 |
|
|
|
Mum's the Word: The author with her fashionable mom, Sari Curci, in 1947.
Remember When
Fabulous fashions would make playing dress-up a lot of fun
By Cookie Curci-Wright
As a lot of women who grew up in the 1940s, I recall with fondness my childhood days playing "dress-up" in my mother's old clothes. To me, there was nothing more enchanting on a rainy afternoon then slipping into my mother's castaway dresses, hats and shoes that she kept in an old chest that exuded fresh cedar and moth balls.
I could never forget the wondrous treasures it held: the shawls, made of pure madras lace; the finery; frills and out-of-fashion high heels; the veiled, sequined hats of fruit and feathers in colors as bright as my imagination.
The old cedar chest was also a repository for hand-me-down quilts, Halloween costumes and my baby clothes. Best of all, it contained an old shoebox where mom kept her stash of peeling pearls and other costume jewelry. There were gaudy, glamorous bangles and beads and mismatched earrings that sparkled like tiny stars on my ears and fingers.
All the elemental paraphernalia needed to play dress-up. I piled the jewelry on in layers over mom's 1940s silky chemise dresses. Then, wobbling along, with graceless steps, in her elevated platform shoes, I'd parade in front of the mirror.
Mom's wardrobe was inspired by glamorous movie stars of Hollywood's Golden Era. The padded shoulders of Joan Crawford, the fruity hats and gaudy jewelry of Latin bombshell Carmen Miranda, the slinky satin dresses of Rita Hayworth and the chic white wool suits and barrettes of Lana Turner.
Clothes were made of pure materials back then, such as silk, cotton and wool. I remember how Mom's stockings were made of pure silk with a long dark seam running down the back, which she had to continually check in the mirror. "Are my seams straight?" would become a familiar question asked by Mom and the ladies of the 1940s.
By the 1960s, kids still played dress-up, but not with the same fervor as the preceding generation. Women's clothes began to lose their glamour and the passion for playing dress-up began to fade. Gone were the fashion-setting movie stars that had inspired the glitz and copycat styles of the 1940s. They were replaced by shaggy rock stars such as Sonny and Cher, who wore jazzed up jeans and designer labels.
Synthetics, such as cotton-acetates, combinations of man-made and natural fiber, replaced the more luxurious materials. Housewives embraced these new fabrics that lasted longer, were easier to wash and didn't wrinkle like pure cotton. This new material was less expensive and made it possible for a wider selection of inexpensive garments to become available. Practicality was the catchword of the day. Housewives welcomed the new materials that put an end to long hard laundry days and no longer required them to starch their family's clothes.
The new materials were shrink proof and mothproof (no more smelly mothballs--remember those?). Synthetic fabrics from cellulose acetate, to nylon and polyester were a godsend to the busy housewife, who now began to fill her closet with these more practical dresses. And before we knew it the practical, functional, polyester "housedress" was born.
By the 1970s sleeveless T-shirts, tank tops and going bra-less had become the stereotype for the American female. When the California "muscle culture" emerged, the tank top became the practical way to showcase bulging biceps.
Blue jeans were the 1800s brainchild of Levi Strauss. His creation, made of heavy duty tent canvas, was meant to be worn by hardworking gold miners.
However, in the 1960s and '70s, the counterculture youth began to personalize their faded pants with patches, creative stitch work, painted messages and studded beadwork.
Later, a more subdued jeans market erupted ushering in Sassoon, Jordache and Calvin Klein. Ladies abandoned their dresses for pants, and women's fashions as we once knew them would never be the same.
By the mid-1980s, movies such as Annie Hall and Flashdance encouraged a more casual look. Flashdance star Jennifer Beal inspired a craze for the torn, off-the-shoulder sweat shirt worn over a tank top. Sweat gear and the ragamuffin look became popular for both men and women. In fact, it was getting more and more difficult to distinguish ladies' fashions from that of the male wardrobe.
The captivating movie stars that once inspired the latest vogue were gone from the scene and were replaced by rock stars such as Madonna.
Jogging shoes came along and before we knew it the last vestiges of style, panache and femininity were gone from the American woman's wardrobe. A one-size-fits-all kind of style prevailed and the clothes worn by housewives and mothers began to show the change.
Little girls don't play dress-up in their mommy's clothes as my generation once did because mommies and little girls pretty much dress alike these days, with blue jeans and sports tops and rubber-soled shoes.
Once considered a woman's crowning glory, the fanciful hat, a fashion trademark of the 1940s, is but a memory. Elegant white gloves are gone, too, and so is all that glitter and sparkle of costume jewelry.
Also missing is that luxurious feeling we once enjoyed when slipping into pure silk, chiffon, soft velvet, suede and fur. Feminine matching ensembles, once worn by America's moms, inspired a generation of little girls to play dress-up in their mother's frilly finery.
My mom is 83 years young now, she's long since exchanged those glitzy dresses and high-heeled shoes for more practical and comfortable wear. Her fading dresses and rusting jewelry are now relegated to old trunks, cedar chests and attic closets. But those memorable moments I spent playing dress-up in mom's fabulous wardrobe forever remain fresh in my memory.
|
|
|
|
Willow Glen, California Since 1992
