1950s Inspired, Please Hold the Nostalgia!

My personal aesthetic is inspired by 1950s sophistication and beauty of women's attire:

full skirts, cardis, gloves, and pumps (although the Afro is a decade too early). I have conflicted feelings about "vintage," because Georgia in the 1950s was hardly a time to be blindly romanticizing fashion. However, I'll spare y'all for now and save the social implications for another post...

I always find the most amazing inspiration at: 

http://16stonevintage.com/,  

http://vintageblackglamour.tumblr.com/, 

http://ofanotherfashion.tumblr.com/, and 

http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/collections/vanvechten/

The Outfit Details:

Dress: Handmade (by Me) 

(using a Simplicity pattern that is unfortunately discontinued 

and Brother & Sister brand fabric I purchased at Hobby Lobby  )

Cardigan: The Limited

Sweater Clip: Vintage (via Etsy)

Gloves: David's Bridal

Hair Accessory: Old Navy

Shoes: BCBGeneration

Library Chic: National Library Week (via Of Another Fashion)

Of Another Fashion is a rich virtual repository of images of women who once occupied societal margins. Consequently, their sense fashion was also marginalized. Of Another Fashion has scanned the archives, collected family photos, and accepted contributions from readers to amass a collection that will honor women of color and their place in the annals of vintage fashion.

In honor of National Library Week the two women below are trailblazing librarians:

Lucille Baldwin Brown was the first Black public county librarian in Tallahassee, Florida.

In 1924 Vivian Gordon Harsh first African American librarian to work at the Chicago Public Library.

True Fashion Icon: Dorothy Porter Wesley

Library Chic: National Library Week

Dorothy Wesley Porter (1905 - 1955). Photo taken by Carl Van Vechten (1880-1964) in New York, May 23 1951.
From Yale Collection of American Literature, Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library. Retrieved from http://beinecke.library.yale.edu/dl_crosscollex/brbldl/oneITEM.asp?pid=2027251&iid=1104674&srchtype= 

Dorothy Porter was the first Black woman to be awarded a Masters of Library Science from Columbia University in 1932. Her first job was at Howard University and she remained there for forty-three years. Porter was tasked with making the Jesse Moorland collection a modern research library.  She created a logistically sound collection that served Howard's students and visiting scholars.  She expanded the collection and authenticated materials with extensive bibliographies. She was responsible for Howard's most prized acquisition, the Spingarn Collection, and the library became the Moorland-Spingarn Research Library. Porter retired in 1973 and Howard University dedicated the “Dorothy B. Porter Reading Room” in her honor.

References:
http://www.howard.edu/msrc/about/HistoryFULL.html
http://www.aaregistry.org/historic_events/view/dorothy-porter-wesley-developer-modern-research-library-black-studies
http://www.nytimes.com/1995/12/20/us/dorothy-porter-wesley-91-black-history-archivist.html

AN ART NERD'S NIGHT IN

Daughters of the Dust--

one of my to ten movies of all time!

A breakthrough movie by Julie Dash

I'm a HUGE BarbaraO fan♥
She is a co-star in the film &
plays the role of "Yellow Mary"

Gotta have my tea!

If I was going somewhere tonight, I would take a cue from BarbaraO's understated and eclectic glamour: bangles, coiled rings, classic white blouse, and ikat scarf; I improvised the rest :) 

Button Front Tops by Asos
Platforms by Fergie

TENDING MY MOTHERS' GARDENS IN A ROOM OF MY OWN: Spoiled Rotten!

I designed this inspiration board of French women and expats because I've been pretty uninspired to study for my French exam lately. I've let go of the bitterness left by my University's French department failing me because I couldn't get my Mum's death certificate in time to prove I wasn't skipping out on French class; but, I digress. French is one of the two languages required for my PhD and Yoruba is the other. A little visual inspiration should be just what I need to get in gear...

Left to right, top to bottom:
film still from Noir De, Bessie Coleman, Lois Mailou Jones, Josephine Baker, French Vogue, Nina Simone

But as I cut and pasted women into my montage their amazing stories made me feel so small and petty. Elizabeth "Bessie" Coleman's level of determination made me hang my head in shame.

Bessie Coleman, the first African-American female pilot was born in 1892, the tenth of 13 children. Coleman got the idea of becoming a pilot while reading newspaper articles about World War I pilots. No flight school in the United States would train her, but Coleman didn’t let that stop her. She took a French language course in Chicago, then, using her savings and the help of some influential friends, she traveled to France. She learned to fly and got her license in 1921 from the Federation Aeronautique Internationale. When Coleman returned to the United States, now a celebrity, she performed in airshows and raised money to open her own flight school. She died in 1926 in an aircraft accident, apparently while flight testing a Curtiss JN-4 (from Bessie Coleman: A Life Less Ordinary, AOPA Pilot Blog, January 26, 2009 by Jill W. Tallman, Associate Editor ).

Nothing kept Bessie Coleman from her dream: not racial barriers, financial barriers, gender barriers, and MOST CERTAINLY NOT A FRENCH LANGUAGE REQUIREMENT. 

TENDING MY MOTHERS' GARDENS IN A ROOM OF MY OWN: A Time to...

I never watched my mother or grandmothers get harried over New Year’s Day, in the way that I have over the past few days. Their only requisites were an immaculately organized and well stocked home with pots of greens and black-eyed peas cooking—no sweat! Unlike my wise foremothers, my energy levels have ebbed and flowed frenetically as I plotted my next move for 2012. My plan has to be on paper by December 31!

I continued to make lists and organize, only to make more lists and reorganize. My energy was of the destructive variety: the kind that uproots harvests before they’re ripe and struggles to plant seed in frozen ground. My turning point was anxiety that manifested physically my chest. I took a moment to collect my calm with my  Henri Bendel Vanilla Bean Candle and a cup of (decaffeinated!) Zhena’s Fireside Chai. Breathe…in 1,2,3,4,5; out 1,2,3,4,5

My ancestors recognized the power of seasons, so New Year’s Day didn’t cause them to lose their cool. They weren’t distracted by human demarcations on their life goals, because everything had its own time and season. I felt my own seasons shift in June, and again radically in August.

"To everything there is a season,
and a time for every matter or purpose under heaven..." (Ecclesiastes 3:10, AMP)

I let all the articles and posts about resolutions get to me and make me feel as if what I was doing (my list of thirty-two things to accomplish before I turn thirty-two) wasn’t enough. All those articles and posts I’ve collected are pretty awesome, but I’ll file them away for the start of my next season.

AN ART NERD'S NIGHT IN

Tonight I'll be home watching my DVD set of The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency with the illustrious Jill Scott as Precious Ramotswe.

PLOT: Precious leaves the past and the countryside of Botswana behind to start a detective agency in Gaborone after her father's death. She uses the monetary gifts and priceless lessons that her father has given her to become the best detective in the region.

The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency has always been one of my favorite shows but I identified with the Precious character more after my Mum passed away. In one episode she says, "When an esteemed loved one dies, she becomes an ancestor. Those she left behind can depend on her wisdom and guidance if they honor her by leading a successful, productive being, living to one's full, god-given potential." Of course I feverishly began to strategically plan my goals, thinking about the lessons that my mother and grandmothers taught me...

Another reason that I identify with Precious is because of her penchant for unconscious munching as she sits in contemplation. It became a nasty habit of mine in graduate school. One of her clients calls her "the fattest tart in Gaborone," and in another case she is taunted by the women that she is investigating at a pageant...my inner critic has gotten to me--just a smoothie for me tonight.

I hope that your night out or in is a great one!

A TRUE FASHION ICON: Happy Birthday Mrs. Daisy Bates

Daisy Bates and her husband L.C. owned and operated a black newspaper press to keep African Americans informed of news that affected their community. They were active members of the NAACP, but they are best known for their diligent and successful efforts to integrate Little Rock's public school's in 1957. The Little Rock Nine were escorted into Little Rock Central High School by soldiers against the will of the local enraged community. The road for the children, their parents, and the Bates was dangerous, but they perservered. In her memoir The Long Shadow of Little Rock, Daisy Bates reveals that she was emotionally exhausted from the constant stress. Yet she remained composed under the pressure with incredible style, grace, and beauty. Mrs. Bates is not only a true style icon, but an example to this generation of women of sacrifice and steadfast devotion to our values.

“Jailing our youth will not solve the problem in Little Rock. We are only asking for full citizenship rights.”

"What is happening at Little Rock transcends segregation and integration–this is a question of right against wrong." 

WHAT I WORE TODAY: MY FASHION DNA

My grandmother had a keen sense of style. She never wore a pair of pants a day in her life. I thought she was weird when I was younger, but now I feel blessed that she instilled a modicum of femininity that few women can say they have had. I thought she was mean because she expected the same commitment to femininity from me. I just wanted to fit in and wear pants, jeans, and shorts like everybody else. I know I inherited a lot of my flair from her. She gave me my first sewing machine; I remember it so well.

Ruth Ellen, whom I affectionately called Gramma, must have taken this picture in the early to mid-1940s. I'm 90% sure that she is in Perrine, Florida, and not the Bahamas, which made me wonder why she was wearing a capelet over a long-sleeved shirt. Whatever the reason, she is working it, especially with that flower pin. I attempted a similar look, but to my chagrin I didn't pull it off as gracefully. I had too many heavy layers, which ultimately made me look heavy and uncomfortable. I have a lot more to learn from Gramma...

TENDING MY MOTHERS' GARDENS IN A ROOM OF MY OWN

The premise for my musings about gardens & rooms:

"Our mothers and grandmothers, some of them: moving to music not yet written. And they waited. They waited for a day when the unknown thing that was in them would be made known; but guessed, somehow in their darkness, that on the day of their revelation they would be long dead...

Walker's article speaks of black women during slavery: "They were creators, who lived lives of spiritual waste, because they were so rich in spirituality - which is the basis of Art - the strain of enduring their unused and unwanted talent drove them insane...

What did it mean for a black woman to be an artist in our grandmothers' time? In our great-grandmothers' day? It is a question with an answer cruel enough to stop the blood." Alice Walker, "In Search of Our Mother's Gardens," MS Magazine Vol. 16 (April 20, 1981).

As I've mention ad nauseum, I am so very blessed to have had overtly creative female elders who encouraged and fostered that same well-spring in me. So rather than searching for my Mothers' gardens', I am reaping the harvest that they have sown in my life and making sure to tend my garden wisely. And although, Walker acknowledges that a room of one's own is not necessary to spawn the creative process, I am fortunate enough to have one.

In "A Room of One's Own," Virginia Woolf deems a room and purse of ones' own a precursor to creativity. Walker uses Phillis Wheatley, an indigent slave, as a prime example that a room is a luxury - a decadence even. In the 21st century, I make the best of both world's in a room of my own with a reminder of the gardens I must tend.

TENDING MY MOTHERS' GARDENS IN A ROOM OF MY OWN: The Diva

As I mentioned in a prior post, I am blessed to have had overtly creative female elders. My paternal grandmother was a poet, pastor, baker, floral stylist, hairdresser, and an owner of multiple small businesses.  However, what I found most interesting was that she was a published songwriter and had recorded a gospel album in the 1950s, "Keep on Living the Prize is at the End." I never had a chance to hear the song or see the album but I can only imagine...

BAHAMA MAMA

I was immediately attracted to an Essie nail polish called Bahama Mama and it was destined to be a part of my make-up collection.  My great-grand father was born in the Bahamas, on the island of Eleuthera.  He married and raised his beautiful family in Miami, Florida. That's him Herrick Thompson, Sr., the handsome gentleman on the right. It's amazing how I keep finding these connections (however small) between my style and my history.    

RESPECT THE WISDOM OF THE ‘FRO

I’m supposed to be taking a year off of grad school to rest & rejuvenate. I’m scratching my head, because I don’t think it’s happening. It’s so not happening!

•I promised myself I’d go to a Yoga retreat this year in Atlanta -- it’s come and gone.

•The spa trip I’ve been planning for months…

•The weekend at Lake Oconee…

•The hiking in North Georgia…

•The membership to Yoga Moga…

•And meditation classes…

•The pink Schwinn cruiser…

Who inspired this sudden epiphany? Two women with the most magical afros that I’ve ever seen (besides my Mum's) – Tracee Ellis Ross and Michaela Angela Davis.

My long lost girlfriend, Tracee Ellis Ross revealed in an interview that after Girlfriends she was able “to do all the other things that fill (her) well” (Jet 10.10/17.2011, 21). I read that sentence at least five times because I didn't get it – really.  As a military wife, my husband’s core values became my own: Service before self makes self care almost impossible.

[On a side note, I love how Ross incorporates the realities of military life in her projects. I will always remember Joan kidnapping Aaron to flee to Mexico to escape his deployment. Helen’s phone call with her son in Afghanistan last week was such a sweet moment and I’m eager to see if Dr. Carla Reed can intervene in any of Helen’s residual trauma.]

And then came the Tweet from @MADvison (22 October 2011):  

“Self Care is not self indulgent, Self Destruction is. This has been my recent deep consideration. Care for self with stillness, wholesome food, prayer, excellent medical, emotional, physical attention, are soul/love based. Learning addictions, obsessions, resistance are so ego/fear rooted. How do you self care & self indulge?” 

I sat holding my Blackberry thinking too hard about a question that I already had the answer to…

TO BE CONTINUED