The
women in the family of my youth never EVER wore leopard print. The
combined opinion of my mother and two grandmothers was that only
girls of questionable character ( fast girls, cheap girls, easy
girls, tacky girls ... bad girls generally) wore leopard.
Am I
the only one who was taught this?
It's
certainly not news to anyone reading this post that leopard had been
in serious revival for several years now. I never thought it would
last, and boy, was I wrong about that! Of late, I'm seeing even more
of it, and in all colors and in every kind of clothing. And on women of the absolute highest character and stiffest moral
fiber. It has clearly transcended it's seedy reputation, if it ever
actually had one. Maybe the women in my family were just that
style-repressed.
Let
me be clear: I absolutely understand that leopard print is something
that I should just ignore if it makes me uncomfortable. And that would be the sensible thing to do. However,
it's everywhere. Everywhere.
And it just grates on me that I'm squeamish about a piece of fabric.
So, face what bugs you, right?
I
decided to take a brief sashay down memory lane, and take a look at
who wore leopard and why it so was so dangerous and it so upset my
foremothers.
Well,
yeah. I get this one. Famous pinup Betty Page was hard to compete
with for pure animal magnetism. Yikes.
Ava
Gardner presents a less primal sort of heat, but still, there's no
mistaking the message.
Jayne
Mansfield held aloft by Mickey Hargitay. Not much equivocation here
either. Nope. Not only did one need to be curvy, but athletically
gifted as well. I can see why a woman like this might intimidate Mom
and the grandmas.
And
Marilyn Monroe, of course.
I'm beginning to see a pattern here.
For me, the most memorable leopard-wearing lady was the wondrous Anne
Bancroft as Mrs. Robinson. I was an unsophisticated seventeen year
old in 1967, the year I saw The Graduate.
She
wasn't just wearing leopard lingerie as she stalked poor, flummoxed
Dustin Hoffman. She was a
leopard. Completely predatory. Talk about a woman wearing the
clothes instead of clothes wearing the woman.
But
then, there are the mixed messages sent by some leopard wearers. For
example, here's one of the eternally virginal Sandra Dee.
Rizzo may
have underestimated her a little. But still, she's a long way from
being overtly sexy.
And
then things even became more confusing when women like Jackie Kennedy
wore leopard. When you consider that part of the lure of leopard was
it's exotic expensiveness, her choice gives another completely
different vibe to the pattern.
But
if there was one woman who could out-ladylike Jacqueline Kennedy, it
was Audrey Hepburn. And when she wore leopard, it became the
complete opposite of tacky-tawdry. Full circle.
It's
clear that you can't judge a woman by her spots, so to speak.
Perhaps
my comfort levels will increase if I find a way to try just a little
bit of leopard, but still keep it at arm's length ...
Taaadaaa!
Nope, not real leopard. Just teddy-bear fur. Not even a real Fendi,
nor a complete knock-off. Just "inspired by".
I'll
let you know if my character gets ruined.
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On
another subject entirely ...
I
have the wonderful Pao at Project Minima to thank for an introduction to
the very interesting young ladies, Salizar and Jess who produce Style
Imitating Art, which is not so much a place as a movable feast of
inspiration. They choose a piece of art, and encourage others to
respond to it.
This
time they chose an untitled lithograph by American conceptual artist
Sol LeWitt.
Here's
my response to it.
See
what others submitted tomorrow (Tuesday, 2/26) at Jess' place, Animated Cardigan
_________________________________________________
I'm linking up with Patti at Not Dead Yet Style . I know her to be a woman of impeccable taste and the highest character. She wears leopard. 'Nuff said.
Have a great week!
