As a young woman who has atypically looked forward to turning shocking silver (I’ve even promised myself to grow my pixie haircut at that time to accentuate it), I’ve read with some curiosity but ultimate skepticism, the rash of articles and blog posts about the supposed trend of women embracing grey hair. The most recent that I read, in UK Telegraph, was one of the more thoughtful ones; it concentrated on 46-year-old ’90s supermodel Kristin McMenamy’s latest photo shoot for Dazed and Confused magazine. Having always been a rather startling-looking woman with Tilda Swinton-like pallor and a broad sneer of a mouth, the shock of flowing, natural grey tresses doesn’t seem so out of place on McMenamy. “You can get older and still be rock’n'roll,” she told the magazine. “I thought all that grey hair would make a beautiful picture.” Below are two photos (neither from the D&C shoot) that exemplify how grey can be romantic…

in Vogue, August 2010

sleek…

in Calvin Klein RTW F2010

or totally fucking fierce:

on the Givenchy runway, S2008

This is not the first time grey hair has been in style; compared to the 18th century, this current fad is a drop in the pan. Men and women alike oiled and powdered their hair shades of grey and white starting in the mid-1700s. Oil was necessary to make the powder stick, and yes, oil and powder was unavoidably shed with movement; you can see Charles-Alexandre de Calonne, below, is leaking powder on his shoulder, like dandruff, where his ponytail rubs:

detail of Charles-Alexandre de Calonne by Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun, 1784

Below Madame Grand (later Madame Talleyrand-Périgord, Princesse de Bénévent) models the bouffant du jour in the late 18th century:

Madame Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, later Princesse de Bénévent, by Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun, 1783

Mature as her dusty locks make her to our 21st century eyes, this is only a 22 year-old woman; you can see her cheeks are still youthfully plump and rosy (though blush undoubtedly assisted). Here is the same woman — approximately 25 years later:

detail of Madame Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, later Princesse de Bénévent by François Gérard, c. 1808

In addition to the change of hair color and style, it is obvious by this comparison that there was a radical change of silhouette in the costume of the mid-late-18th century and that of the early 19th century. As with the turn of the 20th century, a great deal of bulk and fussiness was discarded in favor of a sleeker and ultimately more youthful, modern look in hair and costume. I don’t think it’s the powdered grey hair alone that ages our subject, but rather the compilation of big, fussy, surreal hair with busy bows and lace and volume in the dress and accessories. In my humble opinion, the neo-Classical look of the early 19th century just feels more modern. But I digress.

Marie Antoinette (1755 – 1793) was both early champion and ultimate victim of powdered coiffures. The Flour War of 1775, caused by the de-regulation of wheat prices by the government, lead to hoarding, gouging, and the inability of lower classes to afford simple bread, and was the ominous precursor to the crescendo of the French Revolution. Wig powder, a product of finely ground starch (a.k.a. flour), was used liberally by the naive queen in her legendary towering bouffants, casting her and her fashion statements in a distinctly unflattering, frivolous light.  French historian Caroline Weber observed,

“…although historians have established that Marie Antoinette never uttered the legendary remark “Let them eat cake,” it is not implausible that the lasting association between her callousness and baked edibles in fact originated with her habit of parading her powdered, wedding-cake hairstyles before a bread-starved nation.”

Here is Marie Antoinette in the very year of the Flour War, seemingly flaunting her willful ignorance of the economic struggles of her country, and all to achieve that trendy grey hair:

Marie Antoinette by Jacques-Fabien Gautier D'Agoty, 1775

With no small irony, according to legend, Marie Antoinette’s hair turned grey with stress and fear the night before her execution; grey hair as fashion statement had clearly run its course as it became associated with the demonized, decapitated monarch. Two years later the English government levied a tax on hair powder, the last coffin nail of that grey-haired trend… until today?

Granite hair was on the 2010 runways shows of playful Giles Deacon and goth Gareth Pugh, and the Telegraph article quoted high end hairdressers claiming to have more young clients who want grey, like Peaches Geldof, Kelly Osbourne, Kate Moss and Victoria Beckham. This kind of minimal evidence has prompted sites like trendhunter.com to prematurely declare “For decades men and women have been trying to mask signs of aging, but a new wave fashionable gray hair is reflecting a shifting attitude regarding the physical effects of getting older.” A more tempered NYTimes article quoted colorist Sharon Dorram, “who said that among her downtown New York patrons, it is mostly younger women, renegade types, who request gray. Not lost on Ms. Dorram is the irony that their older, more conventional counterparts spent $1.3 billion to cover their grays last year, according to Nielsen.”

I don’t think gunmetal tresses were a sign of the fetishization, or even simple respect, of mature women in the 18th century, and I don’t think that’s the case in 2010 either. It’s an unusual, edgy color precisely because so many women with natural grey hair darken it, so it really pops when a woman such as Kristin McMenamy rocks it. I think that even if more grey hair dye is being sold, it is unfortunately not a sign that older women — specifically, naturally mature women — are all of a sudden welcomed back into the fold for the general, fashionable, youth-obsessed public. Pixie Geldof, for example, I don’t think could be said to be furthering the cause of women aging gracefully, though her hair is certainly grey:

Pixie Geldof

Along a similar line, premature articles claiming the emergence of older models on runways and magazine spreads as being indicative of older women being accepted as beautiful and sexual are, I think, overlooking that those older models might be over-the-hill 30+, but they are recognizable and have proven themselves exceptionally good at selling products — hence their previous successes. In economically strapped times I think we all return to the familiar, tried-and-true methods of existence, and I believe designers are returning to supermodels of yesteryear because they have the most experience and accomplishments, and fame/notoriety that can only come with age — also, they are still smokin’ hot. Kate Moss is still landing covers at age 36 (which is, by the way, close to the height of a woman’s biological peak of personal sexuality), and 37 year-old Heidi Klum is even modeling in Victoria Secret lingerie shows (after having popped out 4 children). This is evidence that magazines and designers don’t want to take as many risks these days, when merchandise is harder to move off shelves. They know Moss and Klum, they know their scopes, their talent, and the sales they still consistently generate. After all, you don’t hear about a surge of random, unknown older women taking up the runways — that would demonstrate real progress in my eyes.

A TIME article from a few years ago astutely pointed out the frustrating correlation between the success of the feminism movement and women’s increased use of hair dye. The very same Baby Boomers who fought to enter the workplace are the same who feel compelled to color their hair, to appear more youthful, energetic, or conservative (grey-haired women can appear alternative or hippy-like, often to their detriment in the workplace). The TIME article quotes some shocking statistics about female politicians, for whom it could be argued the physical manifestation of age and experience should be an asset:

“…of the 16 female U.S. Senators — the highest number ever — who range in age from 46 to 74, not a single one has visible gray hair. Of the 70 female members of the House, only seven have gray hair. Political professionals say that the double standard is a great unspoken inequity but that candidates and officeholders don’t dare publicly discuss it for fear of seeming trivial. In an interview before her death last year, Ann Richards, the famously white-haired former Governor of Texas, told me, ‘You can’t appear to be too flashy because it will send the wrong message, but at the same time, you need to appear energetic. The issue is much more significant for women because the hurdle is higher in our society. We’re not sure what we want our [female] elected officials to be — mother, mistress or caretaker.’”

female US senators, 2007 -- not a grey hair in the joint

As evidenced by the world’s obsession with Michelle Obama’s style, politicians’ wives face intense scrutiny too, and most of them color their hair. I wonder if Nancy Reagan would have received the same childish sniggering that Barbara Bush endured for supposedly looking so much older than her hubby, if she had not concealed her own grey hair with that frosted brown. It might come as a surprise to learn Barbara and Nancy were the same age — 64 — when their respective husbands became the President, and though I admit that from a distance Babs looks older, I frankly like the luminescent white she has going on, and I don’t think it diminishes her stature or poise:

Ronald and Nancy Reagan, inauguration, 1985

George and Barbara Bush, inauguration, 1989

Lord knows I’m not against experimentation with appearance. But I sincerely hope women start challenging the gender bias we perpetuate against ourselves and fellow women by playing into the same limiting roles we’ve fought so hard to break out of. Going grey naturally may seem like a small step for Feminism (and the closely linked Ageism), but having grown up in Cambridge, MA, where there are many vibrant, intelligent, artistic women who let their grey show, it becomes suspicious and puzzling that other cities that are diverse in many ways, including appearance, are not like that. Let this so-called trend of grey hair chic be inspiration for actual grey-haired women to embrace their ages, their accomplishments, their strengths, and know they can do so stylishly.

May I suggest some role models?

Susan Songtag, writer

Jamie Lee Curtis, actress

Gloria Steinem, activist writer

Helen Mirren, actress

Annie Leibovitz, photographer

Diane Keaton, actress

Emmylou Harris, singer

Judi Dench

Further Reading:

• Queen of Fashion: What Marie Antoinette Wore to the Revolution, by Caroline Weber

tuxedoed Ceara Sturgis in her (banned) class photo

After reading the New York Times article “Can a Boy Wear a Skirt to School?,” exasperation and a wee bit of fury rumbled in my belly. As presented by Jan Hoffman, increasing numbers of school children are pushing the boundaries of so-called acceptable attire by cross dressing– a term used quite loosely here. “Cross dressing” could mean a boy wearing a bit of eyeliner or all-out lip gloss, dress and purse, or a girl in a tuxedo. Immediately obvious is a discrepancy between acceptable cross dressing for girls and for boys: girls may wear pants and button-down jackets or cut their hair short without having a finger pointed at them, but boys in a blouse are unacceptable.

Comprehensive dress rules are typically segmented by gender, revealing in and of itself. Girls may not wear midriff-baring blouses, stiletto heels, or miniskirts; boys may not wear sagging pants, tank tops, or hair longer than their shoulders. Dress codes in the office are an attempt to present a uniform level of professionalism, simultaneously curtailing skimpy clothes (generally targeted at women) that are deemed potentially distracting to coworkers and clients. In educational environments, they are supposed to improve academic and social behavior. Dress codes in schools have an additional moral argument: that of almighty child safety.

Hoffman sensationally mentions Lawrence King “who occasionally wore high-heeled boots and makeup” and who was murdered by one of his 8th grade classmates. Proponents of gender-specific dress codes claim they want to protect students who might attract assaults based on their garments, insinuating that the clothes themselves provoke violence, without actually addressing the root of the hate crimes and the subsequent pressure to outlaw gender bending in school dress codes. If a child or teenager has the desire to cross-dress in whatever subtle or loud form, I think that should be applauded. Thinking outside gender boxes and expressing creativity and originality should be integrated in every school curriculum– and dress is a wonderful, harmless playground in which to experiment with these concepts.

Though the article does not once mention homophobia, that is clearly at the crux of the anxiety surrounding cross dressing. It was instead pointed out that many so-called cross dressers are emo or punk kids whose boys may wear eyeliner and lipstick but who are staunchly straight, pointing to pictures of themselves with their girlfriends. While I agree that wearing makeup does not a fag make, the latent and pervasive fear of gays is undoubtedly the reason for people’s reluctance to accept even small gestures of cross dressing without trying to stamp it out under the guise of “safety” and learning without “distractions.” These anti-cross dressing codes are acts of willful, repressive ignorance. Hoffman mentions those who believe “high school should not be a public stage to work out private identity issues. School, they say, is a rigorous academic and social training ground for the world of adults and employment.” If unusual or gender bending clothes cause a dreaded disruption in class, banning the clothes is still not going to address the core problem: that gayness is considered an undesirable aberration, and adopting aspects of the opposite sex is interpreted (or misinterpreted) as a flaunting of gayness, which is inherently distracting. The feared (and yet misleading) link between gender ambiguity, cross dressing, and homosexuality should be confronted and addressed intellectually, ideally in an open health and sexuality class (and yes, I am woefully aware of the non-existent or inadequate health classes in schools).

Sexual self-discovery is an important and unavoidable part of puberty, and I can think of no redeeming argument to suppress this exploration– most especially in that playground of self adornment. The world is full of different people who dress is vastly different ways based on age, culture, personal taste, gender, sexuality, and more. By prohibiting creative or atypical dress in classrooms, are we teaching students that there is an inherent inferiority or unnaturalness in those who dress outside the “normal” dress codes they’ve been exposed to? If a youth in his awkward teenage years has the self possession to cross dress — in whatever form that takes — only hateful detractors should be afraid of reprimands. Think of the hypocritical disgust the Western world directs at the Muslim world for enforcing total body concealment and banning pants for women, circa 2009…. Uncomfortably similar, non?

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In the wake of Michael Jackson’s recent sudden death, there has been a predictable spike in pictures, radio and videos runs, articles and blog posts about the star. We often have the tendency to think of style icons as Athena: “born,” emerging from Zeus’s head swathed in what was to be her trademark ensemble of full armor. This theory has been confirmed by the fact that most fashion discussion I’ve found has focused on Jackson’s “iconic style” with parades of comparative photos of current celebrities wearing military-style coats, red leather jackets, mono-gloves, aviator shades, etc. — all of which is appropriate testament to his talent and breadth of influence — and yet there has been very little discussion on what influenced the man himself. At the risk of stating the obvious, none of us live in vacuums — not even the rich and famous — and as is my wont, I’m far more interested in the idol’s own historical sartorial references, which he so successfully appropriated and interpreted that most people see him as a completely original trend setter.

CLASSIC MOVIES & MUSICALS
Though I favor his work in the Jackson 5 (I know there are many dissenters, but I do so love Motown!), considering his youth and the parental/managerial influence present during those early years, I will concentrate mainly on his mid-to-late career, after he had emerged as a solo artist. I’ll start then with his movie debut at age 20 as the Scarecrow alongside Diana Ross’s Dorothy in The Wiz (1978), remake of the classic The Wizard of Oz (1939), which introduced him to the wonderful world of classic movies. I’m not the first to see how those suave, glittery MGM musicals manifested themselves both in Jackson’s dancing and wardrobe.

Jackson regularly sported white suits (see Thriller album cover for a casual, pared down version) with matching fedoras bearing uncanny resemblance to the ensemble Fred Astaire wears with Cyd Charisse in The Band Wagon (1953). For those unfamiliar with that mediocre musical (for which I have an inexplicable tenderness), “The Girl Hunt Ballet” dance number is a musical-within-a-musical where Astaire and Charisse enact a ’40s film noir-style murder mystery:

Here’s Michael’s version from the “Smooth Criminal” video:

Michael Jackson in Smooth Criminal, wearing white suit with spats and fedora. And isn't the 45 degree lean dance move a more graceful version of the Tin Man's move from the original Wizard of Oz?

Even the alternate, more informal versions of Jackson’s look consisting of black slacks, white tank top, unbuttoned white undershirt and fedora may very well have been a deconstructed vestmental homage to Astaire, one of the most formal of the musical men in film. (I admit I may be reading just a wee bit too much into this one, but isn’t the game fun?)

Michael Jackson in white undershirt and fedora

Michael in HIStory tour (1997) white suit:

And West Side Story (1961) undoubtedly influenced both the “Beat It” (1983) and “Bad” (1987) videos, down to the line dance choreography style. Jackson’s videos have only slightly less dubiously threatening song-and-dance gang confrontations. “Bad” even mimics the set of West Side Story’s “Cool” number, which also occurs in a garage, moments after the Jets’ gang leader (Riff) is killed by the rival gang in a scuffle:

“Bad” video:

“Beat It” video:

Michael’s signature ankle-bearing pants paired with penny loafers and white socks highlighted his dance moves, it’s true. But they also bear telling resemblance to another famous song-and-dance movie star, Gene Kelly:

Gene Kelly in loafers and rolled pants

Jackson’s take:

Though not a movie star, the undeniable live concert showman James Brown was explicitly credited by Michael as being hugely influential. They share a talent for energetic performances, impressive tonal ranges (not many can hit those upper registers like these two!), and love of shiny jackets and straightened hairstyles.

Jackson and Brown performing at the 2003 BET Awards in Los Angeles:

There was also a healthy dose of Elvis inspiration evident in Jackson, what with his penchant for gold lame and gyrating crotch moves. In an interesting (some might say disturbing) twist, Jackson actually married Presley’s daughter Lisa Marie, thus tapping into his idol’s bloodline while possibly attempting to silence gay / sexual deviant rumors (the molestation trial was a mere year before the short-lived marriage).

THE DARK MISFIT
Thus far I’ve concentrated on Michael’s fondness for classic cinema and musicals, but there were most definitely darker influences as well. His leather-and-buckle style emerged perhaps as Michael struggled with his life of imposed near-solitude and the battle for privacy he fought from the media and crazed fans. He seemed to identify with, and then project, a kind of misunderstood misfit persona, even while continuing grueling tours and recording sessions. April’s auction of Jackson’s ephemera included many of his home furnishings, sculptures, children’s race cars, and many many spangly clothes, but what caught my special notice were the Edward Scissorhands (1990) prop hands.

Johnny Depp as Edward Scissorhands (1990)

It turns out that Jackson had aggressively lobbied for title part in Tim Burton’s movie, and I’ve since realized this interest makes perfect sense. He was dressing like Edward Scissorhands before the movie was even made, with his wan skin tone, limp black hair, and ladders of leather straps and buckles. His penchant for these leather buckles was perhaps indicative of deeper, darker insecurities; desire for restraint in others and to be restrained oneself. They call to mind mental patients’ restraints and also S&M gear, as was fitting for a man whose mental stability and sexuality were examined and questioned throughout his career.

Jackson’s interpretations:
In gold lame with leather buckles catcher kneepads in Dangerous tour (1992-93):

Michael Jackson touring Bad in Maryland 1988 (before E.S., the year he moves into Neverland Ranch):

MILITARY / ROYALTY
The other side of the shy, misunderstood outsider was Jackson’s royal persona. His astounding collection of military jackets are protective in their stiffness, and project masculine virility and power with their broad shoulders (which temporarily mask Jackson’s narrow frame), and suggestion of violent battle. They are also commonly worn by male monarchs (who typically rely on medals rather than Jackson’s rhinestones for bling). Jackson was dubbed the “King of Pop” because of his extraordinary talent, but he shared other, less desirable similarities with kings. Like any monarch, his movement was confined to his personal properties and heavily guarded mobbed public appearances, which was undoubtedly trying. And since he achieved such fame at such a young age, like any prince or king, he had virtually no opportunity for normal, unfettered geographic exploration, and he alternately embraced this gift/curse — as in his royal military ensembles — and fought against it — as in his more threatening, soldier-based military ensembles.

Prince Charles:

Michael Jackson in military shirt with child in 1993

Jackson in more aggressive ammo military gear in 1993

In royal military jacket at Elizabeth Taylor's birthday celebration in 1997

Some of Jackson’s military jackets were rather conservative, approximating their official prototypes, but many more were colorful, glitzy, and laden with sparkles. It’s no coincidence that Jackson was a huge admirer of earlier pop royalty the Beatles (he procured the publishing rights to that influential band’s songbook) whose influential album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967) portrayed the Beatles in silly psychedelic ’60s military gear:

And Michael’s interpretations:

Michael Jackson and Brooke Shields at American Music Awards 1984

The flamboyant “King of Pop” in his royal jacket, complete with golden sash and epaulets, with presidential royalty the Reagans in conservative suits:

President Ronald Reagan praises Jackson's contribution to the drunk-driving awareness, 1984

SEXUALITY / GENDER
As many rock stars do, Jackson walked a tightrope between hyper-masculinity and femininity. Even glossing over the gory details of the Neverland Ranch kiddie porn/molestation fiasco (starting in 1993), I would be remiss to ignore Michael Jackson’s gender and sexuality issues. He never shied from gender ambiguity: on the contrary, he seemed to revel in them. His willowy body, straightened, flowing locks, lack of visible body or facial hair, permanent eyeliner and lipstick, and surgically slenderized jawline all contradicted his signature performative crotch grabs and pelvic thrusts. “In the Closet” (1991) is delightfully questionable in meaning, possibly referring to the unwanted media attention or to his ambiguous sexuality.

Jackson’s peek-a-boo curls emulate classic stars Rita Hayworth, Veronica Lake…

and bear eerie resemblance to his close personal friend who happens to be a classic movie star herself, Elizabeth Taylor:

Elizabeth Taylor, circa 1950s

In the “Scream” (1995) video, Michael and sister Janet are dressed in identical outfits that are clearly designed to blur dissimilarities between the siblings, not least of which being their respective genders:

The umbrella Jackson started toting for portable shade blurred gender lines in a more subtle way, plucked from the long line of both Eastern and Western women protecting themselves from the sunlight’s harsh rays by strolling with parasols.

Michael Jackson with umbrella, circa 2009

A geisha under a parasol (note the similar white skin and red mouth):

The body suits of the 1990s were generally worn by women, and then underneath pants. Jackson’s body suits worn over his pants, served as inner-as-outwear, much as Madonna used Gautier’s external corset/body suit in her Blond Ambition tour (1990). Though they were a female fashion, Jackson actually uses them to emphasize his crotch (Madonna did as well), both confusing gender lines and emphasizing male ones. Finally (but less interesting), the body suit has practical applications, staying put while the body underneath gyrates and writhes in dance, though I somehow doubt that’s what attracted Michael to them.

HIStory tour (1995):

Madonna in Jean-Paul Gautier’s Blond Ambition bustier (1990). (She sometimes wore it over pants like Michael.)

BURLESQUE
Part of what feminized many of Jackson’s ensembles were the sheer numbers of sparkles, lending a burlesque feeling to an otherwise masculine outfit. Much of his wardrobe was designed to remain visible to stadiums of thousands, but even in smaller gatherings and public appearances, the man indulged his penchant for rhinestones. Rhinestone studded and luminescent materials have a rich tradition in the (female dominated) burlesque world, highlighting every curve and suggestive movement for the audience. Again Michael taps into an overtly sexual genre, muddling his presentation of his sexuality.

Dita Von Teese, covergirl of the neo-burlesque movement, as a sexy rhinestone cowboy:

Selections from Michael’s bedazzled wardrobe can be found in this slideshow. I mean, the man had bedazzled socks:

Guy Trebay of the New York Times wrote, “More than almost any entertainer in memory, Michael Jackson was entirely of show business, and was seldom out of costume.” His influences were culled from a wide variety of sources, but it’s striking that even as he borrowed heavily from both genders’ beauty standards, a wide timeline of popular fashion and pop culture references, etc., the celebrity influences were primarily caucasian / Eastern. His narrowing facial modifications, relaxed hair and mysterious extreme pallor externalize a complex struggle with race identity (in addition to the feminine associations  and gender / sexuality questions they raise).

Many of Michael Jackson’s fashions caught on (the red leather jacket, the single glove is making a comeback on the likes of Biance and Victoria Beckham, etc.), but many more were just so outrageous (silken face masks, male burkas) that they die with the man. One of the amazing aspects of Jackson’s style (and I think this is a typical marker of a fashion icon) is that no matter how outrageous he looked throughout his life, he was consistent in the visual motifs with which he decorated himself, ultimately lending an agelessness to the man — after shedding his afro, he pretty much looked like an indeterminate 20-or-30-something-year-old, did he not? May we all leave such a legacy, fashion, musical, or otherwise.

Further Reading / Viewing:

• Deborah Nadoolman Landis, costume designer of several M.J. videos including Thriller, writes for FrockTalk “Michael Jackson fashion icon“
• Video mashups:
• West Side Story with “Bad” (1987) playing, sampling clips from WSS’s knife fight scene and the “Cool” numbers. (There are many other similar mashups that actually splice Michael Jackson video clips with West Side Story ones.)
• “Puttin’ on the Ritz” with Michael Jackson actually ballroom and tap dancing in white tails and top hat circa 1977 when he was 19.
• Fred Astaire set to Jackson’s “Smooth Criminal”
• New York Times slideshow

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New York Magazine brought an annual event to my attention I had no idea existed, but I wish I had in high school: namely, a Duck Tape “Stuck at Prom” contest. Costumes were judged based on workmanship (30%), originality (30%), use of colors (15%, accessories (15%), and quantity of Duck Tape used (10%).

In addition to my well documented love of clothes and the relationship between technology and fashion, it just so happens that I’ve recently become obsessed with duct tape crafty things. My sister recently gave me a duct tape wallet (at my request), and I intend to fashion myself a duct tape DIY dress form in the near future, so I’m all about exploring the wonders of this durable, malleable, industrial material.

The other aspect here is clearly The Prom. As I mentioned in a previous post, proms can seem silly and superficial at best, and an excuse for insecure teens to exclude at worst. However, I believe this much hyped event has the redeeming quality of allowing teenagers about to enter an important new phase of life– adulthood– to explore the implications of this change sartorially.  Somewhat ironically, this contest’s textile restrictions promote more whimsical, thematic, youthful looks rather than grownup ones, but it certainly encourages creativity and stresses fun in dress, and in my estimation, that is equally valuable.

As a side note, I was pleased to see that though contestants must enter as a pair, mixed (i.e. heterosexual) couples were not required for entry. Though I didn’t see any flaming gay couples, I was happy to know they were not explicitly excluded.

Here are some of my favorite contestants:

Hello pimpin’ goth pinstripes! Those must’ve taken forever to apply!

How can you not love the nerdy dapper Duck Tape dandy??

Though I think patriotic clothes are almost always distasteful, I was amused that the center “A” in “Obama” is a tiny White House:

I am so impressed this guy agreed to the bird theme:

Commitment to a weather motif– they were clearly looking to score high on the color segment:

It’s mildly amazing to me that this guy found a girl who was into the sci-fi theme at this tender, unassured age:

On the flip side, I was not such a fan of the beige, brown and turquoise cowboy prom look, for many reasons:

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Some fun facts about Milo:

• He requested a top hat at age 3 (I myself was an ancient 29 when I got my vintage pop-out top hat).
• He loves ascots (who doesn’t?).
• He likes to mix and match patterns and stripes.

Allow me to share some of my favorite Arlo ensembles:

Doesn’t he look like he’s going off to the office in a newsroom?

Cary Grant as a spineless (but hilarious) reporter in His Girl Friday (1940)

This one reminds me of the Mad Hatter costume I wore last Halloween (I wore my own vintage pop-up hat):

the Mad Hatter, Sir John Tenniel's illustration of Alice in Wonderland

I love red on red on red too:

I call this outfit Arlo’s 1890s inspired steampunk look:

Steampunk woman with goggles and cane

Arlo admits most of his ties are clip-ons which I cannot condone, though considering his youth I suppose I’ll let it slide. (Friends know I’m a tie snob all around — I only wear full Windsors myself.) I’ve joked for years about how my children are going to hate me for the suits and sailor outfits I’ll put them in; it’s comforting to know there are actually young people who choose to wear what many adults would consider outlandish. It gives me such joy to know there are parents who don’t shove Baby GAP down their childrens’ throats. Arlo reminded me that children are inherently creative, exploring a world they have not grasped all the rules of yet, perhaps giving them greater breadth of imagination than many adults, as they find what’s pleasing to themselves and not what they’ve been told is cool or fashionable or trendy.

Flashback to my own youth: I was raised on yard sales and hand-me-downs, which, being a child of the opulent, label conscious and snobbish 80’s, I lamented and resented daily. Seriously, I cried almost every morning as my mother forced me into layers of distinctly unattractive turtlenecks, stretched out tights held up by belts, and courderoys that were the antithesis of then-cool shiny spandex leggings (courderoys, that is, only on gym days at school — I was only allowed to wear skirts and dresses the rest of the days. And I attended public school!). But my mom redeemed herself at playtime. In the back hall we had a dress-up box (that grew over the years) filled with random flea market finds like reams of fabric and lace, tutus, hats, and clothes of all sorts that were either not in good enough shape to wear in “real life,” or were too big, or just too crazy. But my friends and I could entertain ourselves for hours with the contents of those boxes, wrapping the cloth around ourselves and assuming exotic identities, exploring the roles we might or might not actually appropriate later in life. And even though I now live in one of the fashion capitals of the world, I’m economically independent and can wear whatever I damn please, I actually choose to shop at secondhand and thrift shops still. And instead of waiting for the weekend to play in my dress-up box, I play dress-up every day, allowing my mood and creativity (not fleeting trends) to dictate what facet of my personality I choose to display. I hope young Arlo’s passion for dress brings him as much pleasure as mine continues to for me.

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Always a fan of reusing / redistributing clothes, I was delighted to read about Project Bridesmaids. Sponsored by Modern Bride Magazine and in conjunction with Project Hope, women were encouraged to donate their lightly worn bridesmaid dresses (jokes of the unwearability of these single serving dresses need not exist!) and formal gowns. Several hundred dresses were collected this year, which were displayed in NYC’s Hammerstein Ballroom on March 7 (in addition to a few other U.S. cities), available for redistribution to Harlem girls for their prom nights.

Nikkita McPherson found the ideal dress

Growing up in the astoundingly liberal Cambridge, MA public school system, my own prom was less of a life altering, date stressing fin de siecle and more of an amusing anomaly as a  school-sponsored party in a hotel — an opportunity to hang out with friends in a different location, really. But as someone who likes to dress up, I certainly appreciated the opportunity to flounce around in fancy gear, and I wish every high schooler who wants to participate in prom to be able to prance in something that elevates his/her self esteem, regardless of limited capital. Prom should be an opportunity for teenagers to play a little exploratory dress-up (an important game, I think), donning clothes they imagine adults wear on nights on the town — even if adults who wear prom-like dresses are probably only found in soap operas.

The website DonateMyDress.org helps you find other similar initiatives locally that I encourage you  and your friends to donate your own gowns to.

Related article:

“So Long, Bridesmaid; Hello, Prom Queen,” NYTimes March 7, 2009

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