Fashion in Unexpected Places

A few weeks ago I was at a concert at an old church in Seattle. They had rented a small organ from St. James (Catholic cathedral up the hill) for some pieces that needed more of a small continuo sound rather than the big pipe organ. At the intermission my Dad, ever the organ nerd, went up to check it out. He came back excitedly saying that I had to see something. I expected that I was going to have to muster up some enthusiasm for the keyboard or the style of pipes, but instead this is what he was pointing to:

In case you can't read it, the little plaque says:

In Memory Of

JOHN DOYLE BISHOP

Dedicated Advent I 1986

John follows me everywhere!!

Hay Girl Hay

Since JDB passed away in 1980, this would probably have been purchased with money he left to St. James after his death. (As opposed to the green carpet he bought for the church while he was still around to enjoy it.) I always find it meaningful to discover some new, tangible mark left by someone from the past.  John left money for St. James to use for the arts, and 30 years later it is still being used and enjoyed by the people of Seattle.

Speaking of lasting marks left by people of the past, I had the joy this week of visiting the Leary Mansion again, aka the HQ for the Episcopal Diocese of Olympia. It was with a group of other registrars and collections managers and we got a full tour.

No one seemed to be in that day so the archivist took us everywhere, even the Bishop's office.

I'M IN UR OFFICE CHECKING OUT UR CROZIER

But the best part was the fireplace in the bedroom of the original owner, Mrs. Leary. 

What have we here?

I thought it was sort of funny that in this pseudo-classical scene of nymphs and cherubs, this lady was wearing a 1920s bathing suit. But then the archivist explained that she was originally painted naked and that at some point someone decided she needed to be covered up. And apparently it wasn't the church people who did it! It happened before the church bought the building, so either Mrs. Leary didn't like people leering at it, or it was the Red Cross workers who used the house during WWII.

Also, this time I snapped a picture of one of those Ted Rand bishop paintings:

Ted Rand who also created images like this: 

So there it is. John Doyle Bishop sneaking into 21st century choir concerts, vintage bathings suits making appearances in pastoral fire places, and fashion illustration entwined with church portraiture. Wherever you are, fashion will find you. 

The 70s are Coming!

With the wonderful American Spirits exhibition entering its final month, the second offering of my 1920s fashion lecture coming up soon, and last weekend’s Bootlegger’s Bash, it is fair to say that MOHAI is in a Jazz Age mood.

But on Wednesday this week, all that is about to change. Take cover, because the 1970s are coming.

Ok, that is a bit of an exaggeration. There won’t be any programs or lectures or Cher impersonator performances, but there will be FASHION.

(What I would look like on Soul Train)

Remember last year when I was all excited about the opera costumes? Well, they are still up, looking amazing. But the loan period is coming to a close, and we need to put something else in that space. I had a few ideas for other loans to get but none of them worked out. Finally I was like “well, I’m always complaining about not getting enough of our own collection out...”

That case is in the section that tells the story of Seattle from the 1970s to the present. That isn't the most robust section of the artifact collection (it isn't old enough for people to think of donating items) but we still have some cool things.  So I set to work picking three looks which would represent 1970s style, be distinct from one another, look good on mannequins, and not clash horribly.  I am pretty excited about the result.

First up, in the center spot, is this pink chiffon gown and cape made for a DIVA.

Sold by John Doyle Bishop, of course.

On the left will be a hippie look. This is a mix of artifacts and props. The main artifact is the bell-bottom jeans, which were worn in Seattle 1968-1980 and modified over time with hand-sewn patches. I dressed it with two things authentic to the period, but not accessioned because they don’t have Seattle stories: A fringed leather vest someone gave me, and a peasant top my mom wore in the 70s. Hanging off the leather vest is the other artifact: an alligator clip “accessory” with strips of deerskin and beads, made by the donor of the jeans. The pinchy part is a little singed so I’ll let you draw your own conclusions about that.

When I was in grad school we were warned that it can be REALLY hard to make counterculture clothes look good on mannequins. The reason being that so much of the look is the attitude of the person inside. A Dior gown is designed to be an aesthetic experience and can still really sing on a mannequin, but a pair of ripped jeans and a T-shirt that once belonged to Kurt Cobain can look pretty lifeless on a form.  So I was particularly pleased with this dressing job, because I think it has lots of visual interest and can hold its own with the gown.

And finally: Menswear. And who better to represent the color and pattern of the 70s than my dearest John?

This is a knitted wool suit with a double-breasted jacket and leather cuffs on the pants, owned and donated by JDB himself. Because I couldn’t resist, I paired it with one of his signature scarves.  I was worried it was a little too much pattern, but then remembered that he wore one of his scarves with a plaid suit when he took Schiaparelli to the Bill Blass show in '72. (Also "too much" might not have been a thing in the 70s).

So do the hustle down to MOHAI and see them in person!

Could It Be...?

One of the projects I'm working on right now is an inventory of the shoe collection. It has been very exciting to come across items from Seattle businesses and pieces that are just downright fabulous. But this week we were presented with a little bit of a mystery.

On Friday this relatively benign pair of shoes was up next to be photoed, measured, and condition checked:

My intern, faithfully updating the record in the database stopped and commented, "So...in the description it says 'Shoes said to have been made for Julie Andrews in the 20th Century Fox Movie The Star'...what does that mean?? Did Julie Andrews wear those shoes???"

Instinctively skeptical, I brushed it off. (MOHAI also has a bloody scarf that Mrs. Lincoln apparently was wearing on the night of the assassination. I looked into it and there is a 98% chance of that claim being totally hooey).

The only thing that gave me pause was the fact that there were marks on the soles that looked like they had once been taped with masking tape. That is a short-term solution for giving shoes some traction on a smooth floor--often seen on shoes worn for fashion shows or in the theater.

Then there was a second pair with a similar claim in the description:

These also had tape marks, including on the inside. AND they looked like they may have been painted to go from red to gray. All touches consistent with quick-fixes for costuming purposes.

Then there was something else nagging me. Guess who donated the shoes?

Who else?

John Doyle Bishop, connoisseur of the fabulous and friend to the rich and famous, seems to be JUST the kind of person who would enjoy owing a pair of shoes worn by an icon.

Seems about right

The more I thought about it the more I thought it COULD BE. I mean, it's not like the record was claiming that these were Dorothy's ruby slippers. As fabulous and amazing as Julie Andrews is, Star! was not a big hit and Hollywood churns out hundreds of movies each year. Clothing pieces worn by stars in lesser-known pictures must end up somewhere. 

In total, there were actually four pairs of shoes and one hat in this donation, all claiming to be from this movie, all worn by Julie Andrews, all donated by JDB. I did some research and the costumes for Star! were done by Donald Brooks, the New York-based fashion designer who also did costumes for movies and the stage. And GUESS what Seattle store sold Donald Brooks??

This is a sketch from the Seattle Times advertising a special showing of Donald Brooks clothing at John Doyle Bishop's store in 1968- the year that Star! was released. 

I don't think that this evidence is conclusive but I think it makes the claim plausible. What do you think? Obviously the next step is to find a copy of the movie and scrutinize the footwear!

Hawks Sadness, Fur Fashion, and Pink Chiffon

Last weekend I started a post about the busy, busy week I had just had, and about how much I was enjoying the city-wide excitement about the Seahawks. It felt like Hawks joy was in the air and we were all intoxicated with it. As I was working on the post last Sunday I thought, "I should wait to finish it until after the game so I can mention the result..."

And then Sunday night I was too sad to do anything. Like the rest of Seattle, I spent the last week in reflective, silent contemplation.

Here are some of the pictures I was going to post...

*Snif*

SIGH

*SOB*

But the gloom is starting to lift and we can all return to our regularly scheduled lives. 

Two weeks ago (pre-davastating Super Bowl loss) I had two presentations in three days. Tuesday was member night at MOHAI-- an evening to get our supporters all jazzed about 2015.  I talked about the recent mannequin rotation, an upcoming program, and some fun finds in the collection. It went quite well and lots of interesting people came up afterwards to talk to me. One woman was very excited to hear about my background and where I had gotten my degree. One of her questions was if I had a speciality, a particular era perhaps or a type of clothing?

"Well!" I said enthusiastically, "I specialize in Seattle fashion history!" as I gestured to the museum around me.

And she literally gave me this look:

And the struggle continues.

To be fair, we were not standing in front of one of the costume cases I had just been talking about. As it happened, were standing in the "Idea Lab" in the Bezos Center for Innovation which I haven't spent enough time exploring. While I was waiting to talk, I noticed this fantastic idea proposed by a young visitor:

If you can't read it, it is an idea for a machine called "The Dream Cake Maker." The steps are as follows:
1) Draw picture of dream cake
2) Put in slot
3) Out comes dream cake

If this isn't proof that museums are inspiring places, I don't know what is.

On Thursday I gave a talk about fur and fashion at the Henry Art Gallery. It went well, and most importantly, no one showed up to throw red paint on me. I wasn't advocating for fur, but I wasn't trashing it either. Like most fashion topics, I think fur is really complicated, and you do a disservice when you boil it down to a single story. (I don't own any fur, but I actually got some offers from people to wear their family furs at the talk.  I politely explained that when giving lectures I usually do some hardcore sweating, so being swathed in fur seemed like poor choice. I settled for my beetle wing earrings instead.)

The week post-Seahawks loss was pretty quiet but also very productive. I resolved a really complex FIC and tried to catch up on some new accessions--which meant basking in the glory of this mega fabulous gown:

(Ignore the seams on the mannequin torso.
I didn't have time to "fully" dress this for the photo)

It was designed by Kiki Hart (a New York designer) and sold by John Doyle Bishop.

Over this past year I realized that I need to pull back a little and not accept every single JDB dress that gets offered. Even if someday I do an entire exhibit about him and his shop, we already have too many artifacts to display.  Before the donor sent me a picture I was about to say no, but then I saw it and was like...

It also has a matching pink chiffon cape!

Portlandia: The Full Story

As explained earlier by a gif about pickling, I was in Portland last weekend. I was there to attend the Costume Society of America Western Region symposium. It was me and 37 other West Coast ladies who have made a career (or at least a serious hobby) out of being really into clothes.

The symposium theme was all about street style and subcultural influences on contemporary fashion and so I put together a presentation about GLBTQ clothing as represented in the MOHAI collection.  I was actually kind of cheating because while "queer style" was one of the suggested topics, I used the opportunity to talk about John Doyle Bishop and John Eaton who were decidedly not "subcultural" or "outsider" when it came to their fashion sense. (But, you know, that is sort of the point--there is no single GLBTQ story or style). I also I talked about new things we acquired when we did a "collecting initiative" during the run of the Revealing Queer exhibition, major gaps in the collection (most of what we have is from white, relatively affluent gay men-- so LOTS of people still unrepresented), and some basic cautions about stereotyping and tokenizing people. It was well received, although it felt weird when a couple people emphatically told me that I was SO BRAVE to tackle the subject. Um...I guess? Very kind of them to say, but in the grand scheme of brave acts committed in the name of inclusion, this probably isn't one for the history books.

Anyway, the true act of bravery that weekend was booking a room in the most hipstery of hipster hotels in downtown Portland. The thing about cilantro conditioner was not a joke. My room came with "original art" and a "curated mini-bar." Breakfast literally included an assortment of pickled things, along with artisanal cheeses, cured meets, and local honey.

My actual room was pretty minimal on the "original art" front. Or was the whole thing art? Is my whole life a performance?!?!? WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!?!?!

On Sunday I went on an excursion to the Maryhill Museum which is weird/amazing place on the Washington side of the Columbia river, about two hours outside of Portland. Why weird/amazing? Well, to start with it is in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by some serious scenery. Here are two views I took from the balcony of the museum cafe:

YUP

NO JOKE

Inside is an odd but interesting mix of art and history objects: including a collection of Rodins, oil paintings, Native American artifacts from across the US, a collection of chess sets, and a whole bunch of stuff that belonged to Marie, Queen of Romania. But for us fashion geeks, going to Maryhill is all about making a pilgrimage to the Théâtre de la Mode. 

Paying my respects to this sacred couture space

(If you don't know the Théâtre de la Mode story, google it or click the link above. I can't do full justice to it here)

I distinctly remember visiting Maryhill on a family trip when I was a kid. I was engrossed by the fashion dolls and bought some postcards which I poured over for the next few weeks. Clearly, it was an early hint as to where my life interests were headed. 

This time around I felt inspired to take selfies of me and the dolls.

Attempting to get a picture with the frothy aqua Lucian Lelong dress

(likely designed by Christian Dior)

GIMME THAT CHECKED DRESS

I can only conclude, once again, that the Pacific Northwest is a remarkable, wonderful place. 

Abducted by the Internet

This week I did something that was potentially a big mistake. I was doing research about some hats in our collection and so did a google search of the designer's name.  I found that there was a Pinterest page of their work but I couldn't see the whole thing unless I signed up.

So I signed up for Pinterest!

For those of you who don't know, Pinterest is basically a digital bulletin board. You can pin things you are interested in from around the internet. Some people use it for recipes, or how-to guides, but a lot of it is just creating a group of images that one finds appealing. I avoided it until now because I was worried I would love it and it would turn into a giant time suck.

Turns out, I was right!

As soon as I joined I knew I was about to watch my life drain away.  Right off the bat there was a page where I was supposed to select topics that I was interested in. They included big, general interest categories like "History," "Food," "Inspirational Quotes," and "Tom Hiddleston."

Seriously. Tom Hiddleston was up there in popularity with "Food" and all genres of history.   

I resisted the temptation to make a board of attractive British men, and instead started with images from my new Seattle fashion obsession-- illustrations by Ted Rand

Who? Me?

...and a MOHAI favorites board and general Seattle fashion one...

Fabulousness for Days

...and one for John Doyle Bishop

DUH

I think what appeals to me about it is that it is a very visual way to answer haters who say things like "Is there any fashion in Seattle?" or "Wasn't everyone just wearing plaid shirts and rain boots until [insert name of non-local store] came to town?". Now, instead of convulsing with rage I can instead say cheerfully "Oh! You should follow me on Pinterest!"

So come join me on Pinterest and we can watch our lives melt away together!

http://www.pinterest.com/johndoylebishop/

Accessories Change Everything

Right now I'm knee-deep in mannequin dressing, which can be one of the most anxiety-inducing parts of my job but also one of the most satisfying. Getting the shape of a garment just right can take a maddening amount of fussy adjustments (the whenyouworkatamusuem blog nailed it with this post). But when you do get it right, the feeling can be euphoric.

I went through the full emotional roller-coaster this week with the 1950s mannequin. For various reasons, she is one of two that can't be pre-dressed and has to be dealt with on-site. I picked one of my favorite suits in the collection-- grey wool with a tightly tailored shape and a beautiful drape of fabric in the back, sold at John Doyle Bishop's, of course. But as my volunteers and I tried to dress it we ran into two major issues.

For one, we just couldn't seem to get the fit right, and she just kept looking top-heavy and lumpy. Second, the suit is dark grey and the accessories I had on the mannequin are all black. Factor in our mannequins' perpetual case of bitchy resting face, and the result was a very sad and dour looking woman.

The label behind her is all about the change in women's roles after WWII, with the headline "After The War Women Ditch Their Overalls…" and this outfit made it look like the end of the sentence was "…FOR WIDOWS WEEDS." 

The first day I worked on her I ran out of time and didn't have any extra accessories, so I had to leave her in distress for a couple of days. 

In the meantime I did a little vintage shopping and raided the fabrics and props in my mannequin supply stash. When the time came, it was clear the right choice was to channel fake Diana Vreeland in Funny Face and...

THINK

PINK

After a little padding adjustment and some strategically placed accessories, this was the much-improved result: 

So much better, right? I brought LIGHT and LIFE back into this inanimate woman's life!! I hope John would approve…although he probably would have suggested an actual pink blouse rather than a cut-up pillowcase stuffed around the neck. 

The Fashion Historian's Guide to Seattle

I've been meaning to do this one for a while, and was re-inspired this week when a grad school classmate of mine was in town. If you are a fashion historian (either visiting or local) what are best spots to visit in Seattle?

Obviously I could do a miles-long list of "on this site was ____" or "the offices for this company are at____" but I limited it to things that are open to the public and actually have something that you can go in and see.

So put on your walking shoes and suit up in your best outfit, we are going on a Seattle Fashion History Tour!

The Museum of History and Industry - 860 Terry Ave N 

www.mohai.org

Duh. Of course you have to visit my museum. If you don't know already, MOHAI tells the story of Seattle and the Puget Sound region. There are about ten dressed mannequins on display in the core exhibit True Northwest: The Seattle Journey, as well as lots of interesting smaller things in cases. The actual selections get rotated every six months, but the core themes remain the same. Some highlights include:

- An 1850s-60s dress representing something that could have been worn by an early pioneer
- A late 1880s bustle dress in the faux shop window for local department store Toklas & Singerman.
- A 1920s couple (guy in a tux, lady in an evening dress) in the section about Prohibition
- A 1950s outfit in the section about postwar changes, usually something known to have been purchased from a Seattle business
- A face-off of World's Fair outfits- something suitable for the 1909 Alaska Yukon Pacific Exposition across from a modernist "Century 21" look from the future-focused 1962 fair.

The photo above is of a Luly Yang couture gown with the Rainier R neon sign reflected in the case. The dress is on display until early August, but don't worry-- I have have something else jaw-dropping to go in its spot.

Nordstrom / Frederick & Nelson - 500 Pine Street

Nordstrom History on Historylink

Frederick & Nelson History on Historylink 

Frederick & Nelson c. 1918. MOHAI Photo Collection

Nordstrom is a fabulous and fashionable Seattle institution. With cash in his pocket from the Klondike Gold Rush, John Nordstrom set up a shoe store in 1901. In 1963 the Nordstrom family bought Best's Apparel and started selling clothes too. By 1985 it was the largest specialty store chain in the country, surpassing previous title-holder Saks Fifth Avenue. The flagship store in downtown Seattle is lovely and inviting. And make sure to visit the fourth floor (just before you cross over the skybridge to Pacific Place) there are usually a few historic shoes on display from the archives.

The building itself is historic, and Nordstrom is a relatively new tenant. When I grew up, Nordstrom was in a hodgepodge of connected buildings on the opposite corner.  This grand retail temple used to be home to Frederick & Nelson, a beloved department store founded in 1891. I like to say that the building at 500 Pine has been responsible for changing and revitalizing the downtown retail core three times. When Donald Frederick decided to build the building, people called it "Frederick's Folly" because it was so far uptown from 2nd Ave, which was the hub of the retail core at the time. But when it opened in 1918 it was a big success, and other retailers soon moved to be nearby. In the early 50s the building underwent a major renovation which included adding several floors. This set off a chain reaction of other renovations and expansions of the downtown stores. Frederick & Nelson went bankrupt in 1992 and Nordstrom moved in in 1998, sparking revitalization in the area once again.

The Bon Marché - 1601 3rd Avenue 

The Bon Marché on Historylink

Photo from Patricksmercy on flickr 

This building is now a Macy's, but every good Seattleite slips up now and then and calls it "The Bon." Founded in 1890 by Josephine and Edward Nordhoff, and named for the famous French department store, The Bon Marché was a major retail player in Seattle for over 100 years. This gigantic art-deco flagship store was built in 1928. There are still a few touches that will take you back in time: the elegant woodwork around the elevators on the first floor, the faded elegance of the ladies restroom on the second floor, and the bronze artwork "The Spirit of Northwest Industry" which is on either side of the escalators between the basement and the first floor. The piece was made in 2000, but the top eight panels (Fisheries, World Trade, Aviation, Mining, Forestry, Manufacturing, Agriculture, Construction) are reconstructions of bronze panels made in 1929. The artist then added two new panels: Retail and Technology. The "Retail" panel, of course, shows The Bon Marché and has a profile of Josephine Nordhoff. 

If you read the article on Historylink, you'll find out why Josephine gets top billing over her husband Edward. #InspiringLadies

Ruth Hill - 411 University St

Located inside the Fairmont Olympic Hotel

Photo courtesy of Ruth Hill

In 1910 a woman named Helen Igoe opened a speciality fashion shop unlike anything else in Seattle. Her taste was exquisite and she carried clothing from the top houses in Europe and New York. In 1950 she retired and sold her business to John Doyle Bishop. He then also became one of the most respected, beloved, and successful retailers in the city. After his death in 1980 the shop struggled and relocated to the historic Olympic hotel. When it was on the verge of bankruptcy a woman named Ruth Hill took over the business and brought it back to life. She renamed it after herself in 1990 (because important things can only happen in years ending in zero, apparently). Ruth and her husband David are wonderful, and what is astonishing about this shop is that even though the styles have changed, there is a lot about the business which would be familiar to Helen and John. Ruth still goes on buying trips to select stock for the store, and has built personal relationships with the vendors and family businesses she buys from. One of the chandeliers from John Doyle Bishop's original store is still in use--you can see it in the picture above.

Luly Yang Couture - 1218 4th Ave

LulyYang.com

photo from LulyYang.com

Luly has only been in business since 2000, but she is the real deal. The word "Couture" gets thrown around a lot these days (or in the case of recently defunct crap fashion company Juicy Couture, thrown in the garbage) and people have forgotten what it means. But I have been to the workroom downstairs and seen with my own eyes the place where a master seamstress and her team carefully construct exquisite garments. There are even mannequins padded up to the size of devoted, repeat customers--just like in 1950s photos of couture houses in Paris. You can't tour the workroom for a regular visit, but you can go in the shop and look around. The staff is incredibly nice. There are also lots of gorgeous gowns to see in the windows.

Filson - 1555 4th Avenue South

www.filson.com/filson/our-company/

Photo from Filson.com

Speaking of the real deal: Filson. Filson started up during the Klondike Gold Rush by supplying rugged outdoor gear to Alaska-bound miners. Then they were known for outfitting loggers. Their stuff is still exceptionally well-made, and almost all of it still sewn right here in Seattle. Everything they make is available at their flagship store, and many of the styles are historic designs which have been unchanged since the early 20th century. I'm told they do factory tours (just a few blocks away from the flagship store) by appointment. I haven't done it yet, so I can't guarantee how it works. But try calling the main Seattle store or using the "contact us" box on the website. Worth a try!

EMP Museum - 325 5th Ave N

www.EMPmuseum.org

EMP is sometimes a bit of a punchline.  Along with "carry umbrellas" and "go up the Space Needle" it often shows up on lists of "things real Seattleites don't do." It was conceived as a Jimi Hendrix oriented, high-tech rock n' roll museum, and is housed in a weird blob of a Frank Gehry building. Currently its focus has broadened (EMP originally stood for "Experience Music Project") and the new tagline is "Music + Sci-Fi + Pop Culture." So, it is kind of a weird place with some identity issues. But the thing that everyone forgets is that it is actually full of cool stuff.  Last time I went, there were costumes from Game of Thrones and The Princess Bride, the sweater Kurt Cobain wore in the video for Smells Like Teen Spirit, Macklemore's fur coat from the Thrift Shop video, and some jaw-droppingly fab Jimi Hendrix outfits that were made for him in London (see photo above). We are talking bespoke-quality stuff with 60s Peacock Revolution style, and worn by Jimi Freaking Hendrix. That is some hardcore fashion history provenance right there folks.

The Henry Art Gallery - 15th Ave NE & 41st St

www.HenryArt.org

Schiaparelli Sweater, henryart.org

Ok, this one takes a bit more work on your part, and is really for the serious historians who are knee-deep in some cool research project. The Henry houses a collection of costumes and textiles collected by various University of Washington departments. The museum specializes in contemporary art, and so the fashion collection is rarely on display.  But they do have a study center and with a little advance planning you can make an appointment and see something cool.

Start by searching their online database and find something you want to see. Then, go here and read up on their polices and their hours. Once you are ready to commit, use the contact info on that page to request an appointment.


Ok, now get out there and see the historical fashion sights of Seattle! And let me know if you find a destination you think I should add to the list.