The Vintage Traveler

In one of those odd twists of the rules of the universe, a woman receives credit for doing something the male protagonist in this book actually did first. The woman is Coco Chanel, (who, by the way, is not mentioned in the book) and the man is Gerald Murphy. You may have heard of Murphy even though his is not exactly a household name these days. He and his wife Sara moved to France in 1921, and created a life based on the things they loved for themselves and their three children.

The Murphys loved art and good food and writing. They loved the sea and in 1923 they discovered the joys of the French Riviera. They arrived in Cap d’Antibes just as the winter visitors were leaving. They proceeded to clean up the beach and to introduce their visiting friends to sunbathing. Considering among their friends were Pablo and Olga Picasso, Cole Porter, Rudolph Valentino, and Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, their way of life quickly spread to other resorts in the south of France.

Gerald also loved fashion, and he created a unique beach look for himself. He bought the blue and white striped jerseys worn by French sailors at a local sailors’ supply store. He paired the jerseys with white pants and shorts. Several years later Chanel was photographed wearing a similar ensemble, though her pants were dark, probably blue. It’s that photo that seems to have led to the myth that Chanel discovered the striped jersey.

Through the 1920s and into the 30s, the Murphys lived an idyllic life in France. But the rumblings of war to come and the illness of one of their sons compelled them to return to New York. There, in another nod to fashion, Gerald had to take over the family business, Mark Cross leather goods. Even though he hated it, Gerald continued to run the company until 1956. The wonderful little overnight case carried by Grace Kelly in Rear Window was developed during his tenure at Mark Cross.

This is a story about historical research, and how sometimes you just get lucky.

When I first started volunteering at the Shook – Smathers House I noticed there were three pieces of homespun textiles in the house. Among them was the apron above. None of the other volunteers knew the history of it.

This is not surprising due to the nature of volunteerism. Volunteers come and go for various reasons. Probably the biggest reason is many volunteers are older, and so many are lost due to advancing age and the many issues associated with it. The collection at the Shook – Smathers is only about twenty years old, and yet there are very few volunteers who have been there since the beginning.

This shows us the extreme value of recordkeeping. At first it appeared to me that there were no collections records kept at all. But after weeks of looking through old files, the historical society’s newsletter, and piles of stuff in boxes, I realized that many records were present. They just needed some organization.

Still, I was not able to discover the origin of the homespun textiles. What I did know was that there had been at one time a trunk of old textiles stored in the attic. The trunk was referenced in a 1931 newspaper article we found in an old scrapbook given to the museum. Part of the article was a photograph of Ruth, the teenage daughter of the owner of the house, wearing some homespun garments that had been owned by her great-great grandmother, Mary Agner Smathers. According to the article the clothing had been made by Mary herself.

The quality of the photo was what one might expect from a ninety-three year old newspaper clipping. But it is clear enough to see that young Ruth is wearing an apron very similar to the one in the museum’s collection. Still, that’s not enough proof for us to say the apron was original to the house, especially since the house contained several trunks, but no textiles.

Then a longtime docent suggested that we ask Ruth’s daughter, who is still alive and has a great memory. A phone call later we had the answer. The apron and two other pieces had come from the trunk. After the vacant house had been broken into, Ruth, then elderly and living in another city, and her children took the family heirlooms from the house for safekeeping. They had returned some of the items in 2003 after the house was restored and made into the museum.

But what happened to to the other textiles? Part of the answer is that they were given away, probably by Ruth’s mother who lived in the house until her death in 1981. The North Carolina Museum of History has a bonnet made and worn by Mary Agner Smathers. It was donated in 1956 by a cousin of the family. Our guess is that she was given the bonnet by Ruth’s mother.

On a different note, I was able to track down the Bible Ruth is holding. Printed in German, it dates to 1732 and was used by Mary Agner Smathers, who never learned to read English. The Bible was given to a cousin, and it now resides with her son.

Studying this apron has been a real eyeopener. Made of linen and dyed with indigo and madder, the amount of work that went into it was staggering. It’s completely made by hand from start to finish, with the tiniest precise stitches imaginable. By the time Mary Agner moved into the Shook – Smathers House to live with a son, she was already elderly. The apron probably predates her time there, which was in the 1860s. By that time factory made textiles were becoming available, and Mary no longer had to work so hard for her clothing.

At a recent meeting of the local historic society, I was able to present the story of Mary Agner Smathers’ apron, a story that is now fully documented and preserved for future historians.

Last fall I found this handbag at a bargain price in an antique mall, so of course I had to buy it. I had always read that this type bag was made in the 1940s from surplus telephone cords, but like so many internet stories, this turns out not to be true.

Yes, I know they do look like phone cords, but thanks to a great article at The Vintage Purse Gallery, I know that these coiled plastic handbags have nothing at all to do with telephone cords. Coiled phone cords were developed in the 1930s, but did not come into common use until the 1950s. The technology for the coiled handbag was developed in the 1940s and was patented in 1946. I don’t know when the first coiled plastic bags were made, but a search on newspaperarchive,com showed they were most advertised in 1954.

So, why are these called “phone cord bags”? I really can’t say, but my experience with how information spreads on the internet might provide a clue. One person probably referred to this type bag as being made from phone cords, the “information” was repeated, and next thing we know the phone cord bag is invented.

This has happened so much in the vintage fashion world that I’ve pretty much stopped complaining about it. I’ve even gotten used to late 1950s and early 60s cotton swimsuits being called “rompers”.

These bags are really popular with the vintage wearing crowd, and it’s easy to see why. They sure do pack a lot of color into a small space.

This brochure for the Cole of California saleswoman is not dated, but the styles are about 1956. I’m sure there are people out there who will recognize one of the styles and who can tell me the exact year. Or maybe I’ll get ambitious and look through my mid 1950s fashion magazines for the answer.

“Picture the lady on the beach. Recognize the lady’s figure.” It’s interesting that women’s figures are laid out as problems to be solved. Let’s hope that the saleswomen were wise enough to suggest styles without pointing out the problems to the customer. No wonder so many women have fitting room anxiety.

“Sales are made in the fitting room, not over the counter.” I’d never thought of this, but it is absolutely true. And not stated, but also true is that sales are lost in the fitting room as well.

Women get so many mixed messages when it comes to what one can or can’t wear. Or should or shouldn’t. I appreciate the feminism behind the “wear anything you want” message, but most of us have seen ourselves in the mirror enough to know that some clothes are going to make us happy, and others simply will not work. It really has more to do with our own sense of what works on our bodies, and what makes us feel silly or dumpy or just plain sad. I try to think that I make my own clothing rules, but the fact is, the rule that says ruffles look silly on a short woman rings very true.

By the 1950s swimsuit makers had figured out that it’s necessary to accessorize that swimsuit. I’m always happy to find matching pieces for the swimsuits in my collection. I’m wishing more saleswomen had taken the “sell a matching piece” advice more seriously.