women with lots & lots of money.

Gwyneth Paltrow

Socialite Lauren Santo Domingo, she of the custom-designed Olivier Theyskens wedding dress

Julia Restoin-Roitfeld, daughter of Carine Roitfeld of French Vogue

Oh my god, I hate that hair. Someone hand Strapless Snow White here a scrunchie, s'il vous plait.

There was a party. In Moscow. Wackiness ensued.

Jennifer Connelly, praying no one asks her to sit down.

Some random Victoria's Secret model whose name I can't be bothered to double-check. I can't help it -- when I see this picture, I hear John Cleese's voice in my head saying, "Ah suck in mah cheeks in your general dee-rection!"

I have to confess, I've had a bit of an emperor's-new-clothes reaction to Balmain so far. The stuff certainly is eye-catching, but I just don't love it. There were a couple of looks that came down the runway for the Fall 09 collection that I liked well enough:

This is a silhouette I've been working myself quite a bit of late (minus the pagoda shoulders)

and I do kind of love this -- it's one of my favorite dress-up MO's, the super-special skirt and the nonchalant top.

But I don't find anything all that inspiring about Decarnin's clothing in general. It seems to me that this is a very traceable riff on the vacuum-sealed-leg silhouette that Ghesquiere made really hot at Balenciaga a few seasons ago and that continues to torture inspire us, along with a sprinkling of those super-short party dresses that look like someone went after the Hervé Leger archives with pinking shears and a Bedazzler.

Good heavens! Well... it's... um, it's a great color, huh?

I don't care if Olivier Theyskens did the bi-level hem thing at Nina Ricci, I'm never going to get on board with this. It gives me Demi Moore flashbacks -- I will never be able to un-remember that dress.

This is just bad. This looks like a Project Runway challenge -- create a garment made from things you find at Pep Boys!

I haven't even fully come to terms with regular harem pants yet, and now you give me harem pants slit up to my waist? Mr. Decarnin, I don't feel that my needs are being addressed here...

This dress is kinda cool, in a completely inaccessible way. (Or maybe it's just that you could wrap Carmen Kass in a moth-eaten bathmat and she'd make it look fantastic.) I'm sure some pop music princess or lingerie model will be sporting it on some red carpet somewhere soon. But this is not real-life fashion; this is not even real-life dress-up fashion. I have pillowcases that have more fabric than this does.

Balmain has been the hot label among the hardest of the hard-core Fashionista set the last few seasons -- the stylists and editors and so-chic-it-hurts-to-hug-them Parisian women who mill about in the Jardin des Tuileries between fashion shows. I do not look at this stuff and see a lot that I or other regular folks can incorporate into my everyday fashion life, but it's dawning on me that maybe this is why it's so popular among this set. Certainly, sporting a jacket like the one above marks you as a fashion insider. Even more than that, it marks you as the kind of person who spends $11K on a jacket. A pretty tiny person who spends $11K on a jacket -- Net-A-Porter seems not to have offered these in any size above a 42, which probably translates roughly to an American 6, based on their size charts. Even more amazing? They're almost all sold out.

This dress:

retails for very nearly 20,000 American dollars (click on the photo if you don't believe me) and is available on LuisaviaRoma.com in exactly one size -- a French 38. According to Net-A-Porter, you have to have hips smaller than 36" to squeeze into a Balmain size 38 skirt. I'd say that was stupid because they were eliminating a huge part of the buying public, but who am I kidding? The kind of people who spend that kind of money on that kind of dress also have the means to maintain 36" hips, whatever it takes.

So. One wears Balmain because one is A) rich, B) in the know, and C) skinny.

I'll bear that in mind should I ever join the Rich, Skinny, In The Know Sorority. Not sure I'm interested in joining, though. I don't even want to know what the initiation ceremony must be like...





Photos: denimblog.com, instyle.com, style.com, jakandjil.com, streetpeeper.com, thesartorialist.com

The Golden Age

At the Victoria and Albert Museum in London there is currently a wonderful exhibit called The Golden Age of Couture. If you are going to be anywhere NEAR London before January 8, don't miss it. It's fantastic. Did you ever play that game where you pick which historical era you would like to have lived in? Well, for me, it would be post-World War II, the late 1940's through the 1950's. Oh, sure, I know it wasn't the most enlightened time socially speaking, and that our "Happy Days" perception of it in this country is rose-tinted and inaccurate. And perhaps there are more compelling periods to live in, intellectually or sociologically. But the truth of the matter is that I'm really not interested in living without either soap or mascara (not to mention a cocktail here & there), so I'm sorry, Versailles during Louis XIV is right out. But in 1947, there was soap, martinis, lipstick & eyeliner, good jazz, automobiles, and women got to look like this:

This is the Bar Suit from Christian Dior's 1947 New Look Collection. It's my ideal; my favorite silhouette of all time -- romantic and feminine and pretty darned swoony. Of course, I realize that the above is advertising photography and looking at it and saying that "women in 1947 looked like this" is roughly akin to saying "women of 2007 look like this" while perusing photos of Catherine Zeta-Jones at a red carpet event, but let's leave my fantasy alone, shall we? Had I been alive in 1947, I would ALWAYS have looked like this. End of discussion.

Hard as it is to believe, the New Look was rather shocking and revolutionary for its time. Remember, during WWII there was fabric rationing and all kinds of shortages -- this skirt, with its yards and yards and yards of fabric, was positively decadent. And many people now look on it as a step backwards for women -- during the War women had been brought into positions that were abandoned by men off fighting, working in factories and offices and making real strides forward in independence and power. After all the soldiers came home, the New Look signified women's return to a submissive role -- the soft shoulders, the wasp waist, the enormous, movement-inhibiting skirt. Still, it's pretty hard to argue with this

as a fabulous way to look.

The V&A exhibit focuses specifically on the world of post-War couture, so what they have on display is work from some of the most important designers of the 40's and 50's and it's truly wonderful to look at. The exhibit itself is... well, it's not the best-designed museum exhibit I've ever atttended, although it is chock-full of jaw-droppingly beautiful things. It's a crowded and not extremely well-organized -- don't take a large backpack or a child in a stroller, because there isn't a lot of space. There isn't a strictly organized traffic flow for any of it; so while I appreciate not being herded around like livestock, what I wound up feeling like was a rat in a maze, except not all the rats were going in the same direction so periodically there would be big clumps of rats that would reach a sort of impasse, or there would be one rat who wanted to spend longer in front of one dress or go back and compare it to another dress and that rat was prevented from doing so by the pack or just inconvenienced all the other rats by swimming upstream... okay, you get the picture. Enough with the rodent metaphor, and please don't think it in any way indicates that I don't think the exhibit is worthwhile, because it is not possible to feel rat-like while gazing on something like this:


This is the back of a gown by my beloved Cristobal Balenciaga, mid-50's. Breathtaking.

Balmain, 1957

Antonio Castillo for Lanvin-Castillo, 1957. The embroidery on this bodice is done by the firm of Lesage, still in existence today.

This tartan gown is by Jaques Fath from 1949. It was made for a member of British royalty, as I recall, for a state occasion. (Must remember to take notes!!)


Beaded and embroided pink satin shoes by Roger Vivier for Dior, late 50's. Swoon.



Gorgeous couture tailoring by Michael Donéllan in 1954. There is a large assortment of suiting by Donéllan, Balenciaga, Creed, Chanel, and others in the exhibit. A good suit is just as difficult (maybe more so) to make than a stunning evening gown, and the Fashionista in me was so frustrated that I couldn't climb up on the dais, take these things off the mannequins, and turn them inside-out to examine the cutting and seaming.

Balmain organza extravaganza, about 1950. Wheeeeee!!!

Silk brocade from Givenchy, mid-50's. This dress makes obvious why so many of Balenciaga's clients turned to Givenchy after Balenciaga closed his atelier.



Dior, 1957. I don't care who you are -- you put on this dress and you are instantly the most gorgeous thing in the room.

Worth, late 50's

Spectacularly beaded & embroidered velvet from Dior, 1956. This dress is cocktail length. You know, so it's more practical...

More Dior, black silk velvet and faille, 1949-50.

This is my favorite. Red silk chiffon from Jean Dessés, 1953. I'm pretty sure this dress dances all by itself. This is the dress of my dreams -- in this dress I would be perfectly perfect. I would drink nothing but champagne. I would have no split ends. My feet would never hurt. I would be as witty as a Phillip Barry play. I would dance divinely, my dear. Men in tuxedos would pursue me, planning to buy me jewels. Other women might hate me. I would not care.

Sigh.

The exhibit also has a really wonderful section of photography, with work by people like Richard Avedon and Irving Penn, among others, including this one:

Dovima with the Elephants, Richard Avedon, 1955 (The gown is Dior.)

The models in the photos from this period are so elegant, so beautiful, so witty, desirable, glamorous, so soignée... so everything we idealize in feminine beauty. They are positively inspirational. (And made me want even more to never, ever again see some grubby, hollow-eyed teenaged girl in need of a bath and about a dozen good meals modeling clothes.) I saw this exhibit with my wonderful friend Caroline, who is probably the best amateur photographer I know (and could give a lot of professionals a good run for their money) and she took this photo of me as an homage to them:


I've got nothing on Dovima or Lisa Fonssagrives-Penn, but I do what I can.

(You can see more of Caro's beautiful photos here. Check 'em out, you won't be sorry.)

I was not allowed to take photographs at the exhibit, but the nice people in the gift shop foolishly sold me a book of postcards, not guessing that I had a scanner and nefarious motives. But do take a gander at the truly great website that the V & A has put together for this exhibit. It has tons of information, a really interesting interactive timeline, and great photos. Look it over and plan your wardrobe for when we finally achieve time travel...

Photos: Victoria and Albert Museum, Caroline Charles