My first photographic “oh, dear” happened in 3rd grade. I’m sure if my mother had known I’d planned to wear my junior fire marshal badge proudly on my pretty school dress on school picture day, she would have discouraged it. She didn’t, I did, and now it’s immortalized.
We’ll hasten over the time I wore my mother’s 1955 yellow chiffon garden party dress with loafers for 6th grade graduation. Boy, was SHE surprised when she showed up in the audience and realized I’d slipped out of the house in that rig….
And the high school club photo that featured me in vintage wool tuxedo pants with her pretty cotton Hawaiian tiki god print bandeau. The Follow the Fleet-style rib-hugging vintage sweater that I thought made me look like Ginger Rogers and made everyone else think I looked like I didn’t know how to work a washing machine.
Then there was the teeny gingham top that made my school picnic photo look as if it were lenticular… Well, let’s go right to the next memorable school portrait that baffled my long-suffering folks. How was I supposed to know that my blindingly white sweater would make the nice senior portraits photographer groan and wave me off the stool to go find something darker? Quick-thinking me borrowed a well-worn black turtleneck from my pal David. That’s what you’ll see me wearing in the High Point High School yearbook from never-you-mind-what-year. To everyone’s amusement, David hung around shirtless until I was done with his shirt. It was the 70s, okay? No, that’s not him, but nice picture, huh?
Readers, I was never, ever ready for my close-up until I got a makeover from my high school drama coach, Mr. Anazone–and fell in love with Glen Morgan. Glen was a senior, an engaging beanpole with floppy long blonde hair who wore long striped scarves and had played the king in Once Upon a Mattress as if he were Harpo.
Given my idolization of the Marx Brothers and my obvious predilection for tall boys, Glen was the people’s choice for Kay’s first big league crush. So, when I accompanied my pal Terry to auditions for the part of the dowager mother in the spring play and saw Glen there, I pulled an “All About Eve” and snagged the part right out from under her using my secret weapon, a dead-on impression of Margaret Dumont.
Despite my typical attire of a vintage Hawaiian sheath dress and Converse all-stars, I got the part–the first in a long series of forbidding mothers, queens, maiden aunts, witches, and wise-cracking secretary roles.
Mr. Anzalone saw something in me that had eluded everyone else. For my first role as a snooty society dame, he astutely costumed me into a tailored 1940′s navy blue suit and pulled my waist-length hair up into a chic chignon, defined my lips in Revlon’s Love That Red, and thrust my feet into sleek pumps. When I emerged from the dressing room, the rest of the cast (including Glen!) first went quiet, then whooped in awe and admiration.
That’s when the transformative power of great clothes struck me like Thor’s hammer. I felt like a movie star and, for the first time, ready to face any camera with confidence.
Which leads us to today’s topic: Paparazzi-proof clothes that make you feel ready for any close-up.
Doesn’t matter if it’s a selfie at the Turner Classic Movies Film Festival (TCMFF) or any other encounter with the oft-times merciless camera, the right clothes can equip you to face down the lens with poise and a smile.
The lynchpin garment
If you read my pre-TCMFF post last year about packing for Tinseltown, you may recall that I pack very light. That’s not smugness as much as the very real knowledge that I have to schlep whatever I pack.
This self-restricted limit means every garment has to be incredibly multi-tasking, especially the “topper”–jacket, sweater, coat, blazer…that’s the lynchpin pick.
Visitors to LA know So-Cal weather is by no means “as advertised” in ditties.
It can be rainy or cool, so a versatile topper is key. This ONE jacket has to be almost magical.
The following criteria for this vital piece of clothing is based on years of dressing literally hundreds of people in my capacity as a costumer and retail salesgal, 3 trips to LA for this wonderful film festival, and many, many trips to the woodshed of public opinion (see above) about what clothing works best for portraits from red-carpet moments to red-eye party shots.
To make the cut, my lynchpin topper faces a daunting criteria. It must be….
Amazingly versatile: This wizardly piece will be worn on the plane for polish (see this post about how to dress for success as you travel to the TCMFF) and at events for extra snap.
A woman in a pair of pants and a tee shirt is dressed. A woman in pants, a tee, and a 3rd piece, like a tailored blazer, is dressing like she means it.
It might have to fill in as a pool cover-up or bathrobe, too. It’s happened.
Fit deliciously: I admire those who can toss on a pup-tent’s worth of canvas and call it an anorak, but a more fitted jacket befits my age, gender, and self-image. I don’t want some magnanimous soul to fling me a coin as I stand in line or snap my picture as an example of LA “street life.”
Photograph well and flatteringly: In addition to the endless stream of selfies and group shots, you might just get picked to be interviewed by Robert Osborne or Ben Mankiewicz.
Won’t you be glad you look spiffy then, especially as you’ll probably use the stills from your big moment as your cellphone screenshot *and* your Christmas card.
That said, be aware of busy patterns, monster plaids, narrow stripes or anything by Missoni–patterns that complex can look as if they were crawling over you.
Strobe-white garments can flare out video cameras, too, so avoid those that look like they were purchased from the Star Trek auction. Simple is best.
Cozy and chic: Those 1920’s advertisements for Grauman’s being “air-chilled” theaters weren’t kidding around. A bitsy bolero sweater isn’t going to cut it once that relentless Yukon Vortex kicks in.
Make sure your pashmina (you ARE bringing one, right?) harmonizes with your topper for maximum impact, since you’ll be wrapping it up around your chin like Old Marley by reel four of Gone With the Wind. Goosebumps never photograph well.
Visible/noteworthy: When I’m standing in a sea of reporters, most of whom, male and female, are wearing black tee shirts, baggy cargo pants/shorts, and baseball caps, I’ll be a standout in my vintage chartreuse jacket and flashy 1940’s brooch.
Last year’s dazzler stopped almost every octogenarian woman in her tracks as they wheeled, walked, and waved their way along on the red carpet. They had to come close for a look-see.
Like magnificent magpies, they couldn’t resist stopping to examine my sparkly pin, which gave me a great chance to snap a picture and snag a quote or two.
Keyed to my business brand: Since I’m constantly handing out my Movie Star Makeover postcards and business cards, it’s hardly seemly for me to get my picture taken in dog-washing get-up while preaching the gospel of intentional style.
My Star Style: It’s hard not to be conscious of your outsider status in LA when twenty-somethings in sky-high Jimmy Choos and micro-minis with waterfalls of perfectly styled hair stomp by. I, however, am NOT a “cool girl”…I am a Naturally Charming Star Style with Smartly Tailored rising…
So it’s wide-legged trousers and fitted tops for me, a sophisticated take on vintage Hollywood.
Don’t ‘go native’ if it’s not your style. You’ll feel like you weren’t really there and your photographs will reflect your basic unease.
Once I’ve managed to find a garment that can stand up to that gauntlet, I usually buy two of them and live in them until they’re tattered. I looked high and low for a “new” jacket to take the place of my now-familiar chartreuse 1940’s swing jacket. Nothing even came close. So, TCM attendees, brace yourselves. You’ll probably see me wearing that jacket in nearly every photo.
If this is the case with you too, how do you keep from wanting to scream when you see yourself in the same doggone thing in every picture?
For wardrobe dilemmas like these, I’ve got it easy. I just call my eldest daughter.
Naomi has a scathingly brilliant way of cutting through the clutter as I ping my clothing ideas off her. Her simple question when packing a travel wardrobe is: Who do I want to be on this trip?
She’s been known to adopt the bohemian style of jet-set heiress Talitha Getty in her rich hippie days,
mirror some Bond Girl chic…
…or arrange her travel wardrobe to resemble that of TCM Essentials co-host Drew Barrymore.
So, when she asked me who I was channeling this year, I thought about my lynchpin jacket. It was colorful, 40′s, cheerful, dynamic, energetic, warm, friendly…I suddenly envisioned Esther Williams. With that thought, my wardrobe fell into place
Esther’s look is all of the above. She is a Naturally Charming Star Style who easily carries off Smartly Tailored accents when Irene took the costuming helm. When I think of the costumes and sets from her 1940′s-1950′s films, I knew just what colors I should be on the lookout for: saturated Technicolor hues of deep pine green, sparked with paprika, sage, and chartreuse, anchored with dove gray and white.
I wouldn’t be trying to LOOK like Esther, just allowing her to inspire me. The shapes would be fitted and feminine without being frilly–sweetheart necklines, ruched waists, deep-V necks–decidedly female without the frou-frou.
Now, rather than stand in front of my closet, lost in a welter of palettes, I could easily eliminate clothes that didn’t reinforce my guiding star style. (See what I mean here in this post about Esther’s trademark color palette.) I was much closer to being ready for my TCMFF camera moments!
Need another example? Let’s say you’re a Passionate Beauty and Marilyn Monroe is your pick.
You’d reach for fitted scoop-neck tops of deep, vivid solid colors, or maybe a Pucci print and always an emphasis on the waist and hips, like a nicely fitted pair of capris or ankle pants with ballet flats or kitten-heeled sandals. (Here’s a shot of MM’s actual Pucci collection when they went up for auction. Wowser, right?)
Your topper might be a leopard print trench or fuzzy wrap-around sweater; your pashmina might be a vivid hot pink cashmere, for sheer sensuality! See what I mean?
Sensational selfies
Okay, now that you’ve secured your indispensable topper and fitted it into your well-edited travel wardrobe, here’s how to make sure it’s shown to its best advantage.
Love ‘em or hate ‘em, sometimes a selfie is the only way you’re going to get that shot with your favorite classic star. So you’ve got to know how to make the most of it.
Unless you’re Horst or George Hurrell, you can probably use these top 5 tips for taking great selfies.
1. Check yourself out in a mirror before you let anyone take your picture–even you!
Look for lipstick on your teeth, hair that’s gone wonky, chocolate around your mouth, etc. A quick pat of powder, a slick of gloss, a whisk of a combing…it only takes a second and you’ll be glad you did it. (For tips on getting your makeup right, let’s check in with a Hollywood makeup artist I met at last year’s TCMFF.)
2. Watch the lighting and the background.
Is there a plant growing out of your head? Is the lighting awful (shout-out Hollywood Roosevelt lobby…)? See if you can arrange something better.
3. Know your best side. Ask Claudette Colbert in this archived post on putting your best face forward.
Strike a pose..
…squinch your eyes (you instantly look more sincere and less crazed), and smile.
Try something funny or stand still, and take the shot.
4. Take more than 1 shot; it gives you the best chance of getting a good one.
Oh, and check your batteries and “bars” too…nothing like bumping into Maureen O’Hara or Rod Taylor at Musso & Frank’s only to discover you have NO battery left.
5. Remember whatever is closest to the camera looks bigger. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions here, but I frankly don’t like my upper arm to look like a Christmas ham or my nose to look like W.C Field’s.
TCMFFantastic
Now, you’re ready for anything Hollywood throws at you!
You’ve got a topper with style and a wardrobe that’s flattering and practical.
So, smile, honey. You’re going Hollywood!