It's Sunday, so I'm hoping all my readers are enjoying a lovely summer afternoon, doing the things that make this season so wonderful.  You know, hiking and swimming and picnicking...  not sitting in from of a computer, unless it is hotter than heck where you are, in which case a nice cool computer station sounds pretty good.

On Sunday morning I like to catch up with the reading I didn't have time for in the previous week.  This week has been especially bad, as I'm enrolled in two art classes, and for some unknown reason, decided to buy a new computer.  I'll spare you the details except that now that the files have all been transferred, and the bugs of connecting a 5 year old camera and an 8 year old scanner and problems with IE7, I'm happy to say that I'm all up and running and very happy with the new setup.  Of course, now I'm wondering why I just did not buckle down and ditch the worst-computer-I've-ever-used sooner.

Any way, surfing is a breeze here now, and so I've got lots to pass along to people who might be interested in fashion history and such...

First, a big thank you to Stacie at Photography Colleges.  She included The Vintage Traveler in her list of the 50 Best Blogs for the Avid Antiquer.  I'm in the clothing and jewelry category.

There will be an auction this Friday at Cornette de Saint Cyr  in  Paris.  There are some wonderful pieces being offered including couture from Jacques Fath, Schiaparelli, Dior and St. Laurent, and it also has a very early Chanel, from the early 1920s.  I know that it is possible that none of you will make it to Paris this week, but at least take a look at the online catalog.  Thanks to Jonathan at Kickshaw Productions for the link.

Fall will be here before you know it, so put this one on your calendar: Starting November 19, there will be an exhibition of the work of Cristóbal Balenciaga at the Queen Sofia Spanish Institute in NYC.  Thanks to Jody at Couture Allure for the alert.

There has been quite a bit of talk on the fashion history sites lately about exhibitions and the use of a real body to display historic and vintage clothing in a museum setting.  Start with the article on the FIDM blog, and then follow all the links to get several different perspectives.  I tried to post on the FIDM blog, but kept getting an error message, so I gave up.  My thoughts:

In a perfect world, of course the garments would be shown as they were intended to be used - on the human body.  But since that is not the case, then museums and exhibitors should take each case individually and base exhibition decisions on the nature of the clothing (I'm assuming this is how such decisions are already being made.)

I find that I prefer as few distractions as possible, and so I like the headless form.  

And I love exhibits where the garment is seen in the round, from all angles.  To me, lining mannequins in a lifeless row is what contributes to the static nature of many exhibits.  

Another thing that helps see the living nature of clothing is the inclusion of period film footage.  But that is not always available.

I don't know, but couldn't all the wonderful technological advances that the movies are using be employed?   I'm thinking of movies like Alice in Wonderland and Avatar, where the appearance of the actors was altered digitally.  Could the clothing not be digitalized in the same way? 

Finally, here's the unintentionally hilarious POV from the July issue of Vogue. 

Okay, now back to summer:

This sweet set originally belonged to the mother of dh's cousin's husband's father (follow me?)  She received it as a gift from her son in 1929, and for some reason, never used, or even opened any of the contents.  That son is now 91 years old, and his son was looking for good homes for some of the old things in the house.  The toiletries set brought me to mind, as he knew about my collection of old clothes and such.

So, don't be shy; let your friends and relatives know about your obsession with vintage whatevers.  You just never know what is hiding in those closets and attics.

Here are closeups of the talc tin and the powder box.  I know the set was bought in 1929, and it had to have been made after 1926, as the powder is Coty's Air Spun, which was introduced that year.  I say this because this was bought in a small city drug store, and had possibly been on the shelves a while.  All the 1929  ads I could find for Coty's  Paris line had a different, less graphic, packaging.

You'l find this hard to believe, but I didn't do a lot of shopping on this trip.  There were just too many other interesting things to do.  But I do have a few words about Savannah retail.

The main traditional shopping street, Broughton Street, suffered the fate of many US shopping districts after the rise of the shopping mall.  For years, there were very few downtown stores.  But that has all changed and downtown has made a comeback.  Many of the stores are chains - Gap, Banana Republic, Starbucks - but most are local like The Paris Market. 

This is the kind of store you wander into and see a hundred things you think you *must* have.  Very pretty, very eclectic, very Parisian.

It's a combination of new and old.  Downstairs there is a whole section of vintage photos.  I didn't take the time to go through these baskets of $1 snapshots, but now I'm wishing I'd have taken a one hour rest break and plowed through them.  I'd have needed more like 3 or 4 hours, in reality though.

There is one antiques mall in downtown Savannah, and I did wander through it.  Other downtown stores I loved were Terra Cotta, which said vintage on the door, but I didn't see any in the store.  No matter, because the things they have are darling, and there's more than just clothing.  Again, a nice eclectic mix of Stuff.  And Nourish has wonderful soaps, candles and bath scrubs, made in Savannah.

But the most fun about shopping in Savannah is that you can be wandering through a residential area, and up pops a nice little paper goods shop, or a gourmet convenience store or a store devoted to Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.  It's the randomness and serendipity of it all that makes it so much fun!

I mentioned in my last post that before I visit a place I always check my copy of Clothing and Textile Collections in the United States, to see if any of the city's museums and historic sites have clothing collections.  While this book does not have every single collection in the US included, it is invaluable to the traveler and fashion history lover.

I'm back from my trip to Savannah, GA, and I had just a super time.  It was the best of two worlds actually: during the daytime my friend was in meetings so I got to spend them as I pleased, but at night I had a friend to go out with.  And even though it was HOT, I still covered a lot of ground and saw many things I missed on my last trip.

Before I travel, I always check any local museums' websites to see if there are any fashion exhibits.  I also check my trusty Clothing and Textile Collections in the United States, to see if any of the city's museums and historic sites have clothing collections.    But I'd have missed one had it not been for a short feature in a local Savannah magazine.

The exhibit is Diane von Furstenberg: Journey of a Dress, and it is at the Gutstein Gallery of SCAD - Savannah College of Art and Design.   I'll know next time to check SCAD's website, as they have not only student work in their galleries, but also feature exhibits that relate to their different departments, and on which the students help.

But this is no student project.  The curator of the exhibit is Andre Leon Talley, and DVF herself played a large role.  Most of the items shown are from her archives, or from her own closet.  And she sent an assistant down to Savannah to help with the installation.

It's interesting how they juxtaposed vintage with modern garments.  In the above grouping, as in all the groupings, some of the dresses are vintage and some are not. It takes a very good eye to tell the difference in some cases.

The garments above are from Diane's own closet.

Evening looks, including that Warhol era jumpsuit!

There was also a large selection of articles from all stages of Diane's career, and examples of her ad campaigns.  I always loved this one from her 1997 wrap dress come back, in which the model says the dress got her boyfriend's attention because it reminded him of his mother!

Such a well rounded display!  Sometimes exhibits that feature the career of just one person have gaps, and the more current looks are more heavily represented.  Not here.  One gets an excellent feel for the work DVF has done starting with that fabulous 1973 wrap dress, and up to the present day.  In fact, several of the garments shown can still be purchased in stores.

Now through July 3, 2010.

Close-up of a sequined and feathered evening slip dress

Super vintage wrap dress

Very unexpectedly, a friend called up and asked if I'd go to Savannah with her for the week. Despite the record heat, my reply was "I'm always ready for a roadtrip!" So I'm off tomorrow, cool dresses packed, sandals packed, shady hats packed...  She'll be in meetings, but I'll be in search of Savannah history.

So, I'll not be here, but I may be tweeting. If you don't follow me on Twitter, you might check out my tweets as they are very similar to what you get here - fashion history and vintage style, fashion events and issues.

For my latest project I used this early 1960s vintage pattern, Simplicity 3932, and modern fabric.  Although this pattern is for a culotte dress, I just not fond of full-blown culottes so I amended the pattern to make a skirt with a front and back pleat.  I also shortened the skirt, as I'm short.  I used three buttons instead of two.  The back skirt had darts, but I'm lazy and made gathers instead.  Other than those few changes, the dress I made is pretty much what you see in view 3.

I've found that I'm really attracted to patterns from the early 60s.  They fit my body type and I like the clean look of most of them.  I do have a theory that women tend to look back fondly at the "big girl clothes" they missed out on.  I was 8 years old in 1963, so I went straight from crinolines and full skirts to the mini.  So I never had the chance to wear the pretty looks of 1960-1966... until now.

The fabric is a lineny weave rayon with a vine and leaf design embroidered on it.  I got the fabric last fall at Mary Jo's Cloth Store in Gastonia, NC when my sister-in-law and I spent a full day there.  Seriously.  And we could have stayed longer!  I've been reading lots of sewing blogs lately, and one common complaint is the lack of great fabric stores in many places.  That's a real shame.  I can remember where there were many privately owned fabric stores in my area, but that was when we has a thriving textile industry and a ready supply of high quality but inexpensive sewing fabrics.  Now, Mary Jo's is one of the last.

At any rate, because of the weave, the fabric was quite ravely, so I cut the straight edges on the grain right up to the selvedge, and the rest of the seams are pinked.  I did encase the waist seam in bias binding for added security against raveling.

This super 1960s beach cover-up is a recent etsy find.  Actually, I didn't find it, Kim at The Girl Can't Help It did, and I couldn't get to etsy fast enough, hoping to find it still for sale.  It was and I made those magic 5 clicks that made this great print dress mine!

Seriously, reading blogs is like having personal shoppers.  Find a few that share your sense of style and stalk their finds.  And many bloggers who are also sellers use their journals to give shop previews.  There's nothing like getting a head start when it comes to finding the good stuff.

And this is an example of the good stuff, not because it is valuable, or not because it was an expensive item when it was new.  No, this was a cheap item, and I'd guess the original owner paid less than $4 for it new.  It's cheaply made, and the fabric is thin.  No, the value is purely in the print itself, with the colorful umbrellas and the legs and the lifeguard focal point.  (never mind that the print is a tad sexist...)  It says a lot about the time in which it was made, so reminiscent of that Connie Francis movie, Where the Boys Are, except this has to be Where the Boy Is.

I get a lot of emails from readers and one of the most asked questions is "Where did you find that?"  I really don't have a problem telling people where I find things, because I'm pretty much just buying for myself, and not for resale.  But it really surprises me how often potential buyers email sellers and ask that same question.  For some reason knowing the place where a seller obtained an object  seems to be important to some buyers.

Understandably, most vintage clothing (and antique and collectible) sellers do not want to tell a potential buyer where an object originated.  Sellers have to protect their sources, as there is more and more competition for quality items.  But there is also a fear that a buyer might think some sources are less acceptable, that they somehow cheapen the image of the item. 

The simple truth is the vast majority of vintage clothes come from someone's closet.  From there, a garment may end up anywhere from a thrift store to an up-scale vintage boutique.  At any rate, the bottom line is that vintage clothes are used objects that come from people's homes.  If you look at it that way, it should not matter at all where the seller obtained an object for sale.

As an example, here is a late 1910s or early 1920s slip or underdress.  I recently bought this in a thrift store, and I paid $3 for it.  It's in perfect condition, and while it it not an overly valuable piece, it is quite nice with the scalloped edges and picot stitching.  $3 was a real bargain.  I might have bought a similar item on ebay for $25, or in a nice vintage clothing store or website for $45.  So is my slip any less desirable because I had the good fortune of finding it at a thrift store? 

I tend to think that a potential buyer who asks the "Where did you get that?" question is not so concerned that an item bought at a thrift store is any less desirable, it's just that they are more likely overly concerned with the seller's profit margin.  And that brings up a whole other set of concerns about pricing , service, and seller knowledge.  Stay tuned!

As I said a few posts ago, there is so much Vera material that a collector can be very picky.  I suppose I love these two so much because they run along the same theme as the linens I collect.  It must be the food...

I've seen both of these in different colorways, the sundae print is in the new Vera book in shades of orange, and the picnic one is currently for sale at etsy, in blue and pink.  (It's at a good price, too.)

I'm currently looking for some of the village scenes Vera painted, and one of the scarves she designed as a tribute to her friend, Alexander Calder.  If you find a Vera scarf with a Calder-looking mobile as the print, that's it!

I'm also beginning a photo collection of the signatures so I can update the Vera page at fuzzylizzie.com.  If you were to line up a series of signatures starting with her earliest scarves and working toward the 1990s, you would see how the signature got larger and bolder as Vera's fame spread.  Here are the signatures from these two scarves: 

1960s, probably around 1968 as the signature began to increase in size

This one dates to the late 1950s.  Earlier scarves have a lower case v, later ones have the ©

This caught my eye yesterday as I walked through a local antique store.  I was some distance away, and at first I couldn't tell exactly what the product was, but a closer look revealed that it was bug spray:

Surprising to find this gardener dressed as she's about to go on a picnic!  I would have expected a girl in overalls, or at least a housedress with an apron.  Maybe they were trying to imply how easy the product was to use.  "Go ahead and get dressed for your outing, and spray the bugs before your date arrives!"

So now I'm wondering if these two young women sprayed their bugs before posing in their positive/negitive ensembles!

Speaking of overalls, there is a great post at Unsung Sewing Patterns showing a 1940s sewing pattern for women's overalls.

My latest Vera purchase, in the original box, no less!  Do they look familiar?  If so, you may have seen the same napkins here, but in a red and green colorway.

I was really happy to spot these on eBay, mainly because they go so well with the Cocktail Time plates:

But I'm not going to spend this entire post bragging about my new Vera napkins.  I want to talk a little about how products were developed at Vera.  I originally got this information from Vera's nephew, Fred Salaff, and it is discussed in the new book on Vera, Vera, the Art and Life of an Icon.

All the designs at Vera were painted by Vera herself.  They all started out as square paintings, as if she were designing scarves.  For each collection, all the paintings were hung and then the division heads and designers would choose which designs they wanted to use.  Coordinating pieces, like my napkins and plates, were not deliberately done; each department got to choose which designs it wanted to use.  As a result, sometimes a popular motif was made into a scarf and a napkin.  There might also be an apron that would coordinate.

So that explains why some designs, like strawberries or pink roses in a vase, or a particular butterfly design might be seen in several different products.  After each division made their choices, it was up to them to translate the original design into their product.   They also worked on different colorways, as in the case of my cocktail napkins.

The way the company operated tends to help the modern Vera collector.  There is so much material, and so many choices that the collector can be very specialized and still find plenty of things that make the heart sing!  I've obviously fond of the citrusy prints and colors, and it all does not have to match to make me happy.  The colors seem to draw it all together into a cohesive unit.

Here's a nifty little item from the 1930s, the Slipperette.  Basicly, they are just a rib knitted envelope with crochet edging.  But the wool is very stretchy, and when the foot is inserted, the rectangle conforms and makes a slipper!

As you can see from the packaging, these were for a man, but I'm betting there were slipperettes for women as well.  And even though these are labeled a size large, they fit smaller feet as well. 

I can't imagine a more convenient travel slipper.  They fold flat and take up practically no space at all.  I posted the photos on flickr, and my friend Joules suggested that they were perfect for train travel.  I agree!  Picture the 1930s traveler pulling her little slipperettes out of her Pullman case...

These were a gift from my new friend Mandy who has an incredible collection of Victorian and Edwardian clothing that will soon be up for sale.  Stay tuned!

 This was traveling in style! This ad for Holiday Tandem Trailers was in a 1948 Holiday magazine. They were meant for traveling, but the postwar housing shortage was so acute that many people ended up living in them. 

This was famously depicted in the Lucille Ball/ Desi Arnez film, The Long. Long Trailer.  The year was 1953, and I Love Lucy was already airing on television.  The studio, MGM, was a bit luke-warm about the project because they feared that people would not pay to see what they could stay home and watch on TV.  Arnez was so sure of the movie's appeal that he bet $25,000 that that the movie would be the highest grossing comedy up to that date.  He won his bet!