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[August 19, 1964] Seasonal Musings: Fall/Winter 1964


by Gwyn Conaway

It’s August! Despite the summer heat, I always look forward to this time of year. Why, you ask? Because I can look forward to the fashions of another Fall/Winter season!

And what a majestic season it will be for coats, dresses, and evening gowns. We’ll look at some of these beautiful details from major fashion houses here and in Europe, as well as how well they support my predictions of the last season through revolutionary past ages.


The Sears Catalog is my go-to resources for seeing fashion on the streets. This amazing resource gives great insight to what will be available in stores, not just on the runway. It seems like woolens and corderoy will be major players this season! Fall Fashions, Sears Catalog, 1964

With a new school year just around the bend, and women looking excitedly for the changing of the leaves, it’s no wonder our catalogs and department stores have started showing off their interpretations of this year’s Fall/Winter runways. Above we can see a fantastic palette of mulberry, teal, cobalt blue, and russet brown, perfect for ushering in the new season.

In addition, there’s an overarching theme of funnel collars and square, modest busts. The neckline is kept away from the base of the neck, allowing the column of the throat to look longer and slimmer. This is perfectly in line with the proclivities of a revolutionary period, where the rules of fashion are changing drastically. Rather than pull attention to the bust and waist, fashion is now more interested in wrists and ankles and necks. Fascinating!


Of course, this trend is following the works of major designers. Here is a pattern from this year of Jeanne Lanvin’s hooded silk cocktail dress and pink coat made from wool coating. The collar here is exaggerated, leaving room for the hood of the dress to frame the face and neck. Allowing the neck and face to rise from a thicker collar or ballooning shape creates the iconic cocoon style of our time.

The evening gowns walking the runways for this winter are scrumptious as well. Let’s take a look at what’s in store for us this year, and how it’s evolved from the previous season. When I compared the two, my excitement became palpable!


The evening fashion of 1963 compared to the Neoclassical era in my previous fall article:
Scrying the Future by Looking Back


Balenciaga Fall/Winter 1964

Last year, we started showing the signs of a neoclassical era with soft solid-color skirts, waistlines on the lower ribs, and square torsos with abstract natural motifs. This year, the trend continues, but with ever more fervor. Note above that Balenciaga has dived head first into this renaissance. The designer’s evening gowns this year sport flat bows and voluminous satin skirts that extend from the bust. These styles allow for the neck and arm to garner all the attention rather than the more traditional bust and waist.


Designers from left to right: Hannah Troy, Yves Saint Laurent, Anne Fogarty, 1964.

Many other designers are also exploring the redefinition of beauty in similar ways. Hannah Troy’s Schiaparelli pink evening gown is an uncanny likeness to the round gowns of the 1810s. Yves Saint Laurent and Anne Fogarty follow a similar train of thought with their cocktail dresses, both of which sport overbust satin bows, forcing our eye to lengthen the leg and dramatically shorten the torso.

The funnel collar and thick woolens, the hidden waists and exposed arms; all of it is bound to leave a lasting impression on the decade. In particular, I’m excited to see the overbust move into mainstream catalogs and department stores in the coming months. Such a fresh and energetic new symbol of the changing times! It is sure to ignite inspiration for fashion in the months to come.


[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge!  Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




[April 30, 1964] Mary Mary Quite Contrary: Mary Quant and the Modern Woman


by Gwyn Conaway

One of the brightest fashion minds of our time has been hiding under our very noses. Though she isn’t an atelier in Paris, she has pulled the rug right out from under our feet. André Courrèges, whom I spoke about in my last article, is often attributed with inventing the miniskirt, but it’s Mary Quant who holds more claim over its popularity and invention. From her store in London to her fresh polka dots, let’s look at how Mary Quant is propelling fashion forward in a fresh way.


Mary Quant in her studio, developing her ideas for the early 1960s. On the right, see her wearing her fully-realized mini skirt fashion herself. Her post, activity, and sharp demure perfectly sum up the powerful woman behind this bold trend.

Bazaar, Quant’s boutique on the corner of Brompton and King’s Road in London, opened its doors in 1955. The store has since become a hallmark of the neighborhood. After the dreary reconstruction of London, middle-class women yearned for bold palettes and fast-paced silhouettes. While these fashions could be seen in films and magazines and the runways of Paris and New York, Bazaar offered this to the masses.

Quant started pushing the boundaries of skirt hems in the fifties, shortly after Bazaar opened. She wanted to create a fashion that allowed women to chase after the bus, when necessary. A truly modern woman, she exploited utility to create iconic looks that felt hip and powerful.


Quant considering her design choices this year, 1964.

And she hasn’t let up as 1964 comes to pass. Just last year, her design was named the first Dress of the Year by the Fashion Museum, Bath, which promises to be a long-standing tradition. The ensemble in question is a grey wool ‘Rex Harrison’ cardigan dress with a cream blouse, the bow collar hanging almost as long as the hem above the knee. This expert balance of professional and whimsical, classic sentiments being redefined by a younger, bolder generation, are the hallmarks of a Mary Quant design.

Unlike the mod trends of André Courrèges, Mary Quant puts modern women at the forefront of every decision. Her garments are fashionable, yet comfortable. They’re utilitarian, for a girl on the go, rain or shine, while encouraging individuality in a way that Courrèges does not. While his fashions are technologically utopian in theme, lifting up the Space Age and Futurism, Quant’s designs are made to let city women live a powerful dream. 

Graphic yet delicate silks paired with classic, nubby wools are a favorite contrast for Quant. Her stripes and polka dots speak of timeless femininity while wrapped in the sturdy embrace of tweed and loden. Even her PVC raincoats, as seen above, carry that delicate balance between powerful and whimsical. Note the peter pan collar, a staple of girls’ fashion in the 1950s, now becoming a symbol of a rising, intellectually-driven beauty industry made by women, for women.


Not only do her fashions bring us forward, but they also pay homage to the groundbreaking efforts of Coco Chanel, and the leaps women took to join the modern age in the 1920s. Note the dropped double-welt pockets, hanging parallel to the skirt hem, and the self-fabric belt draped across the hips.

Yes, Mary Quant’s reach has extended far beyond fashion, into the mentality of Londoners and fashion enthusiasts across the world. No longer does fashion belong only to the ateliers in Paris, or Savile Row. Perhaps the second half of the twentieth century will be shaped by the masses rather than social elitism. What a fantastic thought! Whether the name Mary Quant is on the tip of everyone's tongue in fifty years makes no difference. Her impact is resounding, and will guide beauty for our generation, and those to come.


[Come join us at Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge!  Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]




[January 20, 1964] André Courrèges: Moon Parties


by Gwyn Conaway

The Space Age has seized the public consciousness, influencing design in everything from architecture to cereal. Fashion is no exception, and one fellow has made it his mission to ensure that tomorrow's fashion will be out of this world.

André Courrèges, a French fashion designer with a young atelier in Paris, is rising quickly in the fashion world. Though he worked for ten years as an assistant to Cristóbal Balenciaga, his own fashion house opened only recently, in 1961.

Since his coming out, he has made considerable waves. Mark my words, 1964 will be a big year for this fresh designer. Let’s take a look at what his house has accomplished, and what his Spring 1964 collection will bring to the proverbial table. But before we jump into his plans for this year, let’s take a look at his philosophy.


Courrèges has become known for his flat, mid-calf-length moon boots and bubble hats. Note that the hats here are not made of soft felt, as we’d expect, but smooth, semi-gloss leather. This material choice makes the style feel more like a helmet.

It’s no surprise that Courrèges began his schooling as an engineering student. Many of his designs focus specifically on mobility for the modern woman. “You do not walk through life anymore. You run. You dance. You drive a car. You take a plane, not a train. Clothes must be able to move too.” He pays particular attention to the knees, usually leaving them bare in his designs to express this sentiment. He also minimizes the bust, ignores the waist, and lengthens the neck, as if to highlight adolescent curiosity rather than womanly charm. Note his iconic flat-soled leather boots as well – perfect for running.


Spring, 1964

In 1963, Courrèges shocked the world with his perspective on young, athletic, mobile women. He recently stated, “My problem is not rich embroidery, useless lavishness. It is to harmoniously resolve functional problems, just like the engineer who designs a plane.” With these principles in mind, he introduced the trapezoid shift and slim-legged trouser suit to mainstream ready-to-wear, thereby liberating women from the restrictive nylons, heels, and merry widows of the previous era.

So what are the designer’s big plans for 1964? A little birdie has told me that he is no longer looking to the engineers that design planes, but to the engineers that design rockets. That’s right! Courrèges has his sights set on the moon.


Moon Girl Collection, André Courrèges, Spring 1964: Moon Girls are ready for adventure and the dawning of a new age. Note the lack of nylons, heels, and excess fabric. This collection is aimed at women a la carte, and embraces our technological future.

In fact, his Spring collection is titled the Moon Girl Collection. This upcoming line is sure to shake the foundations of fashion with its shiny white palette, geometric cuts, and iconic white moon boots. Even the lace trouser suits he has debuted this spring are orderly, flat, and made of stiff wool to keep that geometric silhouette. In addition to wool lace, triple gabardine and PVC are Courrèges’ secret weapons this year. When in motion, these textiles maintain their industrial, geometric silhouette, reinforcing the the designer’s “uniform”. Even fashion photography seems to have changed, preferring weightless, jumping, twisting women. With stiff silhouettes and wry bodies, it’s almost as if Courrèges models are floating in space.


Boxy coats with uniform double-breasted buttons and slim trousers are a defining ensemble this spring, as is the designer’s signature wool daisy lace.

Thanks to Courrèges, we’ve seen a transformation from whimsical quaintness to industrious sophistication, where function and beauty are considered in equal measure. This major shift has happened almost entirely within the past year. Now Coco Chanel’s landmark little black dress is replaced with the white trapezoid shift. Stunning! If Courrèges has set the pace for this decade, what do you suppose is waiting for us come next spring?




(Gwyn's work is just one of the many efforts we're proud of here, at the Journey.  Come see why the Journey is a Hugo-worthy endeavor!)

[November 23, 1963 cont.] After a fashion


by Gwyn Conaway

I'm hungry for answers, but more than anything, simply heartbroken. We will forever relive this day through Jackie Kennedy's watermelon pink Chanel suit. Make no mistake, our First Lady's ensemble will live forever. Rather than being the symbol of strength, compassion, and grace, as both Coco Chanel and Jackie Kennedy would have wanted, the suit has been transformed into a symbol of tragedy and death.

I am heartbroken, not because it is a beautiful piece of fashion tarnished by the fall of a great man. I am heartbroken because we will all experience today over and over in the decades to come. Fashion will lash out and redefine the watermelon pink suit as a symbol of the crumbling American Dream. Its visage will become sour, like rotten fruit, as our nation's loss fades away. More than that, I mourn for Jackie Kennedy, who will stand by as her suit is redefined in the years to come and see the ghosts of today rise anew. 




[October 16, 1963] A Look at Fall Fashion; Scrying the Future by Looking Back


by Gwyn Conaway

Jackets, Dresses, and Tights, oh my! Fall is here! In stores, in our homes, and in the chilly air! For fashion, though, the autumnal breeze has been calling our names since the runways of the late summer. And as far as fashion designers are concerned, red and orange foliage isn’t the only thing stirring our favorite season this year.

As major designers have released their latest trends, a chord has rung out across each and every fresh idea, one that fashion historians will pick up on immediately. Let’s take a look at what fashion designers are scrying in their crystal balls.


Biba is a rising star in London Fashion. Note that its illustrations harken back to the glory days of Art Deco. Gossip says they’ll be opening up a physical boutique soon, at 87 Abingdon Road.

Youth power is taking over fashion. The Beatles debut LP has rocketed them to the top of the charts, causing the frenzy we now call Beatlemania. Barbara Hulanicki and Stephen Fitz-Simon have also jumped on the bandwagon with their new mail-order service Biba, spreading London fashion worldwide. Last but certainly not least, the Beat Generation, although originally a literary movement in New York in the early 1950s, has grown ever more mainstream. All of these trends follow a pattern of cultural and aesthetic non-conformity we’ve seen time and time again in fashion history.

For fashion, paying homage to the past is not unusual. The style of bygone eras is imbued with more and more mystic power the longer time marches on. Fashion, much like music and writing, becomes nostalgic in a way that inspires future artists to be daring in their own time. Being inspired by the past can, ironically, push us forward into a new era.

Two recent fashion periods come to mind when considering youth revolutions. The Neoclassical–the era of Pride and Prejudice–spanning the early 19th century, and the rip roaring Twenties. To my glee, what do you suppose I found inspiring fall fashion this year?

Bing bing bing! If I didn’t point out that Coco Chanel designed the above Little Black Dress (middle) in 1927, most people would assume that it was contemporary style when in actuality, it transformed women’s lives more than three decades ago. No longer did women have to go home to change in between activities. With the LBD, one could jet from work to play and live a more mobile life.

When compared to Peggy Moffitt wearing Rudi Gernreich (right) or Pierre Cardin (left), the inspiration is shockingly clear. Note the low waist on both contemporary styles, with high necklines, flat chests, and columnar silhouette. Both designers have also looked to the details: While Gernreich draws from the LBD’s wide waistband, Cardin chose the pleated skirt.

Coco Chanel’s LBD isn’t the only Prohibition Era inspiration this year. Flappers, the ushers of rebellion and sexual awakening during the 1920s, are also in style, and they’ve moved from the tantalizing underground of dance halls and cocktails to modern day evening wear. Note above that the dress designed by Louise Boulanger in 1928 (left) has inspired the ombre feathered skirt, high round neckline, and low waist of James Galanos’ evening dress this year (right).


This model wearing Marimekko clearly looks back into a gallery of Neoclassical early-mid 18th century statues and paintings, symbolising our return to youth power and abandonment of traditionalism in fashion. Scalloped edges such as the color blocking on her dress, were dominant elements of design in both the Neoclassical and Art Deco movements as well.

The Neoclassical Era also plays a role in our fashion this fall. High necklines, short jackets with long, light-toned skirts, and simple bows are all reminiscent of the early 1800s. This comes at no surprise, considering Europe was celebrating the downfall of the French monarchy. After the Ancien Regime was booted from Versailles, a working class renaissance took hold of France’s youth. Women let go their corsets and hoops, just as our young people today have forgotten the merry widows and petticoats of the voluminous 1950s.

More traditional designers such as Christian Dior have taken up the Neoclassical for nuanced inspiration this year. Take above, for example, the Soiree a Venise Dress (left) and a pink evening gown (right), both from the House of Dior’s F/W 1963 collection. Note that both gowns have a high waistline and self-made bows (meaning the textile is used both for the body of the garment and the details). The skirt shape is stiff and while the pink ensemble’s bodice is covered in jewels, patterns and textiles are otherwise not mixed. The Neoclassical style is similar (middle), with self-made trims and bows, a stiff conical skirt, and high waistline.  

One final morsel in regards to the Neoclassical influence we see this year is this: it seems to me that we’re wearing our inspiration backwards. Note that this winter’s evening dresses hug the back of the body while the front explodes forward (right). In the early 1800s, our silhouette was exactly the opposite (left). Does this perhaps symbolize a move toward revolution while the Neoclassical represented the world after revolution? Whether or not this is the case, this short-lived phenomenon is compelling nonetheless.

As ever, fashion this fall is a fortune teller that looks back at history to comment on today. Designers sense the rise of youth power, and eagerly look forward to the clash of generations to come. I must admit that I look forward to it too. What a wild ride awaits us!




[July 28, 1963] Africa: From End to End A Beautiful Garden; A Swan Dive into Vogue’s New Grand Tour

[P.S.  Did you take our super short survey yet?  There could be free beer/coffee in it for you!]


by Gwyn Conaway


Seydou Keïta, a Malian photographer, is known for his portraiture, particularly of women that simultaneously become a part of their environment and assume command of it.

The newest Vogue offers a refreshing departure from the traditional venues of Paris, London, and New York.  Its pages have let me peek into the lives of people in places I’d never thought much about. For this summer’s Vogue embarks on a grand tour of Africa. It offers glimpses of Nigeria and Uganda, worlds wholly different from and beyond our own.  Much like when Alice follows the White Rabbit to Wonderland, I’ve found myself both in awe of this new adventure and questioning my place within it.

The words of Mary Roblee Henry struck a lasting chord with me when she wrote “Africa, in fact, has everything – except a frame of reference.” As of fifty years ago, the African continent, with the exception of the Empire of Ethiopia, was entirely colonized by Europe. As a result, our American eyes have always seen Africa as an extension of our own desire for adventure, not a continent with its own rich point of view.


Marchesa Sieuwke Bisleti on her farm Marula in the Kenyan highlands with two leopard cubs. She wears a grass green linen Serengeti shirt, khaki slacks, and earthy brown leather boots.

In addition to touring Nigeria and Uganda, this issue of Vogue documents the daily life of Marchesa Sieuwke Bisleti in Kenya, where she cares for many exotic animals on her farm, Marula. Western women in their 30s crave her practical elegance. She embodies the windswept beauty of a woman who has seen adventure and now lives comfortably within that frame of mind.

As romantic as this notion is, our sense of adventure may be a double-edged sword. On one hand, wearing bush jackets, Gurkha shorts, and khaki freesuits gives us a taste of discovering those distant, ancient, untouched places. On the other hand, it revives imperialist sentiments just as the continent Churchill once called “from end to end one beautiful garden” gains its independence.


Above: Abubakar Tafawa Balewa on leave with his children on his farm in northern Nigeria. Below: Finance Minister Okotie-Eboh and his wife, both wearing Iro skirts. Okotie-Eboh was also an Itsekiri chief near the Benin River.

After devouring every page of Vogue, I turned to current events. I needed more than Western fantasies to quench my curiosity. Luckily, Queen Elizabeth II has been busy on the continent, working closely with the soon-to-be Federal Republic of Nigeria to recall the British protectorate.

I was struck by the big personalities of Prime Minister Abubakar Tafawa Balewa and Finance Minister Festus Okotie-Eboh. How had I never paid attention to Nigerian politics before! Although, in the picture above, Tafawa Balewa is sitting in a casual setting, far from the pomp and circumstance of the capitol, he still exudes authority, as if he belongs to the country as much as it belongs to him. Perhaps the simple, large, billowing shapes of his agbada emphasize his assumption of power.

Okotie-Eboh, however, truly uses Nigerian fashion and tradition to make a grand statement. He and his wife in the image above are breathtaking, adorned in many yards of traditional Nigerian textiles, peacock feathers, and coral beads. While part of me is giddy for Okotie-Eboh’s bold choices, I’m also concerned for the burgeoning republic’s image. Do his people see the grandeur as a statement of pride, or do they see indulgence and excess? This is a question I have no answer to for the moment, but leaves me feeling uneasy for the future.


Nigerian women standing for a portrait. Note that the woman in the center is wearing an English dress suit while the ladies on either side are wearing the traditional iro (skirt), buba (shirt), and gele (headwrap)

Beyond Nigeria’s politicians, her people possess a breathtaking strength of character. More so than in any fashion line or runway show, Nigerians’ personal power and charisma is interwoven into their textiles and fashion. In the clamour to define the modern Nigerian identity, traditional and European aesthetics are caught in a fiery dance for domination. 

The younger generation in particular is visually torn between their new independence and the allure of western style. Men here combined sports jackets of the finest linens and tweeds with their white or brightly colored, airy agbadas and Oxford brogues. Girls wear western polka dotted blouses with their iros and beaded jewelry.



Photography by J.D. ‘Okhai Ojeikere

Photographers like J.D. ‘Okhai Ojeikere and Seydou Keïta explore this in their portraiture. One moment, Ojeikere will photograph wealthy Nigerians dressed head-to-toe as fashionable young British women, donning pumps, sundresses, and pearl earrings. The next, he’ll snap a photo of two men leaning against an enviable Rambler Ambassador parked on rich Nigerian red earth roads, one in a dress shirt and tie, the other in a traditional agbada, with a backdrop of Coca Cola trucks, stressing the country’s identity crisis.


Sade Thomas-Fahm sources local Nigerian textiles to create her own take on European fashions.

Considering the events in Nigeria right now, I was shocked to learn how difficult it has been for these artists to blaze their creative trails. Take Sade Thomas-Fahm, for example. She’s an up-and-coming fashion designer from Nigeria, and the first woman to open her own boutique in the country. Her designs combine tradition and modernism, reinventing British silhouettes with Nigerian textiles. Although it’s a perfect marriage, the public is a hard sell. It seems to me that the European influence over the African continent will be strong for many years to come.

Circling back to Mary Roblee Henry, I now find myself wary of style icons such as Marchesa Sieuwke Bisleti after exploring some of Africa’s “missing” frame of reference (which I now know is not so much “missing” as covered by a veil of European colonialism). Although I can’t help but feel the call to adventure, the romance of bush jackets and Gurkha shorts comes with a dash of bitterness now. Instead, I think I’ll find my practical elegance elsewhere, and look to lift up the voices of those like Sade Thomas-Fahm.

Now there is a true adventure.

Special Thanks to Nigerian Nostalgia Project for images from their archives.




[April 3, 1963] Feathered Threads (Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds)


by Gwyn Conaway


The Birds , directed by Alfred Hitchcock, premiered on March 28th, 1963.

Just yesterday I saw Alfred Hitchcock’s new film The Birds.  On its surface, the premise is quite simple — the avians in a peaceful locale suddenly turn murderous.  It's a superb piece of suspense from the unarguable master of such things.  As the sun rose this morning and I sipped my coffee, I wondered if the little songbirds in my garden could ever turn on me. What a chilling thought!

Of course, try as Hitchcock might to distract me with scenes of feathered terror, being me, I couldn’t help but notice the costume design. And while, the pre-release copy of the film I saw was in black and white, my privileged position at the studio let me observe the costumes in person (and in living color). With the film released, I can finally share what I’ve seen! 

Costume designer Edith Head masterfully combined the sleepy seaside palette with the elegance of the city through cut and fit. Lydia Brenner, played by the talented Jessica Tandy, is a great example of this harmony. Her fabrics are those that we associate with the country. Tweeds and contrast knits in particular are found throughout her design. However, her silhouettes are fresh and metropolitan. Head even mixes in fine silks to give her an air of sophistication. This combination also illuminates the teetering balance Brenner tries to maintain between a domineering and doting mother.


Lydia’s tweed cocoon coat is a beautiful example of how the fashion-forward city silhouette has creeped into Bodega Bay while maintaining the little coastal town’s country charm.


In this casual evening ensemble, we can see her motherly conundrum. Note the fine silk charmeuse blouse beneath the contrast knit cardigan. The “knit” side of Lydia’s personality is docile, while the “silk” side is conniving.

This subtle design emphasizes the obvious tension between Lydia and Melanie, played by Tippi Hedren, a socialite with designs on Lydia's son. Melanie is a city girl through and through. Her palettes play on this contrast. Her dress suit and fur jacket drip with metropolitan wealth.

When she borrowed a dinghy to sneak across the bay, I was struck with the direct comparison of the texture of the docks to her red fox fur coat. I realized that, in her own misguided way, she was using the natural texture of the fur to try helplessly to blend in with the little town; a detail that lends itself to her rather clumsy and charming game.

The star of the film was obviously her dress suit. The costume is an open jacket with small patch pockets that sit low on the hem and sleeve cuffs that fall just above the wrist. It’s cut to perfection with a single vertical dart from shoulder to bust that helps the jacket maintain a square yet smooth shape over the bust. The matching dress beneath is a sheath cut, sleeveless, with a three-inch wide self belt and an invisible zipper down the center back. What you can’t deduce from the release of the film, however, is that the dress suit is a tangy, energetic pistachio green!


Beautiful, isn’t it?

Draped in the color of spring, is it any wonder that Lydia feels threatened by the young and boisterous Melanie? Certainly not. However, I think the real source of Lydia’s uneasiness lies in Mitch’s wardrobe.

Lydia's son, Mitch Brenner, played by Rod Taylor (star of The Twilight Zone and The Time Machine, is a man caught between the slow-paced life of Bodega Bay and the bustling hubbub of the city. Although the seaside town is his escape, he is always destined to leave it for San Francisco.


Note that his styling, the ribbed fishing captain’s sweater paired with the paisley ascot, is that of a wealthy yachter rather than the resident of a coastal town.


Residents of Bodega Bay holed up in the local cafe with Melanie. The contrast in texture between her smooth dress suit and the local nappy textiles help her stand out among the crowd. Compare their looks with Mitch above for a similar effect.

At the same time, he follows his mother’s habits of using fashionable silhouettes with more textured fabrics. The suit he wears to his sister’s birthday party is an excellent example. A slender tie paired with a wide-gorge shirt collar and a high notch on the lapel of his suit jacket make for a very trendy man.

Rather than being concerned over the women in his life, perhaps Lydia is concerned for the patterns she sees within her son. Is he destined to forget her? Will he leave her like his father did before him?

The frenzy of the birds in Bodega Bay is a terrifying mystery. They seem to gather against humans without cause. However, I wonder if the answers don’t lie in Lydia’s fears. The birds crowd the town’s residents gradually and then strike with sudden ferocity. A similar feeling is commonly associated with anxiety. Lydia’s fears about her son are chronic with acute moments of panic. Could Lydia, in fact, be the subconscious cause of the birds?

I can only imagine that the connection is deliberate. Just as Edith Head wove the fabric of the costumes with the psyche of the characters, so Hitchcock wove a deeper theme into his film, elevating a "monster flick" into cinema for the ages.




[November 17, 1962] In Vogue (a look at Fashion, Fall 1962)


by Gwyn Conaway

It seems to me there is a silent war going on in Vogue New York this month, perhaps a reflection in fashion of the recently heightened conflict between East and West. Read on with me — do you see it too?


Vogue; New York; Nov 1, 1962; Vol. 140 (8)

I turned the pages of November’s first issue over the weekend. The usual suspects filled the pages: Tiffany & Co., Bergdorf Goodman Co., Master Furriers Guild, Miss Clairol, among others. The Shop Hound features were more of the same from late summer: long-stemmed wine flutes, latticed jewelry, needlepoint purses, and silverware inspired by Futurism. But as I lazily perused the corselette and perfume advertisements, my boredom gave way to an intriguing discovery.

It seems fashion has split itself into two distinct personalities this season.

On the one hand, luxury brands are pushing women into futuristic, slim mod designs. We have seen this trend over the past several months. Both Christian Dior and Cisa have adopted the trend in knitwear and woolens.


“The world’s finest knitted fashions for the world’s smartest women.” Cisa.

Vogue goes so far as to feature an article called “All Day Any Day: The Plucky Little Wools.” This article not only promotes a modern aesthetic; the descriptions constantly return to the versatility of the garments in shape, style, and color. White, blue, red, beige, and lime-green are mentioned as an extremely flexible palette, suitable for day, night, and the country. Lacking collars and adornment in general, these fashions transform “ease” into a hallmark of luxury.


Smooth silhouettes and solid textiles are the hallmark of our season with an unshakable Mondrian-esque quality.

Naturally, this extreme departure from the past decade has left a longing for the exact opposite in its wake. Juxtaposed with the modern, I find a stroke of romanticism for the past in the issue. A piece on Mainbocher, the American couturier, identifies his timeless aesthetic. His grand, sweeping gestures with fabric harken back to previous eras of pique feminine beauty. In the face of our fast-paced world, women such as Miss Anita Loos and Mrs. Murray Vanderbilt return to these garments time and again.


Mainbocher’s drape and style take us back in time to the French Rococo.

Hoods and nightdresses are also being designed to portray mystic beauty. Seen below, a floral peignoir hides the intentions of the wearer in a delicate pool of florals around the face. Opposite, a sheer nightdress, pleated and inspired by the Greek muses. Perhaps even more interesting about this spread is the title of the article: “New Ideas for Clothes that Never Go Anywhere,” which suggests that mystic beauty is found in the private lives of modern women rather than in our public personas.


Warner-Laros; Bergdorf Goodman

Vogue’s pages suggest that while our public selves are geometric, structured, and convenient, our private selves long for delicacy and grace. Is this the magazine’s intention? I see this split personality all across its advertisements and articles: women dressed in contrasting colors and patterns, paired like twins. Are we truly this dichotomous?

I found the final puzzle piece to this intrigue on page 110. The East India Company’s jewels create the perfect complement to the modern wools and knits of Christian Dior, Cisa, and others. India’s spectacularly detailed, opulent jewelry culture balances the modern aesthetic in a fresh and fulfilling way.


The New Season’s Throbs in Clothes and Beauty

And so the conflict runs full course and resolves itself. Perhaps we’re not splitting ourselves in two, but simply trying to find the perfect balance of extremes, in clothing and in the world. Only time will tell…




[May 19, 1962] I Sing the Future Electric (Fashion for the Future)


by Gwyn Conaway

I have noticed trends swinging wildly these past few months. Shapes, colors, and patterns that we’ve rarely seen in the past are appearing in advertisements and our favorite magazines. We are in a transition phase, ladies and gentlemen.

Behind us, the Golden Age of the fifties is rosy and romantic, a time of economic surplus and increasing leisure. I see this past decade as the slow climb of a roller coaster. With John Glenn’s successful Mercury-Atlas 6 spaceflight just months behind us, I realize now that his success marks the top of the roller coaster’s first hill. We’re now looking down at a twisting, speeding track. It’s the sixties, and I can tell it’s going to be a wild ride.

A recent episode of The Twilight Zone entitled ‘I Sing the Body Electric’ sparked my clarity on the subject of fashions heading our way these next several years.  It was the show’s one-hundredth episode, written by Ray Bradbury. A widowed father fears that his children don’t have the motherly guidance they need, and so purchases a made-to-order robot grandmother to care for them. Although his eldest daughter, Anne, is angry that her real mother died, she eventually sees Grandmother as a part of the family. Once the children have grown up, Grandmother returns to her manufacturer to be disassembled and await the next family.

This particular episode struck me in a way others have not. The costume design, which complements the script beautifully, communicates a future in fashion and popular mindset that is both exciting and chilling. It speaks of our scientific euphoria, but also our fears in embracing such an utopia.

Our optimism toward science and the future is evident in the costumes. The entire main cast wears grid-like stripes, plaids, and other formulaic patterns rather than organic motifs such as florals. Only when the children grow up and truly see Grandmother as a family member, do these regimented patterns disappear.


(From left to right) Karen, Anne, and Tom discuss purchasing a robot grandmother.

Note the siblings in the photograph above. Karen and Tom wear windowpane and plaid, respectively. Anne, the most hesitant of the three to adopt the ideas in their Modern Science magazine, wears bows on her dress, but even these organic motifs are arranged in a grid.

I opened my copies of Montgomery Ward from 1959 and this year’s most recent issue of Lana Lobell for comparison. Just two and a half years ago, young women wore romantically arranged florals that took up the entire cloth. This year, however, we see the same motifs separated into sparse patterns and parallel lines.


The Montgomery Ward versus the Lana Lobell fashions of the past few years. This subtle change in pattern arrangement marks the beginning of a new era.

One could say this is simply an evolution of aesthetic; reinventing established symbols for the next era. However, I postulate that this shift is indicative of a larger change coming our way. Younger generations have begun to protect themselves against a larger, more dangerous world. Where before our florals were a ‘garden’ upon the cloth, now they’re sparsely placed single blooms. We’re stepping away from such romanticism in favor of arming ourselves with both excitement and fear of the future.

Let us return to the episode to explore this more technologically-driven aesthetic. The company Fascimile offers the children many physical options for creating their perfect caregiver. Unquestionably the most provocative scene of the story, I was struck by the realization that we no longer romanticize a balance of leisure, work, and home in the way of the fifties. Rather, we view our lives and bodies as the canvas of modernism. We are beginning to package ourselves as a certain model of person.


These ensembles are decorated in this year’s latest floral motifs and stripes. The Fascimile salesman offers a wide selection of parts to build your perfect caregiver. From eye color to hair style, fashion to height, voice to sturdiness, the choice is yours!

In fact, the renewed popularity of square patterns, such as windowpane and plaid, can be definitively linked to the way in which our workplaces and homes are changing. As computing systems become more pervasive, the rooms in which we work become more ‘square’ as well. Offices and homes are becoming sleek, plastic, metallic, rubberized.

In ‘I Sing the Body Electric,’ we can see this relationship emerging. Perhaps the most interesting ensemble of the episode is the dress Grandmother wears during the climax of the story. It’s vertical lines trapped in neat horizontal rows reminded me immediately of the first integrated circuit created by Jack Kilby in 1958. These circuits, I’m told, are now being used in large computing machines, such as the IBM 7030. The IBM 7030 also arranges its various compartments in rows of vertical towers.


Grandmother’s dress compared to the IBM 7030 (top) and Kilby’s circuit (bottom). Note that even Grandmother’s belt maintains the horizontal rows of vertical lines.

But couldn’t this be a pattern only within this episode of The Twilight Zone? I asked myself the same question. I perused my fashion magazines and became excited. Women’s accessories, coats, purses, and clothing are all following this same pattern of evolution when we compare the fashions of just a few years ago to our current season:

While this hat from 1960 (left) is sweeping and sweet, the current fashion of 1962 (right) feels more like a helmet to protect the wearer from the outside world. This is another symbol that both showcases our fear of nuclear war, and our excitement for the future.

Christian Dior swings from a return to the Watteau back, the most romantic of all French Rococo 18th century women’s silhouettes in 1959 (left) to experimenting with the human body as geometric shape in one of his most recent designs of this year (right).

Christian Dior’s 1962 collection continues to push the boundaries of shape. This ensemble mirrors the silhouette of the Mercury-Atlas 6 right down to the flat-top hat. The luscious shine of the coat suggests sleek and minimalist will reign supreme in the coming years.

Ray Bradbury’s one-hundredth episode of The Twilight Zone did not disappoint. ‘I Sing the Body Electric’ took me on a whirlwind of a ride. His masterful screenplay helped me see the mouthwatering potential for change in the latter half of our decade. What will more scientific advancement do to our fashion? Will we wear flight suits instead of dresses? Helmets instead of hats? Will we integrate with computing machines in the far future so that we too can be made-to-order?

Young men and women may think they’re buying simple clothes, but in reality, they’re arming themselves for an unpredictable yet invigorating future. They’re setting aside romance in favor of progress.

But who’s to say modeling themselves after computing machines and space capsules isn’t a sort of romance of its own?

[Mar. 17, 1962]  Our Knights in Shining Armor (Have Space Suit, Will Travel)

[The Journey's "Fashion Columnist" returns with a timely piece on the latest advancement in sartorial science…]


by Gwyn Conaway

Last month, on February 20th, 1962, John Glenn became the second American to leave behind our earthly constraints for the majesty of space.

Less than one year after Alan Shepard’s historic suborbital flight on a Redstone rocket, John Glenn ascended to low Earth orbit in his spacecraft, Friendship 7. He circled the Earth three times at speeds upwards of 17,000 miles per hour, and persevered through the crushing force of nearly eight times the force of Earth's gravity Gs at reentry into our atmosphere.

What a time to be alive! We are witness to human history! This is a milestone in a long journey toward chasing the unknown. Never have I been more certain that we are explorers, creatures of adventure. And what better bedfellow to our curiosity than innovation?  For to accomplish his mission, Colonel Glenn required two spacecraft: the bell-shaped Mercury, as well as his formfitting personal capsule – the Mark IV spacesuit.

Our newly beloved Space Age is thanks, in no small part, to a little-known mechanical engineer and designer named Russell Colley at B. F. Goodrich Company. Owing to his career-long devotion to high-altitude pressure suits, Colley has been deemed the Father of the Spacesuit, the First Tailor of the Space Age. Mark my words, his Mark IV spacesuits, with their sleek and futuristic design, will inspire generations of fashion to come.

The Mark IV rides on the coattails of many pressure suits designed by Colley and others over the years. Its evolution is a testament to American doggedness and bears the fruits of the unbridled technological advancements in textiles and garment manufacturing we’ve seen through the past decade.


The Post pressure suit, first flown in 1934. This suit had a skewed visor to favor Wiley Post’s one good eye.

Colley first began his groundbreaking work in 1934 when Wiley Post, the aviator who achieved fame through making the first solo flight around the globe, commissioned him to design the world’s first pressurized suit for high-altitude flight. Later the same year, after two failed designs, Colley built a rubber bladder suit with long underwear and a diver’s helmet on his wife’s sewing machine. This suit launched Wiley Post 50,000 ft into the air and jump-started an evolution over the next thirty years that leads us to our current moment of triumph – the Mark IV spacesuits.


John Glenn being fit for his Mark IV, destined to carry him into orbit last month. What once looked like a diver’s suit has now been transformed into a feat of futuristic design and engineering.

From 1941 to 1954, the David Clark Company designed and built twenty pressure suit models for the U.S. Military.  When David Clark’s funding dried up, B.F. Goodrich, where Colley worked, was offered the contract. Colley himself built seven suits at B.F. Goodrich. They started this contract with the Model H (the 8th letter of the alphabet and their 8th suit design, in case you were wondering). Models H through R were built and tested before the company began the Mark series that would take Alan Shepard, Gus Grissom, and now John Glenn into space.

By the time B.F. Goodrich won the bid to build their Mark IV spacesuits in 1961, the U.S. Military and NASA had collectively funded more than forty pressure suit designs across three major engineering companies.


The Mercury 7 in a fitting for their Mark IV space suits. Note the sage green option for the suit in the back right.

The Mark IV, in addition to its sleek name, is a marvel to behold, unlike any other piece of flight equipment I’ve ever seen. Each suit is fitted by Colley in Akron, OH, where he attended to each of the Mercury 7 pilots. The gloves alone come in fifteen sizes: five palm sizes, each with short, regular, or long digits. John Glenn had a new feature added to his gloves specifically for his February flight: tiny lights affixed to the tops of each finger so he could read the instrument panels.


John Glenn shows off his finger flashlights. Also visible in this photo are the only two instances of metal bearings in the entire suit: the neck ring and glove attachments.

Space suits have made incredible strides since his Colley's collaboration with Wiley Post more than thirty years ago. When pressurized, these high altitude suits inflate the interior, pushing in on the human body and out on the suit. This provides the pilot with enough atmospheric pressure to stabilize blood flow to the brain and keeping them conscious during difficult maneuvers. However, once these suits are pressurized, mobility becomes extremely limited, and even bending one’s fingers becomes a task of titanic strength.


Astronauts ‘test’ the Mark IV in a light-hearted ball game. Clearly visible along the outer seams of the arms and legs are Colley’s revolutionary elastic pleating to enhance mobility.

The earliest suits were outfitted with heavy metal hinges at the joints for mobility. In a stroke of genius, Colley departed from metal bearings and joints in the Mark series. Rather, he used adjustable cords and pleats to fold the inflated suit at important junctions. While the cords had originally concerned NASA, they proved invaluable in fittings, where Colley was able to replace the lengths of many of these cords with highly-tailored zippers, elastic seams, and pressure pockets for each pilot.


John Glenn’s waffle-weave long underwear can be seen here as he suits up. The waffling occurs across the back, buttocks, thighs, and biceps in reinforced panels.

It’s a daring, romantic choice. I’m sure I’m not the only one who saw John Glenn walk to his shuttle last month and sigh, “Ah, now there is a knight in shining armor!” I wonder how far into the future Russell Colley’s Mark IV will inspire children, artists, and science fiction? How long will the stamp of America’s Mercury 7 linger on the face of space exploration? Decades? Centuries?

Yuri Gagarin may have beat us to space in April of last year, but the cosmonaut’s orange utility suit will not leave such a glimmer in the eyes of our children. The Russians touched the stars first, but Russell Colley has won the hearts of the people of Earth.