For Fall 2020, Black is Once Again "The New Black"
The recent Fall 2020 Designer Collection runway shows have repeated the news that same-ol’ same-ol’ black is again the last word, a predestined top trend. More than just an expected, safe color story, black is a powerful dark force that expresses a sad state of affairs inspiring designers to create fashions that bring to mind monastic mourning. Everybody’s doing it. Many designers often choose to open and close their shows with dramatic black.
The ever-popular Black Statement that never ends: Akris, Balenciaga, Givenchy.
LBD The Little Black Dresses: Celine, Valentino, Chanel.
The Black Great Coats: Chanel, Valentino, Valentino.
The Practical Black Pantsuits: Balenciaga, Louis Vuitton, Christian Dior.
The Comfy Black Knitwear: Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana, Dolce & Gabbana.
The Genderless Black Tuxedoes: Balenciaga, Alexander McQueen, Celine.
The Black Evening Dramatics: Alexander McQueen, Burberry, Burberry.
The Black Sexy Styles: Burberry, Christian Dior, Alberta Ferretti.
The recent Fall 2020 Designer Collection runway shows have repeated the news that same-ol’ same-ol’ black is again the last word, a predestined top trend. More than just an expected, safe color story, black is a powerful dark force that expresses a sad state of affairs inspiring designers to create fashions that bring to mind monastic mourning. Everybody’s doing it. Many designers often choose to open and close their shows with dramatic black.
The ever-popular Black Statement that never ends: Akris, Balenciaga, Givenchy. |
LBD The Little Black Dresses: Celine, Valentino, Chanel. |
The Black Great Coats: Chanel, Valentino, Valentino. |
The Practical Black Pantsuits: Balenciaga, Louis Vuitton, Christian Dior. |
The Comfy Black Knitwear: Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana, Dolce & Gabbana. |
The Genderless Black Tuxedoes: Balenciaga, Alexander McQueen, Celine. |
The Black Evening Dramatics: Alexander McQueen, Burberry, Burberry. |
The Black Sexy Styles: Burberry, Christian Dior, Alberta Ferretti. |
Vintage Coloring Book Black-Out
Every issue of my monthly blog includes a few pages from one of the coloring books in my vintage collection. Having noted that black is once again a strong story fashion story for Fall 2020, I am braced for a tsunami of the darkest of dark. Anticipating the coming over-abundance of black, I decided to jump on the black bandwagon as I colored four pages of coloring book fashions worn by Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor, Jane Russell, Greer Garson, Jeanette MacDonald and Betty Grable.
Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor make a splash posing in black swimsuits.
Jane Russell and Greer Garson in old-fashioned new-again black.
Jeanette MacDonald and Betty Grable in swirling pink and white stripes on a black ground.
Every issue of my monthly blog includes a few pages from one of the coloring books in my vintage collection. Having noted that black is once again a strong story fashion story for Fall 2020, I am braced for a tsunami of the darkest of dark. Anticipating the coming over-abundance of black, I decided to jump on the black bandwagon as I colored four pages of coloring book fashions worn by Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor, Jane Russell, Greer Garson, Jeanette MacDonald and Betty Grable.
Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor make a splash posing in black swimsuits. |
Jane Russell and Greer Garson in old-fashioned new-again black. |
Jeanette MacDonald and Betty Grable in swirling pink and white stripes on a black ground. |
Aquatic Fantasies Perpetuate Mermaid Legends
I confess I must have been a somewhat strange little boy. The kids in my semi-rural Ohio neighborhood spent summer week-ends playing baseball or riding their Schwinn bicycles on the dusty roads. Not me. I spent Saturday afternoons at the Vine Theatre in Willoughby, a nearby one-horse town.
In my pocket was a quarter carefully wrapped in a clean handkerchief. In those days, so long ago, 25 cents went a long way. Ten cents took care of admission, an especially good bargain since I always watched the movie three times until my father came to pick me up in the evening. Fifteen cents went for popcorn and candy (long-lasting Necco wafers. I honestly didn’t really care what was showing. I happily watched every movie, again and again.
Hollywood’s output made an indelible impression on my young mind. I usually liked best a Technicolor musical but I vividly recall one black-and-white (1948) comedy that held me spellbound. Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid. It starred aging leading man, William Powell as a comic fisherman who hooked a comely mermaid played by delectable Ann Blyth. Mr. Peabody took home his catch and put her in a bubbling bathtub. But he couldn’t convince anyone that his mermaid was real. The film was a popular hit, cracking witty jokes about Mr. Peabody’s probable mid-life crisis hallucination. As a seven-year-old, I doubt that I picked-up the movie’s sophisticated humor, but I was absolutely enchanted by Ann Blyth’s adorable, often underwater, mimed performance.
I returned from the movie in a trance and immediately got out my sketchpad and crayons, proceeding to draw endless variations on mermaids with varied fishtails styles. Ever since I shared Mr. Peabody’s obsession with his aquatic crush I have continued to hope that someday, some lucky fisherman will land a real mermaid at last. Meanwhile I’ll keep hoping and enjoy the rare mermaid sightings in a few films and as a few paper dolls over the years.
A very popular 1984 mermaid movie was Splash, starring Daryl Hannah. Doris Day donned an exotic mermaid get-up in The Glass-Bottom Boat (1966). Miranda (1948) was a light comedy British film with Glynis Johns in a wheelchair to hide her water wearable scales and tail. It’s the same ruse employed by Bette Midler as Delores DeLago in her concert appearances as well as the film of her season in Las Vegas at Caesars Palace (2009). The biggest mermaid movie ever was Disney’s animated classic, The Little Mermaid (1989).
These mermaid movie memories inspired the costume I created for Bruce Patrick Jones' dress-a-doll that will appear in the upcoming"By the Sea" issue of OPDAG's Paper Doll Studio magazine.
Dress-a-Doll Costume for OPDAG's Paper Doll Studio Issue 127, Adverts for Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid.
Doris Day and Ann Blyth as cinematic mermaids.
Daryl Hannah was a glamorous amphibian in Splash. Bette Midler as a wild 'n crazy wheelchair-bound mermaid named Delores DeLago.
I confess I must have been a somewhat strange little boy. The kids in my semi-rural Ohio neighborhood spent summer week-ends playing baseball or riding their Schwinn bicycles on the dusty roads. Not me. I spent Saturday afternoons at the Vine Theatre in Willoughby, a nearby one-horse town.
In my pocket was a quarter carefully wrapped in a clean handkerchief. In those days, so long ago, 25 cents went a long way. Ten cents took care of admission, an especially good bargain since I always watched the movie three times until my father came to pick me up in the evening. Fifteen cents went for popcorn and candy (long-lasting Necco wafers. I honestly didn’t really care what was showing. I happily watched every movie, again and again.
Hollywood’s output made an indelible impression on my young mind. I usually liked best a Technicolor musical but I vividly recall one black-and-white (1948) comedy that held me spellbound. Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid. It starred aging leading man, William Powell as a comic fisherman who hooked a comely mermaid played by delectable Ann Blyth. Mr. Peabody took home his catch and put her in a bubbling bathtub. But he couldn’t convince anyone that his mermaid was real. The film was a popular hit, cracking witty jokes about Mr. Peabody’s probable mid-life crisis hallucination. As a seven-year-old, I doubt that I picked-up the movie’s sophisticated humor, but I was absolutely enchanted by Ann Blyth’s adorable, often underwater, mimed performance.
I returned from the movie in a trance and immediately got out my sketchpad and crayons, proceeding to draw endless variations on mermaids with varied fishtails styles. Ever since I shared Mr. Peabody’s obsession with his aquatic crush I have continued to hope that someday, some lucky fisherman will land a real mermaid at last. Meanwhile I’ll keep hoping and enjoy the rare mermaid sightings in a few films and as a few paper dolls over the years.
A very popular 1984 mermaid movie was Splash, starring Daryl Hannah. Doris Day donned an exotic mermaid get-up in The Glass-Bottom Boat (1966). Miranda (1948) was a light comedy British film with Glynis Johns in a wheelchair to hide her water wearable scales and tail. It’s the same ruse employed by Bette Midler as Delores DeLago in her concert appearances as well as the film of her season in Las Vegas at Caesars Palace (2009). The biggest mermaid movie ever was Disney’s animated classic, The Little Mermaid (1989).
These mermaid movie memories inspired the costume I created for Bruce Patrick Jones' dress-a-doll that will appear in the upcoming"By the Sea" issue of OPDAG's Paper Doll Studio magazine.
Dress-a-Doll Costume for OPDAG's Paper Doll Studio Issue 127, Adverts for Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid. |
Doris Day and Ann Blyth as cinematic mermaids. |
Daryl Hannah was a glamorous amphibian in Splash. Bette Midler as a wild 'n crazy wheelchair-bound mermaid named Delores DeLago. |
Progress Report: Anna May Wong
I am just beginning to research the life and look of 1920s cinematic trailblazer, exotic, expressive Anna May Wong. A native Angeleno, born to second generation Chinese-American parents, she had to battle being frequently cast as a villainous dragon lady or the rejected other woman. Frustrated by miscegenation laws of the time that prevented interracial couples onscreen, beauteous Miss Wong moved to Europe in 1928. She learned French and German, starred in hit films, plays and operettas. She also became a fashion icon of the Jazz Age, later returning to the U.S. continuing to fight discrimination. I am fascinated and inspired, delighted to be working on this new paper doll book to be published by Paper Studio Press early next year.
Worksheet studies for Anna May Wong paper doll book.
I am just beginning to research the life and look of 1920s cinematic trailblazer, exotic, expressive Anna May Wong. A native Angeleno, born to second generation Chinese-American parents, she had to battle being frequently cast as a villainous dragon lady or the rejected other woman. Frustrated by miscegenation laws of the time that prevented interracial couples onscreen, beauteous Miss Wong moved to Europe in 1928. She learned French and German, starred in hit films, plays and operettas. She also became a fashion icon of the Jazz Age, later returning to the U.S. continuing to fight discrimination. I am fascinated and inspired, delighted to be working on this new paper doll book to be published by Paper Studio Press early next year.
Worksheet studies for Anna May Wong paper doll book. |