Classic Film Fashion #172: Innovative hairstyles for Dog Day Afternoon (1975).
Folks were finally waking up from the aesthetic nightmare of hippie overtones in fashion by the mid 1970s. In Sidney Lumet’s film we catch sight of two hairstyles which would become major influences in popular culture. Glimpse Pacino’s hair in the opening scene, while he’s in the car and enters the bank for the first time. Admire the height of it, the spiked-teased-sprayed quality to it that every punk worth his or her salt tried to emulate up to the present day. A sign of disheveled rebellion, that style will always retain its chic. Those scraggly hippie locks never looked more ridiculous placed in context with Pacino’s mod/punk hybrid. In addition, Carol Kane’s hair augured Princess Leia’s famous coiffure, without a doubt. The duo of coiled braids elongates Kane’s neck to produce a vulnerable yet regal quality, just the thing for Lucas to use to pigeon-hole his token female character.
Classic Film Fashion #171: William Powell’s dressing gowns for The Thin Man series (1934-1945).
Because Hugh Hefner is like school in the summer—no class—he has transferred his slimeball taint over the custom of a man in a dressing gown (which the buffoon re-named a smoking jacket). Before the flesh peddler greased the image, celluloid men of distinction, such as William Powell as Nick Charles in the six film Thin Man franchise, wore a dressing gown to maintain a suave flair during their downtime. Urbane men of culture and wit stretched out in silky robes for well-earned leisure about the house with the missus. Powell would never have reduced stylish attire as a cheap means to serial seduction.
Stellar Vintage #81: Paulette Goddard in a bandeau top and full skirt.
Classic Film Fashion #170: Barbara Stanwyck’s floral print dress for The PurchasePrice (1932).
Brent is a dick for the entire run, a cold fish who cultivates a major case of the hurty feelings once his mail order bride Stanwyck expects more than him pawing at her immediately after arrival. Then at the end the hayseed looks at his wife who has just succeeded in helping him put out a fire, and his demeanor turns all ‘pathetic fallacy,’ wherein the heat transfers to his loins. Stanwyck wears the cutest floral frock with cuffs and collar, something you’d pay a hefty tag for at Anthropologie today.
The Purchase Price (1932) George Brent & Barbara Stanwyck smooch.
Classic Film Fashion #169: Margaret Hayes in a pencil skirt and peplum jacket for Blackboard Jungle (1955).
Hayes’ character wastes a chic suit on high school students, one of whom drags her into the library and proceeds to tear it from her back in an attempted rape. The poor teacher learns that meeting a class of juvenile thugs in stylish clothes not only leaves you vulnerable to predators, it also opens you up to accusations that you ‘provoked’ the attack, or were asking for it all along. A double bind for ladies seems clear; chance the label frumpy or risk the brand rape-bait.
Stellar Vintage #80: Mae Clarke is a bias-cut satin gown, hands-free opera gloves and swathe neck-twist.
Stellar Vintage #79: Myrna Loy in wool jersey with lace hankie accent.
Classic Film Fashion #168: James Garner’s uniform in The Great Escape (1963).
When ladies say they love a man in uniform, I’m assuming they’ve selected Garner as an ideal template, a hunka-hunka incarnation of masculine livery if ever there was one, without appearing too self-serious or macho. Garner exhibits an elastic, graceful manhood in a similar vein of Cary Grant. He knows he’s pretty, but he’s not a prick about it. In his crisp, slate blue uniform, thick cream turtleneck and aviator jacket, Garner rests easy in his charm.
Stellar Vintage #78: Barbara Stanwyck reclines in a sparkling gown.
Classic Film Fashion #167: Joan Crawford ‘can make a peplum move’ in The DamnedDon’t Cry (1950).
Once she leaves her growling husband and before she takes up with a high-minded gangster, Joan Crawford’s character earns a living as a model for buyers at a wholesale joint. A co-worker encourages her to join in entertaining the salesmen for extra cash, since she can ‘make a peplum move.’ (There’s a shot of Crawford in a killer slashed peplum around the 1:20 mark). Crawford set the gold standard for style in film noir.
