Pure Prairie League: Vintage Gunne Sax Dresses

There was a spell in the 1970s when prairie style ruled, not just in the central time zone where it originated, but from sea to shining sea. The vibe was more Stevie Nicks than Louisa May Alcott, with tiered ruffled skirts, Frye boots, and high-necked, lacy Victorian collars constituting the definitive dress-up look before disco hustled in with its Qiana and abbreviated cling.

Prairie was the very last incarnation of hippie chic styling, and the label that defined it was Gunne Sax by Jessica McClintock. The name refers to the gunny (burlap/hessian) sack border that trimmed some of the earlier models, of which many of the most collectable (and commensurately expensive) are the "black label" dresses produced solely in 1969.

Gunne Sax is still producing formal dresses, but the ones to seek out for vintage authenticity are those older ones featuring calico fabrics, velvet trims, and above all abundant lace . . . fabrics that were unlikely to have dressed the original prairie princesses, but for Amie and the rest of her 70s sisters, were heartland absolute.

(Gunne Sax dress above on Etsy here)

Getting to Know Provençal Prints

Among the many wonderful products that typify the sun-soaked Provence region of southern France are the printed cotton fabrics that are used to make household linens and clothing -- textiles adored by Parisians seeking to add a touch of summery, folksy charm to their otherwise ultrasophisticated modes de vie.

I dare not argue with Parisians on matters of style and neither should you--provençal prints are wonderful to wear when the days turn warm and the sun shines bright. There's a brilliant history of these distinctive fabrics here. While fine vintage examples are somewhat infrequent due to their regional origins, garments from Les Olivades and Souleiado are the best known of the genre. Or, if you're seeking online, simply type in "provencal print" and you may turn up something as cute as this skirt from Etsy . . .

By the way, souleiado translates from the craggy Provençal dialect to mean "rays of the sun breaking through the clouds after the rain." Isn't that beautiful? You can practically smell the lavender . . .

(top photo from Erinpk on Flickr, many thanks!)

She Wears Seashells by a Silk Cord

As much as I adore manmade artifice (see bees, below), it's impossible to beat nature for elegance of hue and form.

Case in point: seashells. I can spend hours on a beach looking for an intact cone shell or whelk (surely the same sifting instinct that drives the charity-shop trawls). Perfect ones beached in sea rubble are as magical as dubloons . . . the moonshell that sits on my computer desk is an oasis of natural order, and a reminder that somewhere, simultaneously, it's sunny and warm.

So thank you Etsy for this morning's revelation of a different way to wear two perfect shells . . . at the waist, at the ends of a loop of silk cord.


This seller is offering the belt ready made, at a gentle price, but if you happen to own a couple seashells that deserve more display time, why not find some lovely silk cord (craft shops, sewing stores, curtain supplies, etc), loop it once, then super-glue the ends deep into the shells' whorls . . . wear with a simple cotton dress or tunic. Alternately, make the loop much shorter, and wear the shells as pendants at the neck. So simple! Like nature.

Bees in Your Bonnet

It does not get any cuter than this hat from renowned Chicago milliners Bes-Ben, who plied their trade on Michigan Avenue from the late thirties until 1978, dressing the glossy crowns of Greta Garbo, Lana Turner and countless more with the most charming and whimsical of designs. The seller of this hat has others equally lovely, and provides an excellent capsule history in the description.

I'm not fond of insects around my head in real life, but turquoise ones caught in black net are a whole nother story. LOOK at the detailing on those wings. Just spectacular. Keep the name Bes-Ben in mind if you need a hat that will get conversation buzzing.

At the Costume Institute, the envelopes please

. . . and the winner is:

Amber Valetta, in RM Roland Mouret, by miles. She is admittedly very slim, but no less stunning for it.

A distant second by J-Lo:



Shocking, actually, how bad most of the rest looked. The money.

(photos by Sherly Rabbani and Josephine Solimene, via Style.com)

And Where Be Monsters?

Say what you will about the Munich design house Mondi, which had its heyday in the late 80s-early 90s; they boldly went where few designers had gone before (or would ever go again) in the exuberance of their printed fabrics. Case in point today's entry, which explores the little-known fashion subgenre of cartographic chic.

While Mondi's blazers frequently sported a big old crest on the breast pocket, commodore-style, the top-and-bottom ensembles and trousers often used the sea charts themselves as starting point. And how apropos to wear harborside in Portofino, Puerto Banus, Cap d'Antibes, and other chic ports of call . . .

"Where have you been on the yacht this summer darling?"
"Well we've stopped here and here and here . . . "

(If, by the by, you happen to be in London and want to see an exhibition on glorious printed maps, stop by the British Library's Magnificent Maps, on through September. Matching dress is not compulsory).

Where the Sun Don't Shine

It's a long weekend in London, and predictably the rain, on in full force, isn't due to stop until Wednesday. Nevermind. Because how could a day possibly be gloomy when you're wearing gorgeous sunglasses like these?

Or these?

Or these?

No problem staying cool in any one pair of these; I'll leave it to you to stay dry.