#Womens 1920s Costumes

[vintage-sweden]

Women in costume for a play, 1920s, Sweden.

[hairtusk]

Costume design for Women in Love (1969, dir. Ken Russell) by Shirley Russell

Via the BFI special collections

[vintage-russia]

Karelian women from village Vidlitsa,Russia (1927)

Photography by Aleksandr Belikov (1883-1940)

[markonpark]

You can't go wrong with harem pants. Vintage snapshot photo of a young woman posed in front of a palm. https://markonpark.etsy.com/listing/1581994703

[empirearchives]

Costumes for an opera singer performing as Pauline Bonaparte Borghese, Napoleon’s sister.

• Fancy Dress Costume for Ganna Walska as Pauline Borghese; Woman's Dress with Overdress.

Designer/Maker: House of Lanvin (France, Paris, founded 1885); Alex Ceslas Rzewuski (Poland, active France, 1892-1983)

Place of origin: France

Date: 1926

Medium: Silk velvet, lamé, silk jersey, metallic thread embroidery.

[redclaysoil]

some examples of palestinian women's dress c.1900-1920s, primarily ramallah and bethlehem. sourced from palestine remembered.

captions t-b, l-r:

ramallah women in traditional costume, c.1920s

woman from bethlehem, 1927

woman from bethlehem, c.1900-1910s

woman picking olives from tree, ramallah area, early 20th century

ramallah woman at gate, early 20th century

two bedouin women from beersheba-gaza-jaffa region, early 20th century

[ziseviolet]

If the coats with hoods aren’t historically accurate, what coats did Chinese people wear prior to the modern period?

Hi! Thanks for the question, and sorry for taking ages to reply!

By "coats with hoods", I assume you're referring to the doupeng/斗篷 (cloak/cape) commonly seen in modern hanfu and guzhuang (drama costumes), like the one below (x):

Chinese people did wear doupeng prior to the modern period, along with other kinds of coats. However, as I mentioned in my post here, historical Chinese doupeng did not have hoods attached to the cloak/cape. That is why many modern doupeng aren't considered historically accurate - because they have hoods attached. Below are examples of more historically accurate, hoodless doupeng (1/2):

In the image on the above left, the model is wearing a separate, detached hood/hat called fengmao/风帽 (wind hat) which was historically worn to keep warm. Below - examples of fengmao (1/2):

Historically, fengmao was often worn with doupeng when travelling during cold weather (x). Below - women wearing doupeng & fengmao in historical art (top row), and Chinese opera performers wearing doupeng & fengmao as part of their costumes (bottom row) (x):

Oftentimes the doupeng & fengmao are matching, which can give the impression that they are attached - but if you look carefully, you can see that they are separate. Below - Chinese opera costume (x):

Below are historical photos of women wearing doupeng in 1920s Beijing - note how they are hoodless (1/2):

Hooded doupeng, in contrast, are more similar to historical western cloaks, such as the below American/European cloaks from the 18th century (1/2):

The hooded doupeng of modern hanfu are likely based on those seen in guzhuang dramas - another instance of drama costumes not being the most historically accurate (x):

An example of a drama with a historically accurate depiction of doupeng & fengmao is the 1987 TV adaptation of Dream of the Red Chamber. As seen in the below images, the characters wear hoodless doupeng & occasionally matching fengmao as part of their winter wardrobe (1/2/3):

The 1994 TV adaptation of Romance of the Three Kingdoms also depicts historically accurate, hoodless doupeng & matching fengmao worn by men (x):

For more references, please check out my doupeng, fengmao, and winter wear tags.

Hope this helps!

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Darkest Desire

Based off of this nonnie request! It’s a bit scarier than intended and I do apologise for that teehee. There’s also no smut…

Blurb: With a group of friends you visit the local Halloween Scare walk, an event that is hosted annually out in the creepy plaines of Hawkins and whilst it’s masks on for the locals, it’s very much masks off for the scare actors…

Pairing: Scare Actor!Eddie x Reader

Warnings: 18+, the holiday of Halloween is mentioned, talk of blood/gore, faux blades/knives, cursing, reader is referred to as girl, use of pet names, degrading, praising, stalking (cat&mouse), sly/cocky and slightly mean!Eddie. Characters are all 20+

-

divider by @reveriesources

Crunchy dry blood orange leaves litter the earth and frost tainted wind nips at your nose and cheeks. The squeals of excited children racing by your costume clad frame fills your ears with immense joy and you giggle airily as they launch themselves into one another. Racing toward the brightly lit luminescent funfair games in hopes of winning a stuffed animal or a goldfish in a bag.

Their parents lug behind them, their attire consisting of some makeshift costume they had thrown together at the last minute in hopes of pleasing their tiny humans and earning themselves a quiet car ride without any tantrums or fuss.

Your group, on the other hand, weren’t here for the childish and conning games. You were all here for the Scare Walk.

You hadn’t agreed on a coherent group costume so it was a pick and mix of totally different genres and ideas and from an outside perspective it was abundantly clear that there was no communication on the matter whatsoever.

Steve was dressed as the main character from Nightmare On Elm Street, Freddy Kruger. Nancy clearly had helped with the makeup aspect of the costume assemble but everything else screamed Harrington. He cropped the stripped knitted jumper to better suit his athletic frame and his hair was still very much classic Steve.

Robin had taken a whole new approach, dressing up as the colourful Rubik’s Cube puzzle toy. Deriving inspiration from the colourful squares she wore a long black jumpsuit covered in humongous reflective and vibrant square sequins. She more resembled a neon glitter ball, but you gave her the benefit of the doubt.

Nancy’s body was hugged by a khaki green boiler suit that had the long legs cut off and on her back she wore a black backpack with some DIY altercations made to it. She has begged Mike to help her create her costume, and that’s how she ended up dressed as a Ghostbuster, putting a strong feminine spin on the male dominated film. You hadn’t expected anything less from Nance, she was always looking for ways to empower women and her costume made you smile. Proud.

Jonathan had chosen a much whackier costume to better fit with his personality. The pungent smell of weed radiating from his body only complimented the fluorescent green costume he was wearing and the radioactive orange bandana blindfolded over his eyes. He had opted for the beloved character from the children’s series Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’, Michelangelo. Which shouldn’t have surprised you— but it did.

And finally, you had chosen something distinctively different from your friends. You had made the bold choice to go as a flapper girl from the 1920’s, inspired by Fitzgeralds novel The Great Gatsby. It was a bold move because you paired the costume with kitten heels and although they were small you knew by the end of the night your feet would be crying out for rest. It is a Scare Walk after all. Your body was adorned by glitter and lace and the fringe of your dress tickled at the exposed skin of your legs.

It was a bit chilly tonight, but you were having too much of a ball to really hone in and pay attention to the sharp gusts of wind. Steve and Robin were arguing over whose costume was more original and whilst Robin’s was, Steve always somehow managed to argue himself into being ‘right’.

“Talk to me when you have hand sewn a bazillion sequins onto something and not just took a pair of shears to a ratty old sweater.” Robin remarks with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest and marching ahead of Steve.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that it was surprisingly difficult to cut this thing into a straight line— and it isn’t ratty or old, I literally bought it like two days ago.” Steve fires back with a squinted gaze as he follows closely behind Robin’s reflective beacon of light that seems to lead us through the dimness. Nancy grumbles inwardly to herself.

“Can you two stop bickering like babies? We’re here to have fun! So let’s go and do that!” She hooks her arm with yours, charging forward, “I heard that some people from campus are working here this year. I don’t know what they’re doing but isn’t that exciting? We might bump into them!” You admired how Nancy could make a good situation out of everything, however you didn’t quite share her enthusiasm for meeting people you already knew. Nancy was all about making and strengthening connections whereas you wanted to just have fun— judgement free.

And now that you knew that your peers were watching your every move you couldn’t help but feel your confidence shrink slightly and your words clam up. Dying in your throat before they could ever be heard aloud.

-

The walk started off relatively slow and rather boring. You kept mistaking your dress tickling your calf’s as insects running up the skin of your legs and Robin would giggle at the way your head was constantly shooting downward.

“You seem awfully jittery— is someone scared already?” She taunts, wiggling her eyebrows at you and grinning widely as she did.

You scoff in response, “Please. I’m nearly dozing off back here.”

An eerie dark silence falls over the group and the golden haze from the spooky funfair starts to fade into the background behind you as you venture further and deeper into the doom and gloom of night fall.

The smell of sweet popcorn no longer lingers in the hairs of your nostrils and a sinister chill runs down the back of your spine; like fingers tickling your bare skin.

“Are we sure we are sticking to the trail? It’s getting pretty dark out here— OH MY FUCKING GOD!!” Two little girls dressed in bloody dresses and horrifying makeup charge toward you from a nearby hidden brush. Their eyes glow a disturbing shade of white and they hold faux knives that still look devilishly real. You stumble backwards, nearly collapsing from shock however before you could fall to the ground you feel a hard body hit your back which makes you scream out in terror.

The figure laughs at you, jeering and sharp as you whip around to meet him and your hand is quick to find your chest. Your fingers claw at the fabric of your dress and you fist the fabric with a shaky grip. You’re panting, struggling for breath and the skull painted face looms over you for a moment too long; cocking his head to the side as he examines your costume.

That’s when you realise something. Something that you immediately recognised as a dark secret. A dark desire that should be kept hidden.

As his onyx orbs gleam and glare down at you, you feel a wave of heat feather your cold skin. Your core pulses between your thighs and your mouth hangs open in dreadful clarity; you were fucking turned on by this.

His chiselled face is painted to resemble a bare skull. White with inky dark circles that deepen his eye sockets and his cheekbones are defined with thick blended shadowy lines. His lips are painted black to match his contours and he has hand drawn on a stretched toothy smile and an empty nose cavity.

He doesn’t speak a single word.

He just stares at you. Almost as if he is furious with you.

And before long he drags himself away from you, like the simple task is deemed painful and impossible for him.

His torso is dressed in a fitted white button down shirt which is rolled up to his elbows and it exposes his tattooed forearms. On his legs he wears a simple but professional pair of black trousers paired with black suspenders that sling over his shoulders. On his feet he has combat boots supporting his ankles and some sort of padded device strapped around the joint of his knees.

You gawk at him as he skates across the concrete on his knees at an alarmingly fast rate toward another group of poor people; leaving sparks of light in his dust as they squirm and scream. Some of them even go as far to sprint off into the darkness away from him; which leaves the masked man cackling darkly and running after them.

“Holy shit! I had no idea he would be working here this year!” Steve slaps the palm of his hand onto your shoulder as he chuckles heavily and you pull away from him confused and slightly annoyed.

“Who is ‘he’ and how do you know him?” Steve’s laughter dies out slowly and his hands come to rest on his hips. A stance that he did often. The rest of the gang come to join you with curious expressions on their faces.

“Seriously? You don’t recognise him?” There’s a pause as you shake your head ‘no’ and Steve rolls his amber eyes dramatically, “That’s Eddie Munson, dipshit. He’s always smoking weed out in the courtyard on campus? Playing with the fire from the benson burner during chemistry— is this ringing any bells?” You shrug, crossing your arms defensively over your chest.

Is Eddie Munson someone you should know about?

“He has long, curly hair— not better than mine but hey, it’s definitely up there.” Steve’s hand smooths over his slicked back hair that is thick with gel and you laugh, now being able to form an image of Eddie in your mind.

“Ohh, the metal head? He sometimes walks around with his guitar slung over his back?” You reply as you begin to walk off after realising that you have all come to a stand still— and partially because you want to see Eddie again.

“Yeah! He is wicked with a guitar! I’ve seen him play.” Robin chirps from your left and Nancy hums on your right.

“He is pretty good.” Jonathan speaks through a mouthful of candy and you try to disguise your disgust as you unfortunately get a glimpse of the food on his tongue.

“Right…” is all you quietly reply as your eyes scan the bluish darkness. You can hear an owl hooting off in the distance and if it weren’t for the jump scares waiting for you, you would find this promenade quite peaceful.

Crickets whisper conversations from the tall blades of grass and you can see lanterns dotted up ahead of you. They cast ghoulish shadows all around the dirt path and your head twitches from side to side— trying to catch any of the silhouettes moving.

But they don’t.

You have strayed further ahead of the group, their voices hitting your ears in the form of muffled sounds but you don’t bother to wait on them. They are too busy laughing and booing at some of the scare actors whereas your heart is still palpitating at a ridiculous rate from the last scare.

Some of the actors were so gruesomely scary that you felt transported into your favourite slasher films whereas the others were just looming and ominous— more human. Humans are the scariest creatures after all. You fear your own kind in opposition to the unknown.

That’s why when the familiar skull skates over to you on his knees, you freeze this time. No fight or flight; just freeze. Your mouth gaping wide as his nose nearly brushes yours.

“Eddie.” His name is a breathless squeeze from your lungs as it leaves your mouth. You have to say his name aloud in order to ground your thundering heart. Were you excited or frightened? Maybe it was a mixture of both.

Whatever it was, the man stood in front of you wasn’t best pleased. His eyes narrow into irritated slits and his fingers toy with a piece of your hair— twirling it before yanking on it playfully.

Steve, Nancy, Robin and Jonathan all sprint past you in urgency. They screaming until their throats run raw as a deranged man with a faux chainsaw chases after them. Hot on their heels.

You and Eddie go unnoticed by them… and now…

Now you feel afraid.

“Y’know you aren’t supposed to address the actors personally, right?” He sneers through a tight jaw.

“He speaks.” You quip back sassily and Eddie huffs a distorted laugh.

“I’ve seen you around campus— even prettier up close. It’s a shame your attitude ruins that.” He circles you like a shark in water and you follow him. Twirling around makes you dizzy but Eddie’s chuckle makes your dizzier.

“Like a little lost lamb.” He coos, “Where are your cronies? Seems they’ve ditched.” His glove clad knuckle grazes your cheek and you flinch away from his soft touch. Taking a few steps back you widen the close distance between the two of you.

This causes Eddie to grin hugely; showing all of his teeth as he did.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now?” He prowls toward you however you are quick to match every one of his steps. He takes a stride forward? You take a step back.

“You could run away if you wanted… but that’ll only entice me more. Didn’t they tell you? I love the chase.” His voice is a low animalistic growl and you couldn’t understand if this was Eddie or his character talking to you. Was this all an act or was he genuinely this menacing?

“I thought you actors weren’t supposed to get this close to the public…” You hunch your shoulders upward toward your ears as you cower away from his stalky frame and he stares through you; the gears in his head turning.

You shift on the balls of your feet uncomfortably and your skin blazes beneath his intense gaze.

“You’re blushing.” He says matter of factly and suddenly you feel the need to straighten your posture and try to get as far from him as possible.

“I am not.” The lie is pathetic as it meets the frosted air and Eddie smiles eerily.

“It’s the makeup, isn’t it? You like the makeup.” His head strains back on his neck as he lets out a loud laugh, “Fuck— that’s pathetic. You must be into some really weird shit.”

“I- that’s absurd!! I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You squeal and slink your arms around your torso. Partially because you were cold but also to be protective and assertive of yourself, “You don’t even know me���“ Eddie interjects, his finger tapping impatiently against his painted lips.

“Shhhh.” You feel the soft grain of his leather gloves as they tickle your skin and Eddie’s hands fully embrace your bare shoulders, “It’s okay— I like your costume too, I suppose.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, “I mean, it’s a bit outdated and boring but hey, you look good.” He flashes you a teasing wink that is nearly enough to make your lungs implode with lack of oxygen.

“Goodbye, Munson.” You swivel on your kitten heels and briskly find the frozen dirt path again. Your head involuntarily looks over your shoulder, trying to catch sight of Eddie one last time as you leave him behind but to your total disadvantage the metal head was no longer standing where you had left him.

He too, had taken off.

And unbeknownst to you, you had just pressed play on one of Eddie Munson’s all time favourite games; Cat and mouse.

-

It was getting later and later with every passing second and you couldn’t find your friends anywhere. You had last seen them run off whilst laughing and screaming in total horror but you hadn’t seen them since.

Had they actually ditched you and went home?

Once the thought infiltrated your psyche you contemplated on cutting the scare walk short and heading back to the funfair to search for them. However, going back meant that you had to go alone and there was something devilish about that.

To your left, through a thick canvas of sweetgum trees you can hear the owl again. Hooting softly— a sound that should calm your nerves but instead it tugs on them viciously. It’s more like an emergency siren warning you. A sign for you to run and to never look back.

A man made whistle slices through the chirping of the birds and it cuts at your skin like the edge of a blade. You look left and right, frantically dancing in circles as you try to determine where it’s coming from; but you are met with nothingness.

“Eddie, if that’s you then cut it out! This isn’t funny!” Your fingernails pinch at your skin as you begin to walk panicked in the opposite direction. Never paying attention to what’s in front of you, your gaze always trailing off to the side and behind you.

That’s when you see him— the skull peering at you from a dark line of trees in the distance. Your feet come to a staggering stop as you eye him. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Was Eddie really staring back at you or were you deluding yourself?

You swallow thickly, your mouth dry as you watch him emerge from the greenery. Before your brain can compute what your body is doing you are running; charging into the fullness of the forest.

Tree branches whip and rip at your skin, causing it to redden and sting. You wince but you continue soldiering on, your shoulders barge through sticks and nettles and thorns.

Your mind had convinced you that this was real. That you were being chased by a psycho.

“Hey— hey, stop!! It’s okay! Wait—“ Eddie is close behind you, crunching twigs beneath his boots but you are quicker than he is; more frightened and resilient to get as far from him as possible. For your own safety.

“Sweetheart! Stop!” You can hear him getting frustrated as he trudges through the cluttered landscape but you can see lights shining in front of you, just up ahead, and it causes you to force your legs to quicken. Desperate to reach there.

But just before you explode onto the funfair grounds your legs give way beneath you and you crash to the ground. The palms of your hands scrape against the jagged forest floor and your dress rips against a spiked log. You thought this shit only happened in the movies— but tonight you were proven wrong.

You look behind you and your eyes well up with tears of both pure adrenaline and fear at Eddie propelling himself toward you.

You bring up your hands around your head to protect yourself as you shrink back onto the floor, over the fact that your hair is full of pine needles and your knees are scraped and bleeding.

Eddie crouches by your side, a deep frown on his face and worry in his eyes.

“Hey, sweet girl, you’re okay…” Eddie bites off his leather gloves and throws them to the soft earth. He is gentle to pry your cold hands away from your muddied face and he hisses quietly at the temperature of your skin compared to his. He examines the palms of your hands tenderly, “Ouch… this must hurt. What were you thinking?”

Your foolishness almost causes Eddie to laugh, but after witnessing the genuine anxiety plaguing your features he decides not to.

“It was too real.” You blubber, letting out a dampened sob and Eddie’s heart pangs with guilt and sorrow, “I couldn’t find anyone and… and I saw you and I just couldn’t think of anything else…”

“I’m sorry, love. C’mere, let me help you up.” Eddie is crouched down, his knees bent as he braces himself in front of your shaking frame. He outstretches his hands toward you and you take them hesitantly.

Thanks to Eddie’s strength he pulls your weak body up to meet his with ease and he hold you against his chest. Breathing softly as he tries to calm your laboured and nervous breaths.

“I really am sorry… it’s just me, ‘Kay? I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” He peppers comforting pecks into your hair and your nails claw at the back of his shirt, “It must’ve been pretty scary; being out there all alone with me.”

You nod, your mind finally calming at the sound of his lulling and gentle voice.

“I do like the makeup.” Your confession is meek and muffled against his chest, “I think there must be something wrong with me.” You laugh, managing to pull away his chest and look at him much more confidently now.

“Not at all,” Eddie grins, “I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. Very normal— it might even be considered vanilla to some people out there.” Although you have removed yourself from the skull painted man’s chest, the closeness between the both of you remains the same.

The truth was; Eddie had always admired you. Your intelligence and your cunning. You were beautiful, which was the cherry on top of your infectiously bright personality. He had noticed you at the beginning of the academic year and he was too chicken to talk to you. You both were connected through Steve but Steve never really paid attention to Eddie’s longing and begging looks toward you.

But Steve didn’t have to say anything. Not anymore. Because you could see it for yourself. You could see beneath the intricate paint on his face that Eddie felt something for you. You weren’t sure what it was; lust, a crush or plain friendship but you could see it. Feel it.

“You must think I’m a total freak.”

“You have no idea who you’re talking to, sweetheart. I am the biggest freak to have ever lived.” Eddie lets out a giddy chuckle and his hands continue to rest lightly around your body. You welcome his lingering touch and his nearness. It felt familiar. Nice.

“We both look like weirdos standing out here in the dark.” Your eyes scan around the auburn horizon of tall trees and a soft smile rests on your smudged lipstick covered lips, “People are going to think we’ve been up to no good.”

Eddie smiles, his hand coming to stroke your cheek gently and tuck some of your rouge hair behind your ear, “With how windswept your hair is, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

You both stand there, the air is clouded with electrifying tension and you can’t think of anything else other than how badly you want him to kiss you.

“I wanna take you out… on a date.” His hands cup your face, “When I’m not this caricature. I’ll just be me and you will be you. You won’t have to run from me…” His cold nose brushes the tip of yours, “I won’t have to chase you.” You can smell mint and nicotine on his breath and you have never been more intoxicated by anything in your entire life.

“What’d ya say, sweet girl? Let me take you somewhere nice so I can kiss you properly at the end of the night?” There is a slight desperation to his voice and you bite your lip to suppress a wide smile.

“I’d like you to chase me, Eddie. Chase me with daisies and a boombox and your guitar. You won’t have to run after me for long…” You are dangerously close to him now, your breath quickening as you press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. It takes every ounce of self control not to eat his entire mouth with yours, “Take me anywhere. As long as it’s with you.”

“I will.” He promises.

“And kiss me at the end of the night?” You are desperate yourself now, your eyes sparkling with moonlight as you look up into his shadowy hues.

“I will.” He strokes your hair so delicately; like you are the most precious thing he has ever handled, “I promise.”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll @purplewitchcauldron @manitskatrina @georgeweasleyslostearhq

[funniestbitchinfaerun]

Bg3 companions and what vintage fashion era I think they belong in based on vibes only

this post brought to you by my degree in costume design

Gale: with that hair he can only be from the 80s. Remember that Miami Vice guy with the white suits and pastel shirts? Gale would think he looked so cool in that fit but would be an obvious nerd anyway.

Shadowheart: 90s-early 2000s goth. she would wear those spaghetti-strap velvet dresses and chunky black platform boots. she was Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way before Ebony was.

Lae'zel: 1940s. Partly because of the militaristic nature of githyanki culture and partially because i think she would look so gorgeous in one of those Women's Army Corps uniforms with the little hats. Give Bae'zel a little hat.

Astarion: 1930s but specifically in the way of those British guys from Noel Coward plays who hang out in velvet smoking jackets all day.

Wyll: 1920s. I'm talking three-piece suits, Gatsby style. Long cigarette holder. Wingtip shoes. Doing the Lindy Hop all night. I'm swooning just thinking about it.

Karlach: Gives me serious late-70s punk energy. She needs a beat-up leather jacket with Ramones and Blondie pins and the ripped-est jeans ever. Hair can stay exactly the same.

Halsin: This one's easy. Late 60s hippie. Homemade tie-dye, flower crowns, Birkenstock sandals. Possibly one of those suede fringed jackets.

Minthara: Also 1930s in that slinky Joan Crawford femme fatale way. She'd rock those bias-cut evening dresses and fur coats. Don't worry about how she got those diamonds during the Great Depression.

Jaheira: 80s mom vibes. Her high-waisted jeans and shoulder-padded blazers conceal her superspy badassery.

Minsc: 1950s greaser in the wholesomest way imaginable. Don't fight me on this. Boo has a tiny leather jacket of his own.

[marzipanandminutiae]

"you can't criticize the costuming on XYZ period drama because it's low-budget!!!"

[note: the following does not apply to like...community theatre. I'm talking about low-budget shows on network television or low-budget movies that get wide release]

okay so why is the adult women's hair still down

that's my barometer for Why The Costumes Suck

bobby pins are not expensive. the action of putting the hair up is essentially already built into the production budget- hairdressers have to be paid, but they have to be paid to do those electric-iron curls, too. even a quick generic bun would show willing, and a genuine interest in at least TRYING to make this pre-1920s (tbh pre-1960s for long hair worn entirely loose and vaguely natural-looking, but I'll let it slide) piece look semi-correct

if the hair is down, it's not about the budget. they just genuinely don't care. and therefore I don't have to Think Of The Poor Penny-Pinching Designers when I critique their asses

[lackadaisycats]

I’m so sorry if you’ve already answered this somewhere, but how do you design your characters?

I’ve been trying to make an OC from the prohibition era and it turns out there’s basically nothing to work with for men’s outfits, so I’m curious how you made this many that look unique and fitting to the characters

There is so much to work with, though! You will tend to find more of a focus on variety in women's fashion, but there is still quite a lot of menswear to ogle too. I suppose it's just a matter of searching out ideas and inspiration in the rights corners. Here are a few suggestions:

Old Clothing Catalogues -

Collections from Sears-Roebuck and other popular clothing retailers are pretty easy to find compiled into relatively inexpensive books, or just floating online.

A fair bit of it is in the public domain now.

--Here's an entire 1922 catalogue of stuff to flip through.

-----------------

Contemporary Artwork -

Some phenomenal illustrators were working in this field amidst the "Golden Age of Illustration" and featured prominently on the covers of magazines and on the ads inside. There was a lot of emphasis on fashion.

Collier's and The Saturday Evening Post are a couple of the more prominent and easily searchable resources. The costuming on the cover art always has a lot of personality.

There's Rockwell, of course, and it's almost impossible to go wrong with J. C. Leyendecker. He's probably best known for his Arrow Collar ad art, but even his sock ads are like…

There were numerous other amazing and influential illustrators working at the time too. Here's a list of some of them. Here's a bonus Henry Raleigh featuring some of his fabulously-dressed people.

-----------------

Blogs and Articles -

There are so many of them! If you want historical accuracy, be wary of write-ups pulling all of their references from film and television. There's nothing wrong with using those for inspiration if you aren't too concerned with historicity, but there are some pretty comprehensive and well-researched things out there with more of an eye on actual fashion history too:

--Gentleman's Gazette - What Men Really Wore in the 1920s

--The Fashionisto - 1920s Men's Fashion

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Digital Collections -

There are numerous digital historic image collections stemming from universities, museums, libraries, and the government that are free to peruse too.

--The Metropolitan Museum has a searchable catalog of exhibits that includes fashion and photos

--Here's some things from the New York Public Library

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Photos at Large -

If you aren't sure where to start, image searching for any of Hollywood's early celebrities will typically turn up a bevy of production stills and promotional photography featuring a variety of fashions. Here's a random Getty images search for Harold Lloyd. A lot of standard 3 piece suits, but a lot of stuff with added character too.

Photography was generally quite accessible by the 1920s, though, and you can find a lot of authentic photos of people from all walks of life, out in the wild wearing all sorts of clothes.

This is by no means the limit to the resources available, but hopefully it'll provide some leaping-off points for designing looks for your characters!

[recycledmoviecostumes]

Helen Rose frequently designed costumes for period films that were much more contemporary in taste than the period they were supposed to depict. Good News is set in 1927, and while the costumes do include some references to the period, the women’s costumes conform to the 1940s silhouette with a defined bust, fitted torso, and shoulder pads. This dress is the only one in the film that refers to the beaded chemise dresses of the 1920s.

The dress is a deliberate stand-out and features in the film’s plot line. New sorority member Pat McClellan is reprimanded for asking a sorority sister to fix the dress and informed it is much too showy for a party at the sorority house. However, when she reveals herself as an ego-centric, social climbing gold-digger, she is told the dress is perfectly suited to her, and she makes her dramatic entrance down the staircase to a bevy of ogling football players.

This distinctive piece was used again in a musical number in the 1952 classic Singin’ in the Rain!

To see more costumes from Singin' in the Rain, visit our website!

Costume Credit: Glenn P, Pygartheangel

Follow: Website | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest | Instagram

[useless-catalanfacts]

A group of weeders standing in a rice field in Amposta (Terres de l'Ebre, Catalonia). I couldn't find the date but it's most likely from the 1920s-1940s. Photo from Museu de les Terres de l'Ebre.

This photo is interesting because it shows the traditional clothes that women from the Ebro Delta wore until the 20th century. It's very different from the image most people think of when we imagine "traditional women's clothes". The truth is that many countries (including ours when it comes to the pubilla and hereu outfit) fixed their "national costume" in the early 1900s, taking the upper class formal clothes as "the traditional clothes". However, that is not representative of the country in general, particularly of the working classes, nor of the many local variations that are always found around a country.

These weeders are wearing saragüells, which are a kind of tight-fitting trousers made of a light material that can dry easily. On top of this trousers, they wore a skirt that they rolled up to their waist. The reason behind this being the usual work clothes for women in the Ebro Delta area is because it's an area where, since 1860, most people worked in the agriculture of rice. Rice is grown in water, so they worked with their feet and lower part of legs in the water. (Ah, and by the way, yes, of course most women historically worked outside of the home, too.)

Now, here's why I find this interesting: the various dictatorships of Spain who called themselves "traditionalist" (Primo de Rivera's and Franco's) and their followers for many years forbid women from wearing trousers in many ambits or raged against women in trousers for being immoral. How is it possible that "traditionalists" said that, when there are traditional/historical clothes for women that include trousers? Don't "traditionalists" stand for keeping traditions? Well, let's hear the words of one of the movement's founders:

“For the authentic revolutionary conservative, what really counts is to be faithful not to past forms and institutions, but rather to principles of which such forms and institutions have been particular expressions, adequate for a specific period of time and in a specific geographical area.” Julius Evola, Men Among the Ruins: Post-War Reflections of a Radical Traditionalist.

This was said by Julius Evola (1898-1974), one of the ideologues of traditionalism. What he's saying here is that the point of traditionalism is not to be faithful to what the past or the tradition really was like; the point of traditionalism is to have some a priori beliefs and then look back in history and cherry-pick some places where that was the case. History is long and includes millennia of different cultures, you're bound to find pretty much everything at some point, and easily those ideas that have been the status quo in the immediate previous years (which is what they defend). This is why traditionalists defend that European powers are the heirs of Imperial Rome and have claims on other countries as such, but consider things that were completely normal in Ancient Roman culture (homosexuality, multi-racial cities, racial mixing) are not part of what they defend. It was never about following a real tradition or history, that was just an excuse.

These so-called "traditionalist" governments also pick one singular culture from the whole area instead of allowing each area to continue their traditional way of life. In the case of the Spanish dictatorships, exterminating the traditional customs, languages and cultural elements of the nations whose land Spain occupies (Catalans, Basques, Galicians, Aranese...) was a priority. They banned the languages, holidays, songs, and more. At the same time, they imposed one singular language (Spanish), religion (Catholicism), and the holidays, traditions (like bull-fighting), music, etc. of the Spanish with an emphasis on folklore from Andalusia (Southern Spain).

As a historian, it saddens me when people believe that what traditionalists say is really what the past was like, and nowhere do I see more lies than in what the "tradwife" movement have been led to believe. The real past was so much more interesting.

And speaking of trousers... Did you know that France had an 18th-century law that forbid women from wearing trousers which wasn't repealed until 2013? In 1972, the French politician Michèle Alliot-Marie was banned from entering the French Parliament because she was committing the crime of wearing trousers!

[vintage-russia]

Karelian women from village Vidlitsa,Russia (1927)

Photography by Aleksandr Belikov (1883-1940)

[bananadramaaa]

Hello, my source of inspiration. Thank you for fueling my love for the jazz era with each drawing💙

Where are you looking for information about the 20s? maybe you can recommend books, lectures on YouTube or something else?

Hi! Thank you🥺💜 It's gonna be a looong post I'm afraid.

Before I answer your question I would like to clarify that in my drawings I depict that era in a more... Theatrical way?? I'm doing it more hyperbolically, like if you would see it in a 1920s film or show because most of my inspiration comes from films of that era. Visually speaking. In my defense, I've worked as a costume designer assistant in theater, so there is a need in me to add drama I'm afraid. In reality, it was less makeup and fewer sparkles if that makes sense.

And now to your question. If we're talking about fashion, I simply watched tutorials on YouTube like 'accurate 1920s makeup' or 'dressing like it's 1920s'. My brain works better if I see the process than reading it in an article. I've watched some videos from fashion historians too, so I can understand this period better (I'm not American; the 1920s were quite different in the place where I grew up). So I'll put a few YouTube links that I've watched:

A short video about 1920s women's fashion & 1920s footage + 1

About men's fashion

1920s Makeup & Hairstyles(1920s footage)

About the articles, I really like the Fashion History Timeline website. There I search for information about fashion history. It provides articles and book references too. My other source is basically photos and pictures from that era that I could find on the internet.

[mrmousetolliver]

Images 1&2 : "Assorted Fondant" notebook (c.1930's) Images 2&3: Note Book seven, study of male nudes in various poses, pen and wash, 1930s. Images 4&5: Sketches of nude figures in various poses from Themes and Variations note book, pen and wash, 1930s. Image 7 : Albert (seated) and his partner George Collins. Albert Wainwright was a prolific artist who, like many artists, never received the recognition he deserved during his life time. While Wainwright only lived to the relatively young age of 45, he made a very valuable contribution to the art scene of the 1920s and 30s and is arguably one of the most talented illustrators at work in Britain at the time. He left a body of work including watercolors, drawings, painted ceramics and costume and theatre designs to his life long partner George Collins. After George’s death in 1985 the collection of works were left to family members and it is with great pleasure that a large part of the collection has been re discovered. Wainwright often refers to his sexual identity as a gay man in his work and his sketchbooks are not only filled with studies of landscape views and women but also endless beautifully observed studies of athletic male figures or men in uniforms at rest or play. These sketchbooks were personal and private documents and not intended for public view. It is also noted that much of his work contain many secret symbols that allude to his own sexual identity and the fact that these subtle references are hidden reflect the covert nature of gay culture and a rare document of gay love in Britain of the 1920s and 30s.(Source: Fieldings Auctioneers Ltd.)