All ratted up like a teenage jezebel

I have a dream when I close my eyes, I wish my hair was 10 feet high...

I had to stop for food while I did mine. Back-combing sure takes a while!

 

Those of you who follow me on instagram *waves*, you may have seen my hair looking a little bit... bigger than usual a few weeks back.  It was all in honour of a screening of Hairspray (1988) at the Komedia in sunny ol' Brighton which was followed by a bop for all the hair-hoppers and trashy teens (including myself, Hayley and Becca).  Well, after a few Christmas cocktails beforehand we actually managed to miss the screening (woops) but I've seen it so many times, I didn't really mind (I do love a bit of John Waters kitsch-o-rama).  The dance put on by the Big Itch boys afterwards was well worth the trip out in the rain though.  Becca and I even managed to make it into the final two couples of the dance competition - and we got to crack out the Madison!

But anyway, I'm here to write about what I wore, and of course, the hair.  When I heard that there was going to be a John Waters/Hairspray party my first dilemma was, do I go as a Drape from Cry Baby (who doesn't want to be Wanda?!) or one of the teenage jezebels from Hairspray?  Then I decided that I actually just wanted massive hair, so Hairspray it was.  I'd like to say that I had an elaborate plan with detailed setting patterns, paddings and lotions, but in truth, I just back-combed my hair and hoped for the best.  Inspired by an interview with John Waters where he said that all of the actresses' hair in the film was their own i.e. no hairpieces (although I imagine he's not including Debbie Harry's wig-bomb at the end) I decided that just using my own hair was the way to go (also, I have no hair pieces or wigs so that helped make up my mind!) 

Mid 'feathering' as Tracy would say. My arms were getting tired by this point

 So, with quite dirty hair, I set about back-combing as if my life depended on it.  I even took a photo half way through because I'd got bored as it was taking such a long time (an hour and a half from start to finish).  When I had finished creating this halo of hair, I smoothed it down into a beehive with a few curls left down - all held together with A LOT of hairspray.  And here's the finished result...



Sadly, the Christmas decoration wasn't attached

I thought the brooch looked like a suitably festive wreath

 

The back was pretty messy
but I was just shoving pins in and guessing really

 

I thought these looked pretty atomic
(they're actually for wrapping presents)

 I wore the same dress that I'd previously worn to Singing in the Rain as I thought it was just on the cusp of late fifties/early sixties, much like the film...  As the party was just before Christmas, I thought I'd be a little bit festive, so I had some foil decorations in my hair and a lovely wreath-style brooch from the '60s.  I also wore deadstock 1960s stockings and some plain white plimsolls.  I think kitten heels would've completed the look, but alas, I own none.  My makeup was a bit bolder than usual, with darker brows and frosted eyes and lips.

 

You can see my makeup and the sweater-guard a little better here

Dress - handmade early '60s

Cardigan - Zara

Brooch - '60s (a present)

Sweater-guard - made by me from some '60s jewellery 

I want to try more '60s styles in the future, especially as once I'd finished the back-combing, the style didn't take that long.  It did also have the benefit of lasting, completely intact until the next day.  Let me tell you, the brushing out was not fun!  

 

Are there any styles you think I should try or any spectacular 'dos you've had success with?

Penny and Tracy in all their glory

  

And before you ask - there are no 'roaches in my hair - this girl's a clean teen.  Well, teen might be pushing it...

Singing in the Rain (in the dry) Live by the Lake (we didn't find the lake)

 

I'm not one that often goes in for competitions, but I gave the one on Jeni Yesterday's blog a go because it just looked like such a nice evening out.  The prize was two tickets to see Singing in the Rain on an open air screen at Kenwood House, with the score skilfully recreated by the London Philharmonic Concert Orchestra.

 

I took my trusty sidekick Hayley (she'll hate me for calling her that!) along with me and we met up with Jeni and Hanson.  As we were making our way through the grounds of Kenwood House, we were in awe of the beautifully manicured gardens and were interested to see lots of other things going on in the grounds such as dancing from the London Swing Dance Society, massages and a moon-based photobooth.  We set up our little picnic, created an interesting new cocktail (called vapple if you're interested) and settled down to watch the classic musical. 



"Barbara can you hear meeee?"

 

Gene Kelly's widow Patricia was over from America and introduced the film - she also put a few rumours to rest including Gene's apparent dislike of the casting of Debbie Reynolds.

 

Having the score played out by a live orchestra was incredible and it made the film even more engaging.  The score had been laboriously reconstructed by John Wilson (who I had the pleasure of seeing at the Proms last year) as the scores from the majority of MGM musicals were destroyed in late 1960s.

 

Look! I managed to remember to get photos of what I was wearing.  My dress is one of the first vintage dresses I bought and it looks like it's handmade, I'd guess it's early 1960s.  My gloves and shoes are both charity shop finds (this isn't the most informative description of an outfit). 

10 points if you can spot Kenwood House

 

Faux bob and visible pins

 

I only realised when I got home that even though the event is called 'Live by the Lake', yet we'd managed to completely miss any large expanses of water!

Fall in love with Gilda, but stay for Rita

 

As any fan of the Godesses of the Silver Screen will tell you, Rita Hayworth is up there with the best of them.  Her gorgeous red hair (helped a little by Columbia Pictures), stunning smile and effortless charm made Rita, born Margarita Carmen Cansino, the most popular pin-up of World War II.

 


"Men fell in love with Gilda, but they wake up with me"

 

As such, it comes as no surprise that British Film Institute (BFI) has decided to hold a Rita Hayworth season (starting on the 1st June), which showcases some of her greatest performances committed to film.  Some highlights include the two films she made with Fred Astaire: You'll Never Get Rich (1941) and You Were Never Lovelier (1942), in which she demonstrated her considerable dancing abilities and which she described as 'the only jewels of [her] life'.  Also showing is the classic Gilda (1946), in which Rita played the ultimate screen siren and Cover Girl (1944) which saw her paired with Gene Kelly.

 


One of my favourite pictures of Rita

If you fancy seeing Rita up on the big screen, then make sure you get yourself along to BFI Southbank.  As an added bonus, if you use the code 'vintagenews' when booking, you can get £1.50 of your ticket price (apart from Tuesdays when tickets are only £6 anyway).

 

There will also be a competition on The Vintage News website to win a pair of tickets to the show of your choice, so keep your eyes peeled for that!

 

What is your favourite Rita Hayworth film? Are you planning to see any of her films at the BFI?

Here's Lookin' at You Kid

I've been incredibly busy this week, which is why it's taken me a while to write this post.  Last Friday took me to Casablanca in the French Protectorate of Morroco (via The Troxy in East London) for the latest offering from Future Cinema.

The Vintage News (for whom I work) were lucky enough to have been asked along to attend this amazing piece of immersive cinema - basically the film 'Casablanca' come to life.  As soon as I got to the entrance of Rick's Café Américain (under the bridge with my identity papers clutched in one hand and my camera in the other, to meet my 'contact' as per emailed instructions) the spectacle started.  People were being pulled out of taxis and told to line up with their hands against to wall, while the corrupt Vichy guards checked their credentials. 

 

 Once past the various be-fezzed guards, a myriad of corridors awaited, replete with Morroccan merchants selling their wares.  Once you walk through the door in to the main hall, it is absolutely breathtaking - the photo below doesn't do it justice.

As soon as we entered, whistles were being blown and men in uniform were chasing a chap in a fedora around the scores of tables, before carting him off to the sounds of Rick (the eponymous cafe owner) reassuring the gathered crowd that all was well.

 

Episodes like this punctuated the evening, with all the key moments of the film replicated in front (...and behind...and above) us.  There were certain things, such as a call to arms led by the Czech resistance fighter, Victor Laszlo, which I completely missed.  Although it added to the immersive element of the night, it was a bit of a drawback that some vignettes were so short and not in any way 'announced' that by the time you realised you were supposed to be watching something, it was already over.

Tickets were a little pricey at £25, but there was an awful lot going on (even if you did end up missing a fair bit).  As well as the staged pieces, there were roulette tables, a couple of bars (one dedicated solely to cocktails - yep, that's the one I patronised), a popcorn stand and also Moroccan food available (all of which cost on top of the entrance fee).

On stage were various acts, including a slightly bizarre Carmen Miranda-esque singer, as well as a sand dance

 

 A lovely rendition of 'Perfidia'

Some chorus girls

And an unwelcome chorus of "Die Wacht am Rhein" from the Germans, before they were humiliated by an even louder rendition of "Le Marsaillaise" from the resistance and party-goers with crib sheets.

 

Victor Laszlo - Vive Le France!

Benoit Viellefon and his Orchestra were the marvellous house band and played throughout the night.  I was fortunate enough to interview Benoit, although because I had to interview him in character, I just ended up asking lots of questions about the Nazis.

 I again forgot to get a photograph of what I was wearing, so this will have to do.  I wore my 1940s red suit (previously seen here) with a 1940s navy blue silk blouse.  I was quite pleased with my hair/hat combo (hat by Valerié), so I took this picture while I was getting ready (sorry for the awfully posed nature of the photo).

 

When not dashing about taking photos and interviewing French bandleaders, I had a nice catch up with Jenny, Lisa, Fleur and their respective gentlemen (including our friend Hanson).  Jenny, Lisa and myself went to play with the giant snake that was there (oh, had I not mentioned - there was a huge snake!) but sadly I didn't get a chance to hold it as I was on camera duties.

 After all of this, we were then treated to a screening of the 1942 classic (which you may be shocked to hear, but I hadn't actually seen before).  I won't go into a review of the film here, but it was absolutely fantastic seeing it in such an amazing venue, having just spent the last two hours having scenes of the film re-enacted around you.

 

As always, we made a film about the event, so if you skipped to the end of this post, you can get all the info without having to read!

 

I can't wait to see what Future Cinema have planned next, and if you can't wait either, they recently extended the run into March, and you can get tickets here (if there are any left!)

 

Clara Bow - The Hottest Jazz Baby in Films

After a recent documentary shown on the Beeb (which spoke as if no-one born after 1932 had ever heard of her), I was compelled to write about Clara Bow, the frivolous ingénue of the silent screen.  As she is such an interesting, and somewhat tragic character, I thought it right to redress the balance and write about the girl who was the personification of 'It'.



 

The first film of Clara's that I saw was her defining role in 'It' (1927) in which she plays a shop girl out to snare her employer.  Apart from it being an important piece of film history, I also found it really funny (it's definitely worth seeking out).  Clara perfectly depicts the girl-next-door who aspires for a better life and is determined to get it - but without having to give up her principles (she's not quite the floozy her boss thinks she is).   The concept of 'It' was defined by Elinor Glyn (said to have coined the term) as 'a strange magnetism which attracts both sexes', but can be more easily described as good old-fashioned sex appeal!

Clara with Madame Glyn

The film crystallised a new type of woman emerging both in film and society - the flapper.  These were newly emancipated young women, with the right to vote, money they'd earned themselves and trying to break free from the strict, corseted life previously laid out for them.

But Bow's carefree image onscreen belied a turbulent (to put it lightly) home life.  Born into poverty in a Brooklyn tenement to Sarah and Robert Bow in 1905, her childhood was marked by an absentee father and a mother with serious mental health problems.  One night when Clara was 16, she woke to find her mother standing with a butcher's knife to her throat, which led to Sarah being committed to a hospital where she died in 1923.

 

Clara's first break was winning an acting competition in 1921, after she astounded the judges with her ability to express such a range of emotions, even at the age of just 16.  A few minor film roles followed, and she soon began to steal any scene she was in.  Her first co-starring role came in 1923 in 'Black Oxen' which quickly led to starring roles, often as some variation of a flapper.

With Fredric March in 'The Wild Party' (1929)

Clara Bow was the epitome of the 'jazz-baby' that filmmakers were clamouring to put in their pictures and audiences couldn't wait to rush out to be immersed in her world of local-girl-done-good (after being a little bit bad of course).  She was phenomenally popular in her heyday, with reports of her receiving up to 45,000 letters from her 'fan-friends' in just one month in 1929.  A film star that ordinary women could identify with, her red hair (dyed with henna) was copied by many hoping to emulate the look of their favourite star.

From the lost film 'Red Hair'(1928)

It is often reported that Clara sank from stardom at the advent of the 'talkies' due to her thick Brooklyn accent, but she actually had some very successful speaking roles (such as 1929's 'The Wild Party').  Her accent in no way hampered her popularity, it actually endeared audiences to her as she was always seen as 'one of them'.  When the talkies arrived, Clara took on more mature roles including 'Call her Savage' (1932) and 'Hoopla' (1933). 

'Call Her Savage'(1932)

However, the tide was turning in regards to her popularity, fuelled by numerous scandals relating to her sex life, spending and drug-taking.  This, combined with the fact that  she really disliked rehearsing and learning her lines - she said they 'sapped her pep', really started to undermine her place at the top of Hollywood.  Her family history of mental and emotional problems, as well as chronic insomnia, were also beginning to take their toll.  Tellingly, she once said 'Being a sex symbol is a heavy load to carry, especially when one is tired, hurt and bewildered'.

 From 'Hoopla'(1933)

The final blow to her image was the seemingly endless bad press she received (much of it wildly exaggerated if not completely fabricated).  What had been seen as fun and exciting in the 1920s was seen as disgusting and wasteful during the depression of the 1930s.  Nobody wanted to see a flapper going to endless parties and running up a $14,000 debt at a casino (which Clara reportedly did in 1931) when they could hardly afford food.  A highly scandalous court case between Clara and her former secretary, Daisy de Voe (Clara sued de Voe for embezzlement) ended with Bow's reputation in tatters, after large amounts of evidence of her predilection for drink, drugs and gigolos came to light.  Her popularity declined rapidly and she was subsequently dropped from her contract with Paramount in 1931.

With Monroe Owsley in 'Call Her Savage' (1932)

Despite numerous offers of multi-picture contracts (including one from Howard Hughes), Bow retired to a Nevada ranch with her husband Rex Bell in 1933.  Their marriage started off very happily, but over the next decade she withdrew more from public life.  Her psychological wellbeing was also declining and this led to her attempted suicide in 1944, as she said couldn't cope with the thought of living in the public eye as a result of her husband's political aspirations.  The couple grew apart and in 1965 she died of a heart attack in Los Angeles.

From 'Call Her Savage' (1932)

In just 12 years she made an incredible impact on the film industry, and I imagine on the lives of young women on the 1920s as well.  Many of her films are thought to be lost, but a few have turned up in recent years (her most famous film 'It' was only unearthed during the 1960s).  Hopefully, all of her films will eventually be restored and more people will come to be entranced by 'the hottest jazz baby in films'.

 

I love this quote from Carl Sandberg and think it is a fitting ending to this post: "there are only about five actresses who give me a real thrill on the screen — and Clara is nearly five of them".