qui qu'a vu coco

Coco Avant Chanel, with Audrey Tautou as the titular role

Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky, where Anna Mouglalis portrays the fashion dynamo

I had the pleasure of watching Coco Avant Chanel (known as Coco Before Chanel here in the States) and Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky back-to-back the other night. If you’re going to do an evening with Coco biopics, this is the order to do them in. Subject-wise, the stories overlapped for just three minutes. C Avant C ended after the death of Coco’s lifelong love Arthur ‘Boy’ Capel in an automobile accident in 1919. CC&IS picks up right after that – Capel is only in the film briefly, then the narrative jumps forward seven years to the aftermath of his death, where Chanel was described to be the only woman who could make grief look chic.

Not only do the films each examine different eras in the fashion titan’s life, but, through the narrative, two decidedly very different women emerge.

In Coco Avant Chanel, Audrey Tautou plays the young, feisty gamine Gabrielle Chanel, nicknamed ‘Coco’ by her lover after the song she sings with her sister in their cabaret act. Tautou’s Coco is a hardworking, strategic young woman who didn’t know quite what she wanted – except to move beyond the memories of her father’s abandonment of her at an orphanage during her early years and her job as a seamstress. She engages in an affair with a baron, Etienne Balsan, whose high-profile friends gives her an entrée into French society as well as a posh pad to stay at. Balsan never comes off in the film as having the deep desire for Coco that Boy Capel does, but it is obvious that he had deep affection for her.

While staying at Balsan’s mansion, Chanel continues her hobby of making hats, gifting them to various girl friends and mistresses who stop by the Balsan home. It is Boy Capel who encourages Coco to take her talent as a hat-maker beyond just a hobby – he believes that she could be a real force in the fashion world. His encouragement allowed Coco to pursue a career, and his leisurely style of dress – relaxed suits and jersey shirts – were greatly influential upon Chanel’s early masculine womenswear designs. As Coco the designer finds great success in Paris, tragedy strikes when Capel dies unexpectedly. The last images of Coco in the film are of a heartbroken woman, left without her love but with the thriving business that he inspired her to create.

In Coco Chanel and Igor Stravinsky, Coco Chanel has already found success in the fashion world. When she invites Stravinsky and his family to stay with her at her country home, she is independently wealthy. She is not the romantic young girl with designs on becoming an actress like in Tautou’s depiction; the woman that Anna Mouglalis portrays is icy, beautiful, and self-assured almost to the point of callousness. When she embarks on an affair with Stravinsky, she denies herself the passion that previous film’s dynamic between Capel and Chanel (or even she and Balsan, for that matter). She wants what she wants – and, in that particular case, she wanted to be with the man who created such tremendous music that she admired. Never mind that Stravinsky’s wife, who is dying of consumption, and children are in the next room. The affair serves a greater creative purpose, the film seems to say – borne out of their illicit relationship is the creation of Chanel No. 5 and Stravinsky’s experimentation with freer form and Neoclassicism.

If Coco at the end of C Avant C had become hardened because of Capel’s death, the austerity that she possesses in CC&IS is unwavering. It is almost as though she is playing a game – she is an actress within her own world and she can never be off her cue. The poise that she maintains in this film is almost frightening. She seems unreal, like an unfinished character in a Fitzgerald novel; a femme fatale who was only given a short treatment. I finished the movie feeling (and understanding) less about the fashion great than when I started.

But maybe that’s the appeal - and the purpose. The Chanel brand has created a permanent air of mystery around itself – a certain French sophistication where only those in the know truly know. To deconstruct the woman at the helm of the brand would be to turn the Chanel world into something comprehendible to anyone who was willing to dedicate two hours of their life to a movie. Honestly, I can’t imagine anything worse than if a young university student like I felt like I could understand and relate to Coco Chanel. No, Coco was in a league all her own. 

they'll name a city after us

Daily Inspirations: a hodgepodge of images I find exciting, enthralling, beautiful, captivating, funny, or smart. They probably won’t make sense altogether, but our most exciting thoughts never do.

Love this photo of Jean Shrimpton and Dudley Moore, shot by David Bailey for the June 1965 issue of Vogue UK

Following up the previous Audrey post, how can you not love her as the daring darling Holly Golightly?

Vanessa Paradis with a guitar, a floppy felt hat, a lace dress, white over-the-knee socks, and maddeningly gorgeous makeup and hair. In the immortal words of Rachel Zoe, "I die."

I am such a Rose, it's not even funny.

Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks - my what a height difference! Imagine trying to get the two of them in the same shot!

You know when you see a photograph not of you, but it perfectly describes you during a certain time in your life? Yeah, this is me in the early nineties.

Why I envious this photograph: 1) I wish I could be that bendy, 2) I can't even play the piano right-side up, let alone upside down on the top of a piano, 3) I want to learn how to make my hair do that, 4) I do not have the body to pull off that outfit, 5) those are some may-jah shoes.

Club kids and Hindu gods, what's wrong with that? But seriously... there are arms everywhere (and not just coming from Vishnu).

I will forever be obsessed with the life of Marie Antoinette. That, coupled with my debilitating desire to live inside of a Sofia Coppola film, means that this film will own my life. Forever.

Betsey. She's my best friend. I adore her in so many ways. Betsey, can we just run away together and live in Betseyville forever?

The five Ames Sisters in 1929 in order: Dorothy, Alice, Marjorie, Mary Eloise, and Barbara. Marjorie looks a lot like Mariel Hemingway to me. And I'm kinda obsessed with Barbara's expression.

I don't know, but I love it.

Louise Brooks. Need I say more?

I absolutely adore this. I wish to be a train wreck with someone one day.

I don't know why this was such a revolutionary thought to me.

My forever, undying love of all things Alice. Again, like Sofia Coppola, I dream of living inside Lewis Carroll's world. Gasp! Imagine if instead of Tim Burton, Sofia Coppola had made a version of Alice in Wonderland. It would be so dreamy and unreal.

I love the idea of going to Coney Island. I've never gone before, but I would want it to be all vintage-y and hokey like in the 1940s. Since I know that's not the case today, I won't ever go because I don't want to spoil the dream.

"champagne is champagne in a train more than anywhere."

On the surface, she seemed to be the ultimate high society flapper. The only daughter of Sir Bache Cunard, a baronet, and his American wife Maud Alice Burke (known as 'Emerald Lady Cunard' to the world), a doyenne of the London society set, Nancy Cunard (1896-1965) lived a life of privilege from an early age. She was heiress to the extremely wealthy Cunard transatlantic steamship company, founded by her grandfather. During the 1920s, Cunard came to symbolize the "new woman" of the decade. She was sensational - a gorgeous sight in exotic clothing, she had everyone hanging on her every word. William Carlos Williams called her "one of the major phenomena of history" and kept a photograph of her in his study. As a little girl, she "wanted to run away and be a vagabond," as she told family friend George Moore. Despite her upper class upbringing, Nancy rejected the ideals set forth by her family, instead choosing to live most of her life as an activist to issues such as fascism and racism. 
In 1910, after her parents separated, she moved with her mother to London. Her adolescence was checkered with times spent in Germany and France in boarding school, other times her mother was content to have her at home. During World War I, Nancy developed a relationship with Peter Broughton Adderley, a soldier who was killed in action only weeks before Armistice Day while in France. Within the year, a young Nancy was wed to Sydney Fairbairn, a veteran of the war and prized cricketeer. The marriage lasted less than two years, many allege it was because of Cunard's lasting grief over Adderley's death. It was during this time that she was associated with the influential group The Coterie (an Algonquin Table of sorts for the UK).

After her marriage ended, Nancy moved to Paris at the age of 24. It was in Paris that she became involved with the modernist, surrealist, and dadaist movements, publishing most of her poetry during her time there. She published three volumes of poetry: Outlaw (1921), Sublunary (1923), and Parallax (1925), the latter published by Leonard and Virginia Woolf. She had a brief affair with Aldous Huxley, which would later prove inspiration for several of his novels, including Antic Hay and Point Counter Point, before starting a two-year relationship with Louis Aragon.

In a swirling mix of friends and lovers, Cunard was muse and mentor to some of the most celebrated and distinguished of artists - from writers including Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce, Langston Hughes (who called her "one of my favorite folks in the world"), William Carlos Williams, Wyndham Lewis, Ezra Pound, Louis Aragon, Aldous Huxley, Pablo Neruda Henry Crowder, Mina Loy and Tristan Tzara. She posed for Man Ray, Cecil Beaton, Constatin Brancusi, Alvaro Guevara, and Ambrose McEvoy. Cunard was also the inspiration for the character Diana Merrick, played by Greta Garbo, in the film A Woman of Affairs, based on the play The Green Hat. She was beautiful - a rail thin beauty swathed in expensive threads, and made up with smoky make up.

In the late 1920s, Nancy moved to Normandy, setting up the Hours Press in 1928 for young experimental writers. That same year she began a relationship with African American jazz musician Henry Crowder, who then was living in Paris. As a result of the relationship, Cunard became involved with politics, developing a passion for civil rights, even living in Harlem for a time - much to the horror of her mother (her mother was quoted as saying, "Is it true that my daughter knows a Negro?") She wrote Black Man and White Ladyship in 1931 and edited the anthology Negro, which contained early works from Zora Neale Hurston, WeB DuBois, and Langston Hughes.

Her appreciation for the African American community and culture translated over into her widely imitated style. Her arms were always festooned with African bangles, worn layered on top of each other up to both her elbows. She had a love of exotic prints, and wrapped turbans around her fashionably cropped hair. She kept her lips and nails painted in a deep vermillion red at all times.

During the years leading up to the Second World War, Nancy became deeply involved with fascist causes, frequently using the Hours Press to print pamphlets of war poetry. In WWII, she worked for the French Resistance as a translator. Of her political involvements, Cunard said "I've always had the feeling that everyone alive can do something that is worthwhile." After the war, Cunard left Normandy to travel the world. Her later years were plagued by mental illness, untreated throughout her life and aggravated by her severe alcoholism and self-destructive nature, causing her health to rapidly deteriorate. She was severely impoverished, and passed away in a Paris hospital in 1965 after being found on the street, only weighing 26 kilos (less than 60 pounds).

switch me on, turn me up, don't want it baudelaire, just glitter lust

Alison Goldfrapp (b. May 13, 1966), frontwoman and namesake of the electro-pop duo Goldfrapp, is such an inspiration for fashion, especially for me. The "Ooh La La" singer is famously elusive about her personal life, and very hesitant to give interviews. This media shyness adds to the air of mystery surrounding this Brit bird, allowing her to adopt a new style persona with each album release. She has had as many transformations under her belt as fellow songstress Madonna, and it is easy to understand Goldfrapp's criticism of the Material Girl for allegedly ripping off her style (The British press is on her side - calling Madge 'Oldfrapp').

Whatever you think about the Madonna-drama, you have to admit that Alison Goldfrapp has some serious style. I adore her for her free-spirited approach to performing (she is rarely seen in shoes while on stage) and her love of all things glamorous. She always looks like she's having fun in what she's wearing, which is honestly the whole point of fashion, isn't it? Her fashion tip: "Just always do your own thing and wear whatever you want."

The Felt Mountain Years (2000-2002):

For Goldfrapp's debut LP Felt Mountain, she was all about berets, Hunter rain boots paired with parkas, soft finger waves, and Heidi braids. A neo-grunge meets English country rose emerged and became one of her most popular looks.

The Black Cherry Years (2003-2004):

For Black Cherry, Goldfrapp was Little Red Riding Hood gone bad. She piled her curls on top of her head in a very Helena Bonham Carter fashion, and concentrated her wardrobe around a black and red palette. She also adopted Vivienne Westwood punk and introduced into her wardrobe velvet capes, top hats, bustier dresses, 1940s-inspired hats, and stilettos worn with striped ankle socks.

The Supernature Years (2005-2006):

For Supernature she went ultra-glam, with her now-signature mane of platinum corkscrew curls and heavily made-up dollybird eyes. This look is reminiscent of 1970s Biba girls who paired the decadent noir looks of the 1920s and 1930s with the glam rock style of the decade. Sculpting her brows into a pin-thin style last seen on the likes of Jean Harlow, Goldfrapp indulged in a love affair with peacock feathers, turban hats, tuxedo jackets, jumpsuits, sky-high platform heels, black lingerie poking out of her clothes, and fishnets. The neo-flapper look is such an integral part of the Supernature look. You can't see it in the photograph but the black jumpsuit she is seen wearing in the lower row of photographs is actually covered in a thick ring of fringe from the knee down, and creates a halo around her as she dances (seen in the 'Ooh La La' video).

The Seventh Tree Years (2007-2008):

In a striking change from the glam rock aesthetic of Supernature, Goldfrapp put away her jumpsuits and platforms and embraced the folkier vibe of Seventh Tree. With oversized poets blouses, tri-corn pirate hats decorated with marabou feathers, multi-colored harlequin suits, over-the-knee socks, the psychedelic carnival inspiration of the album is obvious. She completely the look with a giant owl she frequently posed with.

The Head First Years (2009-Present):

The recently released photos from Goldfrapp's latest upcoming effort Head First reveal a late-1970s and early 1980s appeal. In oversized stonewashed button downs, and pink bomber jumpsuits, the look unites the glam Studio 54 look of Diana Ross with the color palette of Punky Brewster. She completes the look with eye shadows of blues and icy purples.

Her concert style:

She ditched her signature corkscrew curls for several shows, and also switched up her concert garb from flowing smocked minidresses to skintight bodysuits and dresses. She was never seen without a pair of sunglasses on her face, usually it was a pair of candy pink plastic heart-shaped frames.

Going along with the circus aesthetic of Seventh Tree is one of Goldfrapp's most worn concert outfits. A black and white checkered smock dress with large yarn 'buttons', it was accessorized with her signature microphone stand decorated with ribbons and dried flowers.

This dress, which Goldfrapp wore both in concert and at the 2008 Glastonbury festival, is a smock dress made of ribbons. I swoon over it's amazingness. If anyone knows how to make/get one and would like to be kind enough to fill me in, I will be eternally grateful to your kindness.

I adore the coral dress that Goldfrapp sported in many concerts. Similar to the black and white dress in shape, as well as with the pom poms made of yarn, this dress was a perfect piece for the Seventh Tree tour.

"I want to be a living work of art."

"Women of the world today all dress alike. They are like so many loaves of bread. To be beautiful one must be unhurried. Personality is needed. There is too much sameness. The world seems to have only a desire for more of this sameness. To be different is to be alone."

- The Marchesa Luisa Casati

No woman in the early half of the twentieth century was as decadently eccentric as the Marchesa Luisa Casati, the most notorious Italian heiress that has ever lived. Arguably the first true female dandy, Casati famously proclaimed that her life's goal was to become "a living work of art."

Born Luisa Adela Rosa Maria Amman in Milan in 1881 to a wealthy Italian family with royal heritage (her father was made a Count by King Umberto I), her parents death at age 15 left Luisa and her older sister Francesca the wealthiest women in Italy. She wed Camillo Casati Stampa di Soncino, Marchese di Roma in 1900. After the birth of their only daughter, Luisa left her husband and daughter in 1914 in order to reinvent herself as a patroness of the arts.

Standing at a near six-feet-tall and dressed in flamboyant European fashions, the Marchesa both delighted and horrified the aristocratic belle epoque. With her fiery red hair teased to a halo of curls and large, overwhelming green eyes - which she exaggerated with both thick rings of kohl and belladonna drops to enlarge her pupils to appear like emeralds - Luisa was like no other woman Italy had ever seen. She was deathly pale, with a cadaverous bone structure, and always kept her lips painted in her signature deep vermillion red.

After separating from her husband, the Marchesa moved into the Palazzo Venier dei Leoni, a semi-ruined mansion along the Grand Canal in Venice that would play house to all her future exploits. Tales of her wildly eccentric personality are notorious. She wore live snakes as necklaces. She had male servants wear nothing but a sheet of gold leaf in her decaying Venetian mansion, which was decorated with wax mannequins which she placed in seats at the dinner table, and Chinese lanterns throughout the vast property. Infamous for her late-night walks, the Marchesa would stroll around the city with her two pet cheetahs on diamond-studded collars and leashes, while she wore scant more than a fur coat. Around the Palazzo roamed her exotic pet cheetahs, monkeys, peacocks and birds. In Venice she threw extravagant parties - masquerade balls, gothic black masses, and performances of the Russian ballet. Rumors of her party time attire still swirl - once the Marchesa was said to have worn a freshly-slaughtered chicken as a stole. Another party had her dressed in nothing but white feathers streaked with blood dried on her arms.

During the three decades that she mesmerized the Venetian society, she had affairs with both men and women, but her constant love was writer Gabriele D'Annunzio. A celebrity among the literati set, she was painted by Augustus John, Giovanni Boldini, Romaine Brooks, Kees van Dongen, and Picasso, photographed by Cecil Beaton and Man Ray, sculpted by Paolo Troubetzkoy, sketched by Drian and Alastair, and the inspiration of Erte, Jean Cocteau, Robert de Montesquiou, and Jack Kerouac. Some 200 portraits, sculptures, and drawings were made of her, as she wished to "commission her own immortality." She was also a patroness of fashion designers Poiret and Fortuny, and served as muse to Umberto Boccioni, Fortunato Depero, and F.T. Marinetti. Her affinity for exotic animals and jewels directly inspired Cartier's panther design.

By 1930, Casati's passion for couture, expensive jewels, and other extravagancies left her virtually penniless, in debt for $25 million. An auction of her personal collections drew many bidders, including Coco Chanel. Casati then moved to London, where she resided until her death in 1957. In those years, the fallen heiress was rumored to be seen digging around Mayfair trash bins for plumes of feathers to wear in her hair. After her death, she was buried in her finest black leopard skin piece, a pair of false eyelashes, and her taxidermied Pekinese dog. On her gravestone in Brompton Cemetery is a quote from Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, "Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety."

Despite living her final days in poverty, the enigmatic persona of the Marchesa lives on and continues to inspire. She is the namesake of the fashion house Marchesa, and is a personal icon of the house's designers Georgina Chapman (who recently posed as Casati in the March issue of Harper's Bazaar) and Keren Craig. Of Casati, Chapman has said, "Perhaps if she were alive today, she would be a designer. She squandered all of her money. Millions and millions. It's a good take on what's happening now. Her life was one of complete excess; then she had to reassess everything." Other designers, such as John Galliano and Karl Lagerfeld, have looked to the late Marchesa for inspiration. Dita Von Teese has cited her, as well as Anna Piaggi and Isabella Blow, as a key style influence. She has also inspired many film characters, including Isabella Inghirami in Forse che si forse che no, La Casinelle in Dans la fete de Venise and Nouvelle Riviera, Ingrid Bergman's character in A Matter of Time, as well as Vivien Leigh's performance in La Contessa.

The life of Marchesa Luisa Casati was remarkable, and, at times, almost unbelievable. I adore her because she was truly an individual and became her life's wish: a living work of art. She lived for her self and her pleasure, and dared to do things that few others could even dream of.

I am eager to purchase the biography of her life, Infinite Variety: The Life and Legend of the Marchesa Casati, and learn more about this fascinating figure in history.

Quotes about the Marchesa:

• "The story of the Marchesa Luisa Casati's life resembles a fable for our times ... The story of Italy's richest heiress at turn of the last century, whose married aristocratic life and progeny were cast aside to indulge in a dramatically theatrical existence ... She emerged a heroine, living the fantasy, all the way to the end." - Glass Magazine
• "Her carrot-coloured hair hung in long curls. The enormous agate-black eyes seemed to be eating her thin face. Again she was a vision, a mad vision, surrounded as usual by her black and white greyhounds and a host of charming and utterly useless ornaments. But curiously enough she did not look unnatural. The fantastic garb really suited her. She was so different from other women that ordinary clothes were impossible for her." - Catherine Barjansky
• "The Marchesa lived partly as a slave to her dream world. She had two venues; her palaces and her aristocratic circles. They served as stages where everyone was usually an actor, but when she made her entrance, they automatically became spectators or background extras." - Alberto Martini

so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past

This is something that I had to write for my seminar class (*with slight edits*), in response to The Great Gatsby (1974):

When I was fourteen, I feel head-over-heels in love with this adaptation of The Great Gatsby. I hadn’t read the book, mind you, so my basic understanding of the story was that an adorably flighty socialite had an affair with a suave millionaire, all the while the guy from Law and Order just stood in the background. For years after that, I nursed an obsession for the costumes Ralph Lauren designed for the film, and frequently cited the movie as ‘incredible.’ Upon viewing this film again, my opinion of it has changed. No longer are the gorgeous costumes, perfect settings, and lush music blinding me into thinking that this film is without fault.

First of all, I think it says something that the first thing I loved about the film was the way it looked. It was still true for me that while I was watching it again I was struck by how beautiful everything and everyone was. Well, except for the actress who portrayed Myrtle – she sort of scared me. The film succeeded in capturing the shallow beauty of the time, but I think it relied too heavily on that, and, in doing so, it turned one of the most celebrated stories of the 20th century from a character study into a costume movie. It is an issue of style over substance.

Mia Farrow plays Daisy as a fragile, naïve wife in a jittery way that makes me imagine her as Rosemary Woodhouse, but instead of mod shift dresses and a Vidal Sassoon haircut she’s wearing flapper dresses and finger waves. I’m not sure that she was the most appropriate person to play Daisy, but she played the character well. Robert Redford is just too pretty (in a masculine way, of course) for me to believe him to be the guy from the wrong side of the tracks who is a bootlegger and swindler. If the perfect ‘All-American Man’ were to exist, it would be Robert Redford. More specifically, it would be Robert Redford as Jay Gatsby. Overlooking his appearance, he gives a pretty decent performance. My only critical note was that Redford carried himself throughout the film as a rich man, not as a newly rich man. I was intimidated by Redford’s Gatsby, not intrigued by him. Sam Waterston’s portrayal of Nick Carraway was a great performance, although not quite at all like the Nick I imagined in the book. Waterston’s Nick has this sort of wide-eyed look to him most of the time as though he is more baffled by this crowd than fascinated.

I think what keeps this film from being superb is the fact that it’s really long. The appeal of Fitzgerald’s novel is that it’s exciting and quick – just like the Roaring Twenties – all the while remaining poignant and beautiful. I think that the production team was too consumed with crafting every bit of the film to be just right that it came off being very structured and crafted. The director’s choice to make the film almost two and a half hours long makes the story seem stilted and sluggish. And there are way too many awkward silences between Daisy and Gatsby to consider theirs a torrid, passionate love. While I do respect Coppola’s efforts to translate as much of the original text into the screenplay, I thought that using so much of Nick’s narration and turning it into dialogue didn’t quite work.

I wonder if one day someone will remake this film in a way that properly honors the book. I’ve heard that Baz Luhrmann is to direct one that will be released by the end of next year, but I’m not sure if even he could capture the story’s essence appropriately. I am a great fan of his work, but I cannot imagine his preferences for Bollywood-esque sets and musical rapidity would really come off well in the lazy Long Island setting of this story. I used to have daydreams (during the brief time I imagined myself becoming a filmmaker) about making a new Great Gatsby – one that everyone would love. And to my future critics who will say its impossible for me to recapture a time almost a hundred years before, I will quote Gatsby: “Can’t repeat the past? Why of course you can!”

no angel could replace, my nancy with a laughing face

I was watching "There Goes My Heart," a cute little comedy from 1938 that finds an AWOL heiress taking a job as a shopgirl and taking up with a reporter who she doesn't know is on to her game. The film, similar in basic plot to "It Happened One Night," starred Virginia Bruce as the heiress and Fredric March as the reporter, also featured another face I recognized but couldn't quite place. After a bit of digging around, I figured out who it was -- my favorite little flapper Nancy Carroll.

Nancy Carroll in a 1930s publicity shot

"There Goes My Heart" ended up being the last feature film for the then-35-year-old, and unfortunately she received only received fifth billing in the film, but she had an accomplished and successful film career up until then. In the late 1920s when talkies were first gaining popularity, Nancy Carroll quickly gained popularity with audiences for her Broadway-trained singing and dancing abilities. In 1928 alone she made eight films. One of these films, "Easy Come, Easy Go," made Carroll an overnight star. During the late 1920s and early 1930s, she was said to have received more fan mail than any of her fellow Hollywood starlets at Columbia Pictures. In 1930, Carroll was nominated for a Best Actress Oscar for "The Devil's Holiday." It was during this time was she expanded her image from just a charming flapper girl to also a romantic heroine and screwball comedienne. By 1933, Nancy Carroll was an undeniable A-list star. She made films such as: "Hot Saturday" with Cary Grant, "The Woman Accused," "Laughter," and "Broken Lullaby" during just a few months.
During the mid-1930s, Carroll began to disagree with the types of roles Columbia was offering her. She was labelled uncooperative by the studio and was soon enough released by the studio from her contract. By the time she made "There Goes My Heart," Carroll was no longer an A-list star, and soon after the films completion, turned her attention towards Broadway and television work.

Read more about Nancy Carroll here.

images courtesy of corbis, google images,

louise brooks, louise brooks, you got her hair, you got her looks, lulu wants, lulu gets, burning eyes, skintight dress

My favorite silent film star (and inspiration for Katie Holmes's really ill-fitting haircut last year) Louise Brooks is what I consider to be the archetypal example of a flapper. Born Mary Louise Brooks in midwestern Cherryvale, Kansas in 1906, "Brooksie" (as her family friends called her) began studying dance at a young age before turning professional in 1922 and moving to New York. After dancing with different companies, Brooks joined the famous Ziegfeld Follies before pursuing a career in film.
She first made a splash onscreen as the vampy Marie in Howard Hawks's "A Girl in Every Port" in 1928. She followed up that film with "Beggars for Life" (also 1928) where she portrayed Nancy, an abused country girl who is on-the-run. Both these films established Louise Brooks as a talented actress, the latter film often being described the best film of her career. Other notable films include: "Diary of a Lost Girl," "Prix de Beauté," "Rolled Stockings," and "The Canary Murder Case." Arguably her most famous role was as Lulu in "Pandora's Box" (1929), a role that bore remarkable similarities to her own life. Despite her popularity and talent, Louise had a strong dislike of anything to do with Hollywood, so she would make only 24 films throughout her life. She eventually left America for Europe, appearing in German films with great reception, though she still felt foreign cinema was influenced by the repressive rules of the Hollywood system. She ended her acting career at its peak in 1938; her remaining years were spent travelling, writing, painting, and reading.
Gradually, as her interest in acting waned, her own status as a legitimate actress was eclipsed by her role as a fashion icon and personality. She became best-known for her signature bob haircut, a page boy-ish look that epitomized the flapper. She considered herself a "modern" woman, sexually liberated and independent. She refused to accept the oppressed position for women in society, often causing controversy due to her independent nature.