Alfred Cheney Johnston’s portriaits of beauties of the early 20th century are nothing short of magic. In 1917 Johnston was hired to be the photographer for the Ziegfeld Follies and remained until the Depression struck. Meanwhile, Johnston also contracted small side jobs, photographing portraits for aspiring actresses and other ladies of society. Below are some his photographs from that era.
Johnston’s photography is not all this tame, though… his behind the scenes photo shoots of Ziegfeld’s Vaudevillesque show girls went undiscovered until his death in 1971. The full-frontal but mesmerizingly artistic portraiture would have been too risque for public appreciation at that time, so the suspicion is that these nude prints were for his own private collection. Quel Scandale!
I’m (seemingly) back from the almost 9 month respite I’ve taken from serious blogging. The time has flown by with the help of nail-biting-rage-inciting stress, countless hour-long work days, juggling job titles and the like. Hostility towards summertime was punctuated with weekends on Cape Cod or in Newport, a saving grace that at times turned ugly by residual stress creeping it’s way into play time. After enduring the workforce for three years I’ve became reacquainted with back to school sensibility, only this time I’ve been stocking up on fabric and french curves, textile paint and sketchbooks. I’ve been living two nights in Boston; night class denotes spending friendless days in small cafe’s and eating Sun Chips for dinner. Although my 9-5 workload has nearly doubled, I hope to share less abbreviated accounts of what I am learning as well as to resume regularity to my postings with you in the near future. Semester 2 starts in 2 days and counting, so I’m back to beating the fashion “books” (i.e. style.com runway reports). I normally can do nothing but pine for Dior, but I’m sadly disappointed today by the Spring 2013 Couture line. I’m mad about the pre-fall rtw that debuted on 1.14 and had such high hopes for Couture. I know this may seem unsavory of me but dare I say I miss the better-to-be-seen-and-not-heard John Galliano? Bastard. Perhaps the only thing suited to please my ultra femmy-femme palet is watch last night’s ep of Downtown Abbey 48 times.
See you soon, whoever still reads this sh*t
I must interrupt my summer-long hiatus from posting to bring you this important message. As if the sky opened up and God came down and kissed me on the lips, so I felt when happening upon this spread flipping through the pages of Elle in the line at the grocery store. Looking around for someone to share in my complete surprise and excitement, hoping by happenstance to see my college roommate (who shared in the same obsession as I,) or my cousin (who, like I, strives to achieve a certain level of Audrey Horne-ness on a daily basis,) I was quickly disappointed to find myself surrounded by old new york tourists who had sent the only clerk in the store to fetch 17 cases of iced tea Snapple from an undisclosed location. Behind me, an irresponsible mother who was, by my standard, attempting to rid the store of any item containing high levels of saturated fat by feeding them to her husband and children. Mommy had bought out BOTH Entiments & Little Debby departments of the store.
No one was interested in what magic lie in the pages of July’s Elle magazine, clutched in my little mitts. The Black Lodge- the mystical place of Agent Dale Coopers dreams, set the backdrop for Prada, Celine, Balenciaga, Giorgio Armani, Adrienne Landau and so on. I plopped the Elle into my shopping basket, checked out, ran home, pulled out my Definitive Gold Edition Twin Peaks Box set, and for about 3 hours was dead to the world.
…at the Brimfield antique show is an event I’ve been dreaming about for years now. It’s only a little over an hour away from where I live, so there’s really no excuse for why I’ve not been before. I’ve had much time to think about the things I will acquire at what has become largest & best antique/thrift show in the country. I have, furthermore, prepared a checklist for my maiden voyage on Thursday which is listed below:
Piles of antique lace
Perfume Atomizer, one or two or ten
bonnie and clyde, cary grant, Cops and robbers, Design, Fashion, Fashion design, Fashion Inspiration, Fashion Photography, faye dunaway, Grace Kelly, Jean Seberg, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Movies, Old Movies, police and thieves, The Clash, Vintage, Vintage Fashion, warren beatty
Creepy fashion, Design, Fashion, Fashion design, Fashion Inspiration, Fashion Photography, From the Yellow Wallpaper, Hidden light source, Inspiration, lace, Martina Hoogland Ivanow, photography, psychadelic, trippy, Vintage Fashion
How deliciously creepy is this collection of photographs by Martina Hoogland Ivanow?! I am obsessed with her use of light, shadows & colors. It’s is also much more interesting if you know the inspiration behind the AnOther Magazine spread titled “From the Yellow Wallpaper”. If you attended an all girls school, like I so foolishly did for my first year of college, you’ve read the short story by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. If not, you should know that it’s a phenom short story which has been critically interpreted as an early feminist text, revealing the harsh way women were medically treated by during times of psychological and emotional distress. The story is about a woman confined to a room all summer by her husband, prohibited from doing anything beyond sitting and staring at the walls, due to her affliction with depression. Short story shorter: she goes from bad to worse and begins seeing women walking around behind the putrid yellow wallpaper, finally begins believing that she herself is one of these women behind the wallpaper. In the end she refuses to leave the confines of the room, and this new world that she belongs to. The story ends abruptly with out any consolation or confirmation that she will leave and get better. I wish psychosis and impending doom could always look this elegant.