I had forgotten about this photo. Stanley the cat inserted himself in the shot, and that is fine. I am wearing all used clothing, from the blouse to the sweater to the jean culottes (ebay) to the pearl (Brussels flea market). The quilt on the wall dates back to thirty years ago when I first moved to rural New England from NYC where I had bought fabric at one of the few wholesale fabric shops on Broadway that let me buy retail. Now all these shops are gone. I learned to quilt by taking a class in Windsor, Vermont, and used the New York purchased fabric. I will quilt again, it's on the list of all the post-retirement projects.

spring 2019

I've been away a while.
It's finally spring, which also took a while to return.
We had six months of winter up north, and finally, the flowers were allowed to come out.

This Memorial Day weekend, I headed to NYC to see my family.
With my mother, we did some shopping in Soho, and Eileen Fisher's used clothing room yielded this striped yellow and black dress, perfect for the sudden heat of the city.

With confidence, I headed to the Whitney Biennial where art work was very political but again, pleading to the converted. At least, that's what I think. While waiting to go in, early, before the museum opened to the general public, members were allowed in, anyway, I had nothing else to do so I inspected the list of big donors that greets visitors waiting on line, perhaps to inspire them to a. become a member so that they don't have to wait and b. give big if they feel so inclined. I was aghast at the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Mnuchin's names on the board. So maybe, some people go to the Whitney with their heart going one way and their money going the other way. Who knows.

The results of the European elections are also leaving me puzzled. I love the name of a French left-leaning party, "Pour l'Europe des Gens contre l'Europe de l'argent." It even rhymes! "For the Europe of people, against the Europe of money." (folks...dough?).  The nationalists win big in rural parts, Italy more than Spain. The Greens win big in cities and... Corsica?

Meanwhile, back home in good old "America," I am pissed at Alabama, and all the other states that are voting to restrict abortion. Restricting abortion just means hating women. Sometimes, yeah, women hating women. I think a lot about why so many people are so passionate about the little growth inside a woman's stomach. I understand that it's sad that that little growth might not be born and become a human being. But, I also see a lot of miserable humans out there, and I would rather focus on minimizing the misery, especially for the adults who will need to take care of these younger humans.

I am using the blog as a pulpit today. Why not?

So, readers, the two or three out there, here is the letter I wrote to the (female) (wtf $#%&((*??) governor of Alabama after she signed the most awful bill ever.

Dear Governor,

Your state of Alabama is in the news again.  I’m not so sure your state is in the news for good reasons, though. Alabama is never really in the news for good reasons. Has it ever been? You guys had a pretty awful civil rights situation on your hands, watched by millions on television, when your police clubbed innocent people walking across a bridge, asking for equal rights fifty years ago. Do you remember that?

It seems that now, fifty years later, you are more interested in the equal rights of fetuses than you have ever been in those of full-grown human beings. Thanks to you and your anti-abortion bill, Alabama is sending a very conflicting signal to the world. What is it exactly that you want? Not so much a guaranteed “pre-life” for all but rather, a great after life, maybe, judging by how much importance you attach to God in all your human, mortal decisions.

If God is watching you, he might be, she might be, they might be, they are scratching their heads and wondering why they ever gave humans the gift of reason. Reason, which gave us  science, medicine and democracy, was supposed to help us become better humans, wasn’t it? Instead, Alabama, you seem to have no interest in that gift of reason. You seem to be counting on the after-life for a better life for your constituents, since the present life is pretty awful judging by your ranking in the metrics of poverty, gender equality, education, and income distribution.

Alabama, what happened? Were you hoping that the whole civil rights moment was going to blow over and you could go back to plantation life, with men impregnating women whenever they wanted, and God forgiving all sins?

My sense is, watching from up north, the Yankee that I am, although, I am half-Southern, my daddy is from North Carolina, making it maybe okay to write things like “God has grown tired of you all (y’all).” Watch out Alabama because your state is no picnic, and, based on climate predictions and income predictions, which of course you don’t care about, it’s all in God’s hands, anyhow, based on human predictions, your state ain’t going nowhere good.

Thanks Alabama, for reviving the old patriarchy and all their crap, that many of us up north thought was finally dead and buried. We’re having to revisit all that goddamned painful history all over again, and I can guarantee, you don’t need science for this, it’s way more painful for women than it is for men. What does it matter, you ask? Who cares, you say, it’s all in God’s hands. We are doomed to live in pain. Yeah, sure, pain my ass. You governors and legislators just sit on your comfortable asses and sign away these laws, go home to a nice home cooked meal, and go to sleep in your nice big warm bed, and sleep away whatever damage you’ve created for the rest of your fellow, much less fortunate constituents.

God is not impressed. How do I know? Of course, I don’t know for sure. I’m one of those secular Yankees from up north. But I do know for sure that you have a conscience, and what’s left of it might wake you up one night and make you realize what dumb asses you’ve all been. There might still be time to repent, however. No one knows for sure, so, if you want to be on God’s good side, repeal that law immediately, and, instead, make sure that all women and children receive decent medical coverage. While you’re at it, could you remember to fund public school education?  God would probably like that too.

Very truly yours,

Annabelle Cone, New Hampshire, USA

Toast and older women

I love this brand, and I love this feature on their web site. Older women -- a category to which I belong more and more -- have an opportunity to assume a stylish identity but it is often overlooked because fashion is "jeuniste," as the French say, youth dictated and oriented.

clothes addiction

 It's the middle (?) of winter here in Northern New England, and, with no chance of getting out until March, with teaching schedule constraints, what is a person to do? Buy more clothes of course! Another White River Junction VT vacation at Revolution yielded the acquisition of this black cashmere faux cardigan. I am pairing it with a pair of J.Crew wool plaid pants that have been sitting in my closet, waiting for a mate.

I am well aware that my closet is overflowing with clothes. The reason is quite simple: I love clothes. I love taking the self-indulgent time to assemble outfits. Some people go to spas, and indulge in weekend retreats. I retreat to my closet and try out outfits. I try to memorize them so that in the morning, when I'm in a hurry to get out the door, I can quickly get dressed. Memorizing assembled outfits must also be good for the brain. 

Another  mid winter activity: sorting through old photos. A bit like the aforementioned full closet, the computer needs space. I came across this photo I took of one of my daughters while we were waiting for the M train in Brooklyn. What a vintage subway line that is! I highly (ha ha) recommend riding it out to the end of the line, just to look at the neighborhoods from the vantage point of a moving elevated train. 

Vintage in winter

My partner is a big JJ Cale fan. Cale wrote the song "After Midnight" that Eric Clapton made famous. He also wrote a lot of others songs. We don't normally go to tribute concerts, but we went to this one, in Burlington, VT. In the middle of winter, one has to take urban breaks, as in, go TO a city, even if it means walking around in sub zero temperatures. We have our little routine, go to Church Street, the pedestrian shopping street, and check to see if "Dirt Chic," located on Main Street, has any good finds. 

Then eat at one of the many restaurants in town. This time we opted for Turkish food which was really delicious. Then off to the concert at "Higher Ground." We were not disappointed, the band was really good. 

The next morning, in need of a good cup of coffee, we stopped in Montpelier on our way home. We also have our little routine in that town as well. "The Getup Vintage" sells music - vinyl and cds - as well as vintage clothing. I tried to persuade a younger woman who was trying on a Woolrich plaid coat to buy it. Alas, she didn't, for the same reason that I didn't buy anything: we already had all that we needed. 

Meanwhile, since it is winter, I've been curious to find out about women's skiwear from the early days of skiing. In my Google search, I came across this blogger who seems to be looking at the history of clothing as her retirement project. Nice!  

source:https://dressingvintage.com/blogs/dressing-vintage-blog/ugly-sweater-party-at-the-olympics-channeled-80s-chic-or-disaster

This photo from https://historydaily.org/

What I love in particular is that the sport was a "gender equalizer" more or less as soon as it became popular. Albeit elitist, a sport reserved for the very rich (I am talking about resort skiing), it put men and women on an equal footing, to the point where women were able to compete almost as soon as competition came into existence. And, women were able to wear pants.  To read more on the subject, I read this article written by Lucy Johnston who looks at "the role of the early female participants in a complex sport and shows how they set an example by their dress codes, helping to change attitudes not only in the winter resorts but also back home" (1).  (From Costume: The Journal of the Costume Society Vol. 38). 

One more thing I noticed about women's ski fashion from the early days is how it influenced later fashion. The single breasted jacket, for example, remains chic, modern and timeless. 

accidental icon

This woman's blog came across my Facebook newsfeed. Being older and using fashion as a form of rebellion. All in favor.

Paris is not burning

The thing about Paris is that it isn't supposed to change. And, in most neighborhoods, nothing does 

 

really change. The picturesque Place de la Contrescarpe, a piece of jewelry shining in the distance as I approached it by foot coming from the Jardin des Plantes, looks so quaint and pristine, perhaps a little too quaint and a little too pristine. But that's the point isn't it? Make a place look historically timeless by painting its buildings white and closing it down to traffic, or, as in the case of this square (or circle), making it difficult for cars to drive through it. 

Here, in an older photograph from a blog about Hemingway, is a photograph of the same square (from the 1920s I assume). Not quite as quaint, not at all pristine. 

***

Another thing about Paris is that it considers itself the center of the world, as the mail slots at the local post office can attest. You put your mail either in the "Paris and suburbs" slot or... the other slot, which is for mail going to the provinces and the rest of the world. Nice alignment.  

One thing for which I am grateful in its timelessness is the abundance of really good bookstores, from tiny neighborhood ones that carry the latest prize winners alongside the classics and some more obscure titles that might escape one's attention, to the bigger ones like the Librairie Pedone, around since 1838,  which specializes in law books as it is located near the law faculty. But its window was so delightfully done up for the holidays, it attracted my gaze on that same walk through the 5th back to the 6th where I was staying this time around.

Bookstore Pedone on the rue Soufflot

***

The meanderings of night time included this church just outside the Italian Cultural Center, again in the 5th. I love the reflection of the woman standing inside the Cultural Center (where I attended a baroque concert) overlapping with the leaning bicycle.   

Eglise Saint-Séverin

I also attended a concert by the French group Moriarty, which specializes in vintage sounds --American bluegrass, folk, country western performed by French musicians headed by a vintage wearing and sounding Franco-American singer by the name of Rosemary Standley. 

They played their music to the projected images of Robert Doisneau, known for his window reflections, taken from inside and outside various shops,  and photographs of France and its countryside that also project a timelessness.

***

My wanderings always include, of course, visits to consignment shops. Good old reliable Cherche Minippes on the rue du Cherche Midi in the 6th still has a good selection of middle to expensive brand clothing. 

I also encountered yet another Kilo Shop on the Grands Boulevards (Boulevard Montmartre) where its wooden floor was the most beautiful of its timeless contents.