Carrie-d Away

 In other news, two ingenues are playing characters named "Carrie" in upcoming films: Anna Sophia Robb will play Carrie fille in the Sex and the City prequel, The Carrie Diaries, and Chloe Grace Moretz will play Carrie White in the remake of Stephen King's high-school horror film Carrie.
   
I remember reading the novel Carrie, probably in the mid-to-late 1970s, not too long after it was published.  More than a horror story, it was a poignant coming-of-age story about a sensitive teenage girl that took horrific turns because of her fanatic mother as well as cruelty from her peers.

With the advent of these two films, I was thinking about which Carrie I'd be rooting for, the one who grows up to (ahem) carry designer bags (see the Vuitton/Sprouse homage in the top photo) or the one who is thrilled to go to the prom with the handsome boy (who is actually kind as well).

Actually, it's no question. So I'll just wonder here out loud whether audience members will be able to identify with either title character, or whether either of these forthcoming films will venture into Carrie-ca-ture.

Wedding Jackets

Twenty-one years ago this evening I married Mr. C. 

It was the simplest of weddings at the stone chapel of the university where we were both working on our PhDs--no flowers, no attendants, no guest list--just as I wanted.

And definitely no proper wedding dress.  That just isn't me (I didn't even look for a bridal shop), though I did want a new dress. 

The one I loved, which was also the only one I liked, was a navy Chanel dress with a fitted bodice, Norma Kamali-style retro-wide straps via Paris chic, double-breasted gold CC buttons and a short pouf skirt.

It was not unlike the dress on the left (weeps):

It was bloody awesome, but as I had neither plastic nor parents, nor any possibility of raising the funds as a graduate student away from her home country, the dress remained on the rail.  And I redirected my shopping focus into my closet.

For my wedding I wore a black fitted chauffeur's jacket by WilliWear, designed by Willi Smith, black stockings, and black heels.  I must have bought it, in Canada, during Fall 1986. 

This is Willi:

Here's an excerpt from a review of that collection in the Pittsburgh Press, by Mariann Caprino.

It was called Totally Serious, and I must have been too, twenty-one years ago, with a healthy dose of humour on the side, because here we are.  And the jacket is still in my closet too.

Office Decor: Paper Dolls

Part of the fun of having a new office is decorating it. 

This space of mine has books of course--four ceiling-to-floor stuffed cases, to be exact--but it is also characterized by textiles.  I have my Amish-via-New York quilt that I made (classic Amish diamond pattern using fabric I bought in the City); my William Morris-esque wallpapered pole, my Chanel-inspired paper flowers headpiece, Liberty fabric stretched over a good number of wooden embroidery hoops cascading down one wall, and now my Anna Sui paper dolls climbing the wall alongside my door. 

I'm teaching a fashion theory class this year and am delighted to let my office reflect my love of fabric and line.

Now to make something for my window.

Carven a Turkey

Monday is Canadian Thanksgiving, and as I am living in the United States, I won't be celebrating till November (though I do plan to wear my red jeans to class).

Still, I couldn't help but indulge in a little holiday wordplay when I saw this beautiful dress by Carven in the New York Times.

See the basting on that bird?

I absolutely adore watching a dress, a headpiece, a pair of shoes take shape, from sketch to finished version.  Sometimes the moments just before the piece is complete can be scary and details to be added can be seemingly random (see Marc Jacobs and Louis Vuitton, the film), but the process, even when ostensibly fly-by-night, is fascinating.

These photos illustrate the Carven dress, with what I'm calling its Voysey-esque cut-out on the bodice, as it takes form.

It begins in light muslin, then moves to a darker tulle.

And in the spirit of Carven up a Thanksgiving turkey, I can only ask, regarding the dress:

Would you like white or dark?