Avedon, Stars, and Style

I think that I'm predisposed towards interiors, fashion, food, celebrities, and the cognoscenti of yesteryear. Perhaps it's genetics, or maybe I was born in the wrong era. I don't know, but it really does seem that style- an individual sense of style, that is- was more prevalent "back then". Seeing an actress today, for example, schlepping her Starbucks cup while wearing Uggs just kind of ruins it for me. You know what I mean?

A book that seems to drive this point home is one that a photographer friend gave me recently- Performance: Richard Avedon, a compilation of his photos of performers. Noel Coward is in it as well as Diana Vreeland (if blog posts are any indication, we still revere this woman today.) Hepburn (both of them), Porter, Nureyev, and Capote also make appearances.

So, without further ado, here are a few images that caught my eye. And as I couldn't resist adding a design twist to this post, I'm also including a few images of their respective homes- just to help prove my point that these luminaries did have quite a sense of style.

Was there anyone with as much flair as Cole Porter?


Well, yes, but it wasn't a "who" but rather a "what": his Billy Baldwin designed apartment in Waldorf Towers.

If there was anyone who could give Porter a run for his money in terms of wit and a way with words, it was Noel Coward.


One might have expected his London home (shown here in 1937) to be frothy, but instead it's a bit rustic around the edges.

We all remember Edward G. Robinson as the cinema's ultimate mobster.


But did you know that he also had a renowned collection of Impressionist paintings, shown off to great effect in his Beverly Hills home? His home, by the way, was the handiwork of Samuel Marx and Frances Elkins. I bet that Little Caesar would never had had such elegant digs.

Rex Harrison. Leave it to "Sexy Rexy"...


...to have such a sexy dining room courtesy of Keith Irvine.

They say that Marlene Dietrich was the ultimate hausfrau. You certainly would not have known that by looking at this photograph.



You wouldn't have known it by her palatial Beverly Hills home, either.


(All portraits from Performance: Richard Avedon. Porter home photo from Billy Baldwin Decorates; Coward home photo from a 1937 issue of Arts & Decoration. Robinson home from UltraModern: Samuel Marx Architect, Designer, Art Collector; Harrison dining room shot from Keith Irvine: A Life in Decoration. Dietrich photo from House Beautiful, 9/2001.)

The Good Old Days

When I think of the olden days, I think of that episode of Designing Women in which someone said "Remember the good old days. They were old. They were good. They were days."

Seriously, certain activities seemed far more stylish back then than today. Like shopping. Going to the movies. Even going out for a cocktail or a meal. None of this tattered jeans and flip-flop business- people actually dressed up and made an effort when they went out. What happened?

I found some old images of movie theaters, restaurants, and department stores, and after seeing how glamorous these venues were, I can understand why people dressed up. You and I would if we had the chance to visit a movie theater designed by Samuel Marx. It's a far cry from our local AMC theaters with the stadium seating and surround sound. And wouldn't you want to primp, powder, puff and buff yourself before going to a shoe department decorated by architect Paul Williams?

(And I do want you to know that I try to do my part to keep up the good grooming habits of the old days. I once lived in a high-rise building where fire alarms were a common occurrence. And every time that alarm went off I always applied my lipstick and spritzed on some perfume before I made my way out of the building. Why risk my life to look good in a possible fire? I have no earthly idea, but I blame it on my mother who told me to always wear lipstick when I left the house. That's a throwback to the good old days, but it's one that I wholeheartedly adhere to-even at risk to life and limb!)


Samuel Marx designed the soigne Pump Room in the Ambassador Hotel, Chicago in 1938. The walls were cobalt blue, the banquettes white leather, and the light fixtures crystal. And if you dined at the Pump Room, you could expect this:


You'd wear a hat too if your waiter served you flaming game bird skewers with such flair!



Marx also designed the Lamar Theater in Oak Park, IL. I'd be tempted to give up my Netflix subscription and start going to the theater again if my AMC looked like this.


If the cosmetic counters at the department stores looked like Helena Rubenstein's Fifth Avenue salon c. 1948, then I would be willing to get this treatment:



Or even this one:



If only the Waffle House looked like this! (The Vienna Coffee House at the Mark Hopkins Hotel, San Francisco; designed by Dorothy Draper)


I might actually forget about the recession and buy some new shoes if shoe departments were like this one at Saks in Beverly Hills, c. 1938 (designed by Paul Williams).

Image at top: Remember when people used to dress for the theater? The last time I attended the theater, people brought in Cokes and Goobers!