Showing posts with label christian dior. Show all posts
Showing posts with label christian dior. Show all posts

Monday, September 8, 2014

It's Fashion Week!

On this rainy afternoon, I've been treating myself to a Sex and the City marathon, with the newest Vogue in my lap and Dior on my mind. The other Blackbird is soon to be listing our newest batch of scarves on Etsy, and since we are currently in the season called Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week, I've decided to round up my favorite designer scarves on Etsy for those of us who are too financially challenged to fly to New York for a bit of shopping. Cue techno music and heavy traffic!

Silk Diane Von Furstenberg, Here
 
1970s silk Chanel, Here

1970s silk Courreges, Here

Polyester Schiaparelli, Here
 
1959 silk Christian Dior (designed by YSL), Here

Silk Emilio Pucci, Here

1974 silk Hermes, Here

And here are a couple from our shop!
1960s silk Gucci, Our Shop

1985 silk Yves St. Laurent, Our Shop








Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Junk Love: Dior Drama

When the Blackbird girls go shopping for junk, we like to start out the day with a little fantasy element: In a perfect world, what would we find today? The answers usually involve fantastic mid-century furniture (signed of course), really good costume jewelry, and Robert Downey Jr. (oh please, like you didn't know this about us already). And then we close our eyes and chant vintage Dior, vintage Dior. Someday, there will probably be a rain dance of sorts, but our chances are still pretty terrible of actually finding any. But while we keep the dream alive, we like to spend a ridiculous percentage of our free time looking at photos of Dior dresses. Today's collection features dramatic skirts, starting with Dior's iconic scalloped ladies: Junon and Venus, both of which are in the collection of The Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Dior "Venus" dress, Costume Institute

Richard Avedon's photo of "Junon"
"Junon" dress, Costume Institute

And a few variations on the scallop theme:



For drama of a different length:


A bit of basket weave:
And...her.



Friday, August 2, 2013

The Skinny: Lucky Star

In-house fashion models, known as "mannequins," became popular in the mid-1800s house of Charles Frederick Worth, but it wasn't until the 1940s that the mannequins started gaining reputations of their own. One of the most famous of these ladies was Lucie Daouphars, later famously nicknamed "Lucky."


She started out poor, a miserable, married teenager with a baby. Her husband left, and she went to work in a metal factory as a solderer. That could have been her life--a single mother, struggling in a factory job in a war-torn country. But, the fashion world offered a nugget of hope. Agnes Drecoll was in desperate need of a short-term mannequin, and Lucie was everything she could have hoped for. As someone who is gorgeous, ambitious, and who walks like a goddess, she gained fame and a type of freedom that most mannequins had never known before: the ability to freelance for different brands as her own reputation grew. Lucie worked her way up the Mt. Olympus of French fashion, from Hermes, to Jacques Fath, to Zeus himself--Christian Dior.

Lucky became Dior's muse. He once said "that to design a dress on Lucky was to be granted a constant source of inspiration." As he preferred to design clothing by draping fabric on live models, we can only imagine how many iconic Dior looks started out in a brainstorming session with Lucky. Le sigh....

Lucky and Dior; Here

She eventually quit modeling to start a rights group for other women in the mannequin profession. Sadly, she was diagnosed with a rapid-growing cancer in her early 40s. The pain kept her in bed most of the time, but she insisted on dressing and attending her birthday party. She died two days later.


The funeral was quite an event. It took place at the Church of St. Pierre de Chaillot in Paris, the same church that had hosted Dior's and Fath's funerals previously. The guests included dozens of models, seamstresses, and fashion delivery girls, as well as the bankers (and their wives)--the trendsetters of Paris fashion. Lucky was dressed in a red satin evening gown, embellished with jet and pearls, that Dior made for her as a parting gift when she resigned. It was a melancholy day, perhaps made more so for those who remembered the closing line from Lucky's book: "Fashion moves us because it dies so young."

*Information obtained from: http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=888&dat=19630723&id=BRUmAAAAIBAJ&sjid=d1IDAAAAIBAJ&pg=7061,1648724