I'll just go ahead and admit it— I've found myself back on online dating again. Ho hum.
In a certain age bracket the selection of men seems to skew in 2 different directions: Old and old with a motorcycle. —Joke! —Actually, there are many at this age who go to great lengths to emphasize all the biking/skiing/rock climbing/surfing and general Fountain of Youth quaffing they do. Unfortunately, these dont work for me. I dread the inevitable big reveal when I have to admit that while, yes, I have been ON a bike, no, I do not actually bike. Or ski, or surf, etc. My intermittent exercise class attendance just wouldnt cut it with these silver Adonises so no, I guess I wont be checking you out on the slopes.
So, after scrolling and swiping my way through the bald and the beige, the Every Men, the superannuated skater boys, the dandies with unseemly numbers of profile pics, the leathery outer borough grandpas, each crag and jowl limned by the glare of a bathroom mirror selfie, I again find myself looking for solace in... the long dead or fictional. (I've been here before, and you can read more of the back story.) If you are well over a hundred I will probably find you devastatingly attractive. And I could create an OKChronos of the historical hotties I've collected over the years.
Without further preamble feast your eyes on sometime Impressionist Gustave Caillebotte’s Canoer of 1877. The nip of his waist! The snap of his brim! That grip! His steely intensity belied only by the cherubic indolence of his mouth. He could be in Williamsburg serving you your next Absinthe cocktail, and he could rock my boat anytime.
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
4.17.2015
Historical Dating
Labels:
art/design,
collections,
fashion,
nostalgia/remembrance,
peevishness
11.25.2014
Hysterically Entertaining
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| Hysterical yawning |
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| Nouvelle Iconographie de la Salpêtrière by Dr. Jean-Martin Charcot. Salpetriere was a major psychiatric hospital in Paris, a former dumping ground for women diagnosed as "hysterical" |
| Polaire, one of the most famous of the "epileptic" performers. image from Polaire 1900 |
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| In 1905, 21 American patients' seizures were filmed—called ”epilepsy biographs”— by the American Mutoscope and Biograph company |
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| documentary images, Nouvelle Iconographie de la Salpêtrière by Dr. Jean-Martin Charcot |
Edgar Degas, At the Cafe Concert: The Song of the Dog, 1875-77
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| Thérésa, a popular 19th century gommeuse |
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| "idiot" comic Dranem, 1905 |
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| The maniacal British acrobatic troupe the Hanlon-Lees, c. 1878. Bibliotheque Nationale |
It is certain that today, primarily in cities, hysteria is the illness in vogue. It is everywhere."
— Dr. Paul-Max Simon, 1881
Progress and fashion have just given us a new way to go nuts. It replaces snobbery, the races and the occult... It’s neurasthenia. All the world has it my friends.—the song “Neurasthenia,” 1906
A good half of the hit songs of [today] belong to the jiggling pit of Charcot...
they have gesticulatory hysteria—critic Georges Montorgeuil, 1896*
Polaire! The agitating and agitated Polaire! ...What a devilish mimic, what a coffee-grinder and what a belly-dancer! ...Polaire skips, flutters, wriggles, arches from the hips, the back, the belly,
mimes every kind of shock, twists, coils, rears, twirls... trembling like a stuck wasp, miaows,
faints to what music and what words! The house, frozen with stupor, forgets to applaud.
—Jean Lorrain Decadent novelist and critic
— Dr. Paul-Max Simon, 1881
Progress and fashion have just given us a new way to go nuts. It replaces snobbery, the races and the occult... It’s neurasthenia. All the world has it my friends.—the song “Neurasthenia,” 1906
A good half of the hit songs of [today] belong to the jiggling pit of Charcot...
they have gesticulatory hysteria—critic Georges Montorgeuil, 1896*
Polaire! The agitating and agitated Polaire! ...What a devilish mimic, what a coffee-grinder and what a belly-dancer! ...Polaire skips, flutters, wriggles, arches from the hips, the back, the belly,
mimes every kind of shock, twists, coils, rears, twirls... trembling like a stuck wasp, miaows,
faints to what music and what words! The house, frozen with stupor, forgets to applaud.
—Jean Lorrain Decadent novelist and critic
When I first researched and posted about the early 20th century cabaret performer Polaire, I came across the description gommeuse epileptique. Lazily, I relied on Google translate to elucidate. It spit forth "gummy epileptic" which didnt help much, so I was amused and left it at that. It wasnt until a recent commenter tipped me off to a wonderful book that explained that peculiar phrase and revealed that "epilectic singers" were an entire genre of entertainment in late 19th and early 20th century France. Why the French Love Jerry Lewis: From Cabaret to Early Cinema
The book discusses a particular kind of performance which first appeared in the music halls of France in the 1870s and 80s. It was a comedic style characterized by frenetic movements, tics, facial grimaces, and other bizarre behavior that, Gordon asserts, mimicked various nervous disorders such as hysteria, epilepsy, and Tourette's Syndrome beginning to get coverage in the popular press. It was just at this time that modern psychiatry and neurological study were emerging. Hysteria and later neurasthenia were the focus of professional and public attention alike. Jean-Martin Charcot, dubbed the Napoleon of Neuroses, was instrumental in the popularization (or “vulgarization”) of hysteria. The foremost French neurologist of his day and a professor of anatomical pathology, Charcot used photography for the classification and diagnosis of hysteria and published the widely circulated Photographic Iconography of the Salpêtrière (1876-80) and the New Iconography of the Salpetriere (1888—1918). Referring to the Salpetriere, a hospital in the middle of Paris which confined 4000 women as incurable or insane, Charcot stated he was "in possession of a kind of museum of living pathology whose holdings were virtually inexhaustible.” He opened the doors of that museum to Paris and put on demonstrations, allowing the spectacle of illness to seep into into the public psyche and vernacular. (It is also of interest that a noted experimental psychologist, Alfred Binet, wrote for the Grand Guignol Theater—which deserves a post of its own.)
The French public was fascinated and entertained by watching pathology as spectacle in both the (medical) amphitheater and at the theater. (After all, it was only a step removed from the earlier, well-established bourgeois pass time of touring insane asylums.) For the high brow—Flaubert, Maupassant, the Goncourt brothers, Huysmans, and Jarry all published works relating to hysteria or neurasthenia— to the lowest common thrill-seeker these nervous diseases and the shocks of psychiatric treatment became short hand for the notion of “modernity,” a motif later picked up by Dada and the Surrealists.//
It seems to me that in America anything similar to this style would be black entertainment—ragtime, cakewalks, jazz—and the dance crazes of the teens—the Grizzly Bear, Turkey Trot. Although Gordon doesnt discuss her, the book explains why the French would go wild for Josephine Baker.
*Songs such as “Too Nervous,” “Tata's Tic,” “La Parisienne Epileptique,” and “I’m a Neurasthenic.”
8.15.2014
Sexiest Men (no longer) Alive (UPDATE)
Baron von Richthofen, c 1917
80 direct hits. Need I say more?
Early aviator Harry Atwood, c 1910
Not exactly my type but flyboy's got something, too.
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Reverand Rollin Heber Neale, 1850 That is one nasty preacherman. William Sydney Mount, 1853 A dastardly lout, a cad, a rogue. Tell me more. |
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| Albert of Belgium, about 1917 Impeccably turned out for trench warfare; he can carry me to safety anytime. |
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| Anton Chekhov, 1890s Weasly, but then again... |
| a tailor, Giovanni Battista Moroni, 1565-70 Turbulence beneath the calm, no mere shopkeeper, he. The heart of an artist strains beneath that finicky, micro-slashed doublet. I see Jeremy Irons in the movie. William Hogarth, Louis-François Roubiliac, c 1740 Hogarth is more of a runner-up but I do love this bust. He's got a laddish humor and pugilistic intensity that wouldnt be out of place in a Guy Ritchie film. |
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| NEW! Daniel Trembly MacDougal (1865-1958), botanist and tree ring expert. He'd go to the green market to get you flowers and fill you in on the taxonomical nomenclature |
UPDATE! We have a new historical dead boyfriend! Thanks to Mia:
A lady could do worse than Daniel Trembly MacDougal!I've been collecting them on and off, images of men that seem incredibly appealing to me despite the century or two (or several) that might separate us. It started with that photo of Chekhov. Something about the greatcoat and the reed slim cane and that cocky, short man sensibility... You may remember the electrifying Reverend Neale and the darkly dangerous Mr. William Sydney Mount from my Sartorialist, 1850s Edition post.
MacDougal (1865-1958) began working at the New York Botanical Garden in 1899 as Director of the Laboratories and was promoted in 1904 to an Assistant Directorship. He was recognized as the leading American authority on desert ecology and one of the earliest botanists to research chlorophyll. He is also known as the inventor of the MacDougal dendrograph, an instrument used for recording changes in the volume of tree trunks.
This is merely a trifling survey and part of on-going research... A good Regency-era Romantic is a must and I am certainly forgetting some entrancing 18th century fellow so please do let me know who should be on this list.
Where is William Powell you might ask? Or Kurt Cobain? or any number of too-recent, too-recognized, or too-well-publicized men who could surely otherwise be on a list of Sexiest Dead Men? Well, this is an inexact science but I'd say they need to have been in their sexy heyday the better part of a century ago to make it to my list.
PS: Someone asked why I skipped Lord Byron. I have to report that his reputation always seemed more attractive to me than he did.
Labels:
art/design,
collections,
death,
fashion,
history,
photograph(y)
7.09.2013
Calling all Invalid Ladies
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| Burdock Blood Bitters "There are thousands of females in America who suffer untold miseries from chronic diseases common to their sex. This is due largely to the peculiar habits of life and fashion, and the improper training of girlhood... All Invalid Ladies should send for our Special Circular addressed to Ladies Only, which treats on a subject of vital importance." "This 'safe' remedy contains over 19 percent of alcohol, with only 4.85 percent of solids (nearly half of which is sugar), and alkaloids possibly derived from hydrastis. The amount of vegetable extractives is small, certainly not enough to give the results claimed. "From the composition reported, and also from the name of the stuff, it appears to be one of the nostrums of the old 'blood purifier' type. Such products, as you know, are useless, as they do not purify the blood.'"– the CANADIAN MEDICAL ASSOCIATION Journal, 1937 |
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| It will positively cure deafness in 2 days. Dr. Thomas' Eclectric Oil was first produced by Dr. S.N. Thomas of Phelps, New York in the late 1840s and reportedly contained “Spirits of Turpentine, Camphor, Oil of Tar, Red Thyme and Fish Oil specially processed.” It was marketed until the 1950s. |
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| "GRODER'S DYSPEPSIA SYRUP Cures the System. A BROKEN DOWN ENGINE is like the human system, stricken with disease. Nine tenths of all our diseases arise from the stomach, because the stomach is Nature's Boiler Room where the steam (the blood) that moves the human machinery is really made. Keep the stomach in good order by the use of GRODER'S DYSPEPSIA SYRUP, and the machinery will run smoothly.” |
Labels:
art/design,
collections,
ephemera,
fashion,
type/lettering
5.24.2013
4.03.2013
Top Form
White silk, or probably beaver, hat, c 1848, from iphotocentral
Below, how did the top hat sink so low?
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| Lincoln in his stovepipe at Antietam, 1862 |
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| Mose, famous Bowery B'hoy and fireman, was a New York urban hero character popular for decades. Mose's and Bill the Butcher's hats should probably have had more in common, but the subtleties may have been more than the costume designer was able to discern. |
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| "Bill the Butcher", Gangs of New York His hat probably would have been glossy black with a flat brim, similar to Mose |
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| Civil engineer Isambard Kingdom Brunel, and below, second from right, at the attempted launch of the steamship Great Eastern, November 1857, via His hat seems a little worse for the wear |
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| Ambrotype of two would-be dandies, c.1855. via FIDM |
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| A conformateur, a hat-fitting device. See much more at the Musee du Chapeau in Bern |
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| The Brighton Swimming and Sea Bathing Club, 1863, via |
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| "Modifications of the Beaver Hat" |
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| Henry IV of France, 1591-- Top hat progenitor? |
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| Above and below, two Incroyables— young French aristos who mixed reactionary politics with outré fashion after the Revolution. They're both cutting very daring figures for 1798 by wearing the "Titus" haircut— we know it as a Caesar—and abbreviated top hats. This is when the top hat really got going. The man above is also carrying a noteworthy accoutrement— the umbrella. |
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| The Mad Hatter by Sir John Tenniel, 1865/1871, and Uncle Sam by Montgomery Flagg, 1916/17: both wear white or dove beaver toppers in the flared, modified "Wellington" shapes. Uncle Sam would have appeared pretty retro in 1916 |
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| Ladies in riding habits, c 1900 |
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| Astaire, making a last hurrah for top hats in the eponymous movie, 1935 |
Something that appears similar to a top hat crops up sometime in the very late 16th century. During the 17th century vaguely top hat-like appurtenances called capotains could be found atop Puritans (think "Pilgrim Hat" ) and English Civil War antagonists. I don't really count these.
The style really picks up after the French Revolution when those who kept their heads dared to throw off the powdered wigs and adopt outlandish head gear. (See those crazy Incroyables and Merveilleuses.)
Top hats made from felted beaver fur dominated the 19th century (the industry practically wiped out the beaver). I've always loved the exaggeratedly tall Lincolnian version but the subtleties of this type of hat are myriad. It took on dramatic cylindrical, flared or pegged crowns (rising to over 8 inches in the 1850s); brims could be wide and flat disks, or rolled and swooping. There were even collapsible "Gibus" variants made so everyone could attend the opera without coming to blows.
The top hat steamed its way into the 20th century (by now made of glossy silk plush) and made it through the 1930s retaining most of its dignity. By Kennedy’s 1961 inauguration it was an awkward throwback. And alas, as the 21st century dawned, this once crisp and debonair hat was relegated to Halloween costumes, a few cloying rock guitarists, and legions of Steam Punk aficionados and Comic Con attendees.
Labels:
art/design,
collections,
fashion,
momentary obsessions
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