My Fashion History 2

We are up to 1960. Supposedly the years of the beatnik, free love etc. Well this was ordinary suburban 14 year old was wearing as casual wear.

Still socks, but tightish around the chest, nothing lose. My friend had lost her pony tail. By this stage we were in high school and no longer inseparable. Different classes and beginning to make different friends.

However we were starting to date. Here’s me ready to go out on a date. He’s wearing a tie and “casual” suit. Always a jacket and tie for special events for the boys and a shirt with a collar. Notice the hanky in his breast pocket.

Dig the shoes. I had graduated to high heels and stockings. Very modest neckline. I don’t remember cleavages amongst teenagers like they do now. I do know that all my dresses were very modest in that respect. Also felt we were really “out there” with the length of the dresses. Showing a bit of knee sometimes. Again, tight through the top and very flared through the bottom. I was certainly never the height of fashion. Mom made all my clothes, but this was the fashion my peers were wearing. This was taken in November 1960 so there would have been a coat to go over the top. If I remember, the dress was a rich blue.

Interesting. Here’s me wearing the same dress, but with socks and shoes rather than stockings. So at 14 I was still wearing socks and stockings. I suspect it had something to do with the price of stockings and that they kept getting holes in them. Knowing me I had probably wrecked my last pair of stockings and had to wear socks !!

1961 Formal and casual wear for 15 year olds in Montreal.

May 1961 and July 1961, my 15^th Birthday. I’d obviously had my hair cut in between. The dress I think was a sort of taffeta. I’m not sure how to describe it. Interesting that we were allowed to show our knees in shorts, but not in dresses.

Obviously that corner of the lounge was out photo taking spot. Funny I don’t remember that picture on the wall (the dancer) but it’s in a lot of the photographs.

The stereo in the left picture was my father’s pride and joy. I’ve forgotten the brand but it was really, really special.

Now we go to the other corner of the lounge. Funny I don’t remember mom being a plant person, but obviously I was wrong.

1962. My winter coat. I really wanted a purple winter coat. Mom made it. Again, we couldn’t afford to buy expensive. So she made me my purple winter coat. I can remember her not being happy with purple. I suspect she wanted a black or brown or some other more neutral colour. I remember her saying: “you know it has to last for years” and, “if you get tired of it, well, that’s too bad.” I don’t remember getting tired of it. A bit of a rebel even back then I guess.

Also starting to get the occasional colour photos from here. Still lots of black and white, but obviously colour film was becoming more and more accessible to the average person.

July 1962 My mother’s comment on the picture was “Sweet Sixteen” so I suspect it was my birthday and 4 of us went out somewhere. No idea where, but there are photos of two couples, all dressed up ready to go out somewhere.

Heels are getting higher, stilettos. Very pointy toes. This dress was a very soft flowing material. I still like the looks of it for some reason.

I might just finish off this bit with 1963. Skirts are starting to go straight and tight. Still very high heels and pointed toes.

I wasn’t into the really tight skirts. Possibly mom’s influence. I do know I never had any confidence in my figure. I don’t remember. And still below the knee. Nothing above the knee.

This next one is interesting. This is the first photo of me wearing slacks. I’ve got some of me in shorts, but none in slacks. Considering that I rarely wear dresses or skirts nowadays, maybe I got it all out of my system then.

This was Christmas 1962, so I would have been 17 and damn I was skinny!! Look at that flat bloody belly.

I don’t remember anything about these pants. I suspect they might have been ski pants, the the foot thingee on the bottom.

So there’s 17 year old Madeleine, posing for the camera. Looks like this was when I started being the clown in front of a camera instead of the “good little girl”.

That’s all for now folks. Have to find and scan a few more.

Madeleine

Sunday, 29 June 2008

My Fashion History 1

Kahless asked for some fashion pics of me through the years. That I have. My mother took lots of photos same as I do. I wonder who I got it from??

This one isn’t really about fashion. Just a bit of history. I was born in Montreal Canada in 1946. This is the first photo of me. I would have been about 5 or 6 months at this stage. I was born in summer and this is definitely a winter photo. Obviously no prams in those days, not for winter. So here is baby Madeleine, all rugged up, blanketed, and on a sleigh. After raising children in Australia, this seems pretty odd to me.

What the best dressed babies were wearing in Canada in 1947.

Just threw this one in for the cuteness factor. Year 1949. Age 3

Okay, fashion. The family photo. In all the photos I have, everyone is posed and well dressed. This is my father, myself (the little one) and two elder sisters. Girls wore little short skirts, shoes and socks. This was 1951, so I was 5, middle sister was 8, and big sister was 14. Father wearing a suit and tie of course. BTW I still have bony knees.

1953

Two little girls all dressed up for Easter. Told you I wore gloves and a hat. I was 7 here and my sister was 10. You could see she was already starting to outgrow me. Don’t I look like a pompous little git !!

Here are 2 photos from 1956. One in every day wear, and one all dressed up for Christmas. I would have been 10 here. These are also the first photos of me wearing glasses. Maybe that’s why I looked like such a git in the earlier one, I couldn’t see a damn thing !! I was probably wearing socks with shoes. Girls in those days did

1958 Age 12

Me and my best friend. Girls were allowed to hold hands in those days. You can see the girl is beginning to develop into a woman. Pony tails were in. Girls still wore socks and shoes. Definitely no high heeled shoes at age 12. Full skirts, with the belt (cinch belt it was called. Damn, where did that memory come from.).

I thought I was gorgeous !! My mother made my dress. She made all our clothes. We couldn’t afford to buy new ones and decent people did not buy second hand clothes.

In the next year, for some reason we went from wide skirts to tight skirts. Here’s two from 1959.

The one on the left is with my friend again at our graduation from primary school and the other is my nephew’s christening. I’m not sure why the total difference in the style. Maybe one was seen as more formal with the wide skirts, and the straight skirts less formal. Again, still wearing socks and flat shoes, even though by this stage I was 13 years old. My older sister is wearing flat shoes as well, but nylons (stockings to you younguns). Now stocking were held up with things. Garter belts, or girdles depending on your age. Garter belts were to hold up your stockings. Girdles were to make sure your tummy was tucked in and didn’t stick out and look fat and ugly as well as hold up your stockings.

At this point, I will stop. There will be a part 2 cause I’m rather enjoying this wander down memory lane. Also it’s getting late and really is time to go to bed.

Madeleine

Sunday, 29 June 2008

Fashion

I have written about fashion previously (Big Hair for example). Last night I went up to the shops to get some takeaway for my dinner. As I slopped out of the car, I suddenly had a thought about what my mother would have thought of my appearance. I was wearing my grotty, sloppy ugh boots, track pants, a loose top (with, yes, no bra underneath), and an even looser jacket over the top of it all.

I can remember having to wear gloves and a hat to go “into town”. I can remember arguments between my sister and my mother about girls wearing jeans “into town”.

Going into town was a major excitement. We didn’t do it often, and remember I am talking about the days before the big shopping centres where you can buy most of what you need from local shops. We didn’t have a car, so we had to take the bus. You had to make sure you were properly dressed. My mother, who rarely wore make-up, would put on her lipstick and her rouge (blush for the current generations). We would be inspected to make sure we came up to scratch and weren’t going to embarrass my mother with our appearance.

My mother would have been appalled at my appearance the other night. When I looked around, no one even noticed by dishevelled appearance. In fact, I noticed some girls in the shop with me who were wearing “fashionable” ugh boots. They looked very comfortable and nice. Comfortable was not in our vocabulary in those days. It wasn’t about something loose which felt good. It was about something that looked good. We didn’t wear something which we could loosen when we went out for dinner, we ate less so we didn’t fill our clothes too much. Now, when I know I’m going to pig out at a meal, I wear something that I know will stretch with my stomach !!

Language is another area that has really changed. I was told off, even as an adult, if I said “Shit”. You never heard it on television, when we finally got television, and certainly did not hear “fuck”, and the “C” word I didn’t even know. I remember my sister telling my father to “fuck off” when I was about 10 years old. I didn’t know what the word was or meant. I only knew by the reaction that she had done a very, very bad thing. I don’t remember what happened after that. I suspect I disappeared, as would all smaller, younger, smarter sisters when they knew that the shit was about to hit the fan.

Every so often when I’m watching television, getting ready to go out, or even just watching the way people dress at work, I contemplate the changes in fashion over the last 60 years.

Madeleine

Saturday, 28 June 2008

Booked

Well my first weekend in the UK is all organised. We’ve got the tickets booked for the Miniature show. I found out a bit more about it today and apparently only traders who are invited can trade at this show. They are artisans at the craft so all the stuff there will be original and hand crafted – nothing from China. And probably quite expensive. Damn !! However, England has shows every weekend somewhere so all I have to do is to find out where they are, and I’m off.

This is where we will be staying while we are in Birmingham. This is their web page.

Kewl weekend planned for my first weekend in the UK.

Madeleine

Sunday, 22 June 2008

Expectations

Kahless often triggers memories for me. We were chatting this morning (morning her time as well as mine), and she said: “Oz is a lovely country but it has a lot of creepy creatures!” and brought back another memory from when I first arrived in Australia.

I was 25 years old. I had lived in London and Heidelberg, returned to Canada, and then decided to move to Australia. In those days, I loved walking around barefoot. And one of the things I had decided was that because Australia was so warm, I could walk around barefoot all the time.

I arrived in March, nice and hot and took off my shoes, thinking that I could do this all the time. Great!! I went into town one day, checking things out. I was living in Brisbane at this stage in my life. I’m walking along the footpath, barefoot of course, and suddenly this ginormous cockroach runs across the path in front of me.

Now coming from Canada, the only cockroaches I had seen, or even heard about, were the ones that lived in dirty houses. And there I was, with all my dreams shattered !! Imagine stepping on one of these in your bare feet

There was no way I was going to walk around barefoot and risk stepping on one of THOSE !!

Madeleine

Saturday, 21 June 2008

Altercation

I went to bed quite early last night. Took ¼ antihistamine to make sure I slept properly. Been ruminating a bit at night lately. Must have been about midnight and I woke up to the Ally dawg racing through the house, almost barking (she rarely barks), and the most incredible altercation coming from the car port of the house next door. Now their carport is right next to my bedroom, so it sounded pretty loud. I couldn’t hear the words. Men’s voices. At least two, maybe more. Didn’t recognise any of them. One of the voices seemed to be in pain.

Now remember, I’m still groggy from an antihistamine. I’m just starting to think about ringing the police, and realise that they have just pulled up into the driveway. At this time of the morning, in my grotty red dressing gown, I’m not going out to see what’s happening. The Ally dawg is still racing around the house like she will defend us if something happens (yeah, right !!).

So I wander around the house. Peer out from behind the blinds. Imagination running wild.

Next thing I know, the cops are racing the wrong way down the street. When I look to see what’s happening, I can see lots of flashing lights down at the corner of my street – same place we had the fire !! But that’s all I can see.

At much the same time, from a different window, I see a man being escorted from the next door neighbour’s car port. Too dark to see much. Who was being escorted. Who was doing the escorting. Was my next door neighbour being arrested? Was it someone else? What’s happening in my nice safe neighbourhood??

I brave the world. Head out of the house and into my carport, still wearing my grotty red dressing gown and ugh boots, bed hair and all. Don’t want to get too close to what ever is happening, partly cause of my state of dress (or undress as the case may be), but also cause I am still incredibly groggy from the antihistamine.

It’s interesting peering out different windows and catching glimpses of a happening. I see totally different perspectives from different windows.

As I head out to the road, I realise that there are a few neighbours chatting away, a fire engine and quite a number of police cars. Do I join them and find out what’s happening? Do I go walkabout in my grotty red dressing gown? Do I get dressed and satisfy my curiosity? Or do I go back to bed? Things seem to have settled down. Everything seems to be quiet and under control.

Decisions, decisions! By this time, it’s after 1 a.m. on top of sleepy making drugs so I decide to go back to bed. Funny how this nice safe house suddenly doesn't feel quite so safe. I don’t normally feel anxious living alone. But last night, yup, there was a bit of “is it safe right now?”. Maybe I should have satisfied my curiosity. I didn’t. I watched a bit of tv and then the drugs did their work and I went back to sleep.

Woke up this morning quite late which was good. Still sort of wondering what all the altercation was about last night and spotted the guy from the house next door. Got dressed – no I wasn’t going out there in my grotty red dressing gown.

Apparently, the police were chasing a couple of kids on a bike (I think that’s what he said), and they crashed into a pole down the end of the street and then headed into the gardens. We think they went through his carport, hopped the fence, and then the girl climbed up on the roof of the house behind and threatened to jump. Apparently, the first thing these people knew, was lights shining up on their roof and police all over the place. I slept through all that. What I heard was another neighbour making a citizen’s arrest and the man in pain was the guy being held.

I should have gone out last night. Would have been really exciting.

And my nice safe house is back to being safe again.

Madeleine

Saturday, 21 June 2008

Mouse Murderer !!

According to my daughter, I was a mouse murderer. She was not happy with me. When I collected the morning’s loot, mouse traps with dead critters in them, she would stand there, with her hands on her hips, and stare at me accusingly. “Mom,” she would say: “You are a mouse murderer !!”

I guess she was about 10 years old. We had had mice in our old house and I suspect we brought them with us. Cute little things they were. I like mice. But these mice were beyond a joke. I had everything in my pantry in containers. If I didn’t, I would pick up a packet of something, and out would come the contents from a nice little mouse hole and even some extra little goodies that didn’t belong in the packet. I would open my cupboards and the smell of mouse pee would ooze from the cupboard.

The final straw was the day I moved a container, and suddenly there were about 6 baby mice scurrying around my pantry. I grabbed as many as I could, and gently put them down the back of the garden. I really don’t like killing the little suckers.

That day I went and bought some mouse traps. That’s when I became the mouse murderer. My daughter was incensed with me. How dare I kill these cute little creatures? I had taught her well. All creatures have the right to life. What I forgot to teach her was that they had the right to life – just not in my pantry.

I eventually had to buy some poison. Mouse traps just weren’t working. It seems like there is a mouse grapevine – don’t trust that food. That woman killed our brother. She’s a mouse murderer!!

Madeleine

Friday, 20 June 2008