The vintage clothing sale and a fashion question

Today was the annual Vintage Clothing Show at the Chateau Laurier. I do love that crazy event. It brings out all the ever-so-slightly eccentric women. They’re all in search of that elusive magic combination: something unique and wonderful that fits them.

I’m less constrained by size than most, since I shop primarily for my mannequins, Peg, Clarissa and Genevieve. Pretty much everything fits them. If I see something I love, I buy it. I don’t have to try it on, I don’t have to worry about fit. (Unless it’s huge, which isn’t usually the case since vintage clothing tends to be smaller than contemporary clothing. Women used to be smaller.)

Peg, Clarissa and Genevieve have fashion balls. Unlike me, they like to stand out from the crowd and make a fashion statement. They’re all about plunging necklines, beads, sequins, bold colours and flamboyant hats.

I seem every year to be drawn to black dresses for them: lacey, beaded or fringed black dresses. But they don’t need more black dresses. They don’t change their clothes very often, and there’s not much room for redundancy in their closet. I find myself fingering the black dresses, then I force myself to move on.

The first things I bought weren’t clothes at all: they were two children’s clothes hangers and a box with fish on it. The hangers are for an art project I’m working on. I was just going to use ordinary metal hangers, but these are more perfect than I could possibly have imagined. The box? I think I just like boxes.

The year before last I got Clarissa this floor-length hand-embroidered wool dress from Belgrade. It’s thick and heavy and not very sexy but it’s got interesting lines and it’s ethnic and classy. I like it. Today I got her a complementary wool jacket to wear over top of it. (She’s wondering how long I’m going to keep her in this dowdy Victorian phase; she wants to wear something with more pizzazz. But I say no. Every year I add another layer to her outfit.)

I bought a corset for Peg! The dealer got it at the estate sale of an elderly woman in Nebraska. I have to admit I thought of Nursemyra when I bought this. She wears a different corset every Friday.

As soon as I saw it, I knew this corset was for Peg. She’s a bit of a floozy (I’m not suggesting Nursemyra is a bit of a floozy). Peg drinks and smokes and plays poker and listens to jazz and is quite voluptuous for a mannequin. I think of her as a vintage 20s or 30s flapper with curves.

After I bought the corset, I took another cruise through the whole show, looking for something for Peg to wear with her corset. Peg doesn’t actually have a bottom half. She’s a strange one actually: no bottom half, a voluptuous top half, and a tiny little pinhead. But still, she’d need something that would give the illusion of a bottom half – a skirt? A slip? What?

I couldn’t find anything, so finally I decided I would sort out the bottom half later. This worked out well, because when I got home I discovered, much to my surprise, that the corset didn’t fit Peg. Only one hook could reach its eye. This was okay though, since once I got it on her, I found the corset a little disturbing. I wasn’t comfortable with how starkly it emphasized and practically fetishized her leglessness. I might be eccentric, but I’m not into blatantly sexualizing mannequin amputees.

Not only did the corset not fit Peg, it barely fit Genevieve, and she’s got a 22 inch waist and tiny breasts. This presents a related but different dilemma. What should Genevieve wear on her bottom half? If YOU were Genevieve, what would YOU wear on YOUR bottom half?