Over the last three years or so, an average of 7 inches has been cut from the length of most dresses that I might like the look of in regular stores. The current design trend on the high street for mere mortals is for dresses so short I could wear them as a shirt - and I am 5'4".
I don't feel happy or well-dressed baring my armpits and legs, never have done - so modesty is one of the things I cannot blame on the aging process. My preferred dress length is 'tea dress': smack in the middle of the knee or below; a skirt I'll take even longer: I have a smashing vintage Valentino grey wool circle skirt that falls mid-calf and looks stunning with heels, and am always on the look out for below-knee pencil skirts because, paired with the right heels they're a damned sexy item.
What feels and looks alluring is a personal matter, I know. For me it's a dance between what is hidden and revealed. Covered shoulders and arms can give greater impact to a hint of decolletage, ankles and calves can be eloquent.
So once more to the land of vintage.
But once in a while I find a place that seems to want to dress me; where the idea, taken for granted from the 1930s to 1962, that a dress on the female form should look as fascinating from behind as it does in front guides the pattern maker. That we come in different shapes that do occasionally go in and out.
In New Orleans there is a dress shop called Trashy Diva. It is full of dresses, skirts and blouses in cotton, flowing rayon, crepe de chine and silk. Clothes are made from vintage patterns and tweaked for current requirements. With styles ranging from 1930s inspired frocks to 1950s opera coats it's my idea of heaven. The main store behind Jackson Square is a little palace for trying-on, with lots of attractive shoes from L.A Re-Mix and Giraudon, many in custom shades that complement fabrics for the season, plus cabinets of accessories. There are comfortable seats, roomy changing cubicles, lighting is relaxing while doing the job, and any music played is appropriate and not blaring (bit of Armstrong, bit of the Boswell Sisters)
The women who work at Trashy Diva are very good at what they do: approachable, not pushy and fake, they know the stock and how it fits because they wear the designs themselves.
Fan-tailed skirts, curving blouses, halter dresses, all the designs are worked in colors and patterns featured for the season and some staples are re-worked over time, to meet the comfort requirements of customers.
I'm very fond of my Mansfield dress
It's made in soft but substantial jersey (not usually the friendliest fabric on me) that hangs perfectly, clinging only where it should. The bodice feels snug in a good, supportive way and the length gets my approval - but the sleeves and shoulders are what I love best - a perfect and flattering fit that gives the impression I have the most amazing and balanced proportions. Dress magic.
I couldn't afford the silk Ingrid dress
Sigh - beautifully fluid. The black panels prevent the sleeves from looking fey.And I was ok for shoes that day (oh who am I kidding - receiving treatment for a long-established obsession with Re-Mix, thank you for your concern, now go to the web site, why should I suffer alone?).
So, it was one of those rare things: a pleasant, inspiring shopping experience in the real world. And it did me good.
If you'd like to transform yourself and can't get to New Orleans any time soon, take a look at the Trashy Diva site. Those elegant and competent ladies will gladly take your details and help you choose.
I'm waiting for this little number
Darling, I recently had cause to put on a frock for the first time in, I think, 20 years. I had no choice in the frock itself, as I had an official dresser who was in charge of the whole show. And I had bare arms and an open back. I hated it and didn't want to take my jacket off, especially as there were shapely homosexuals present who would pour scorn on my shapelessness. (And the shaving took hours.) But I was pleased with the length. Well below the knee and I was wearing huge, fuck-off boots so not a drop of legly skin was exposed.
ReplyDeleteI have also vowed never to wear make-up again.
Pleite - Horrid not to be allowed to choose the dress - scary like a bridesmaid.
ReplyDeleteI do like backless dresses: surprising ones with demure fronts. But I don't think I would so much if I had to shave....
One of the things I find most boring about middle age is having to wear face foundation make-up. Never used to need it - imagine! Groan.
You suffered for your art but I hope the show was a success. Did you sing?
I know exactly what you mean about skirt lengths. One board I hang out on regularly features young people posting dresses they plan on buying and everyone seems to think that 10" above the knee is a perfectly normal and respectable length.
ReplyDeleteWow! Beautiful, I wish we had something like that here. I have legs like a baby elephant's.
ReplyDeleteI wish I'd seen BiB in a dress too.
Annie does not have legs like a baby elephant's, let me just quickly say.
ReplyDeleteMy dressing up (or being dressed and made up) was just for a friend's birthday. But I did have to walk down the street in the frock. Shouts from a car and a woman who told me I looked lovely as I went to get money from a cash-point. Quite fun. But no singing, alas.
I bemakeup my nose to hide the alcoholism but that's as far as it goes. Found it agony having big make-up on for a whole night.
GSE - Encapsulated in the micro-mini pouffy-skirt? I saw a young woman dancing in one of these recently. As she hopped from one long leg to the other, I was reminded of that old advert for PG Tips tea - you know, the one with the chimpanzee in a dress. Dignity where art thou?
ReplyDeleteAnnie - But you have Top Shop! Ouch.
ReplyDeletePleite - You are, of course, correct.
ReplyDeleteI'm learning all about nose make-up. Very pale skin before cancer surgery, the red vein issue is worse post-op. Tried a little laser treatment and although it works temporarily, I didn't like the long, scabby healing process. My nose is kind of "out there", poor thing.