Today the Museum is featuring a flash-in-the-pan brand from the 1940s. Shem el Nessim was a very short-lived line, lasting only about 6 months during the second half of 1946. I couldn’t find much info, but one thing I can say is that it’s not related to the fragrance of the same name by British perfumer Grossmith. The collection consisted of a lipstick (six shades), lipstick set with 2 refills, face powder, and a face cream. All were advertised as being plated in 14kt gold.
Let’s talk about the cultural appropriation aspects first. Shem el Nessim appears to be an incorrect, or at least outdated, spelling of Sham el Nessim, a roughly 5,000 year old Egyptian festival/holiday that is celebrated the day after Orthodox Easter (which, this year is today…yes, I’ve been planning this post for a while). The day marks the beginning of spring and is accompanied by several traditions, including dyeing eggs and enjoying picnics and other outdoor activities. Shem el Nessim loosely translates to “smelling the breeze”. Why Grossmith spelled Shem with an “e” is beyond me, but it seems this new brand did too. And while Grossmith engaged in cultural appropriation to market this fragrance and others, they came relatively close to understanding the holiday and translating it correctly. The Shem el Nessim cosmetics line, meanwhile, claimed it was Arabic for “bloom of youth,” which is totally off. Also, the name of one of the three lipstick shades appears to be nonsense. “Garfoz” does not seem to be an actual word in any language.
Next, the face cream container is shaped like an “Aladdin lamp”?! No information turned up about the brand’s founder, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say that Shem el Nessim was started by a white American who wanted to capitalize on Western fantasies of the “exotic” Middle East. It’s certainly an eye-catching design for a face cream , but completely inappropriate for a brand with no roots in or discernible connection to Egyptian or Middle Eastern heritage. Not to mention that if the entire jar was filled, it would be cumbersome to dig out product from the pointy front part of it. What’s even weirder is the attempt to connect the ancient Middle East to modern-day Hollywood, where the company was headquartered (8874 Sunset Blvd, to be precise.)
In addition to using an existing product name, Shem el Nessim may have been looking at Amor Skin’s lamp-shaped face cream, which debuted in 1927. It seems Amor Skin’s lamp was originally a “Pompeiian” design, but by 1929 they were largely marketing it as an Aladdin Lamp.* Additionally, in the fall of 1946 Amor Skin heavily increased their advertising for the lamp and emphasized the Aladdin aspect, perhaps as a direct response to Shem el Nessim. Of course, the uptick in advertising may have been a simple coincidence, as Amor Skin had just returned to the market in the fall of 1946 after temporarily shutting down production during the war.
According to an October 1946 article in WWD, the collection, or at least the lamp, was allegedly designed by a “Viennese sculptor” named Peticolas. After a fairly exhaustive search, it seems this artist did not exist. There was a Sherry (Sherman) Peticolas who lived in L.A. and was active in the 1930s-40s, but as far as I know he was American, not Austrian. Additionally, his style was markedly different from the pieces in the Shem el Nessim line, and I couldn’t find a record of Peticolas designing cosmetics. (image from commons.wikimedia.org)
So while it’s certainly possible Peticolas was involved in the design, there’s no concrete evidence to confirm. As of July 1946 Shem el Nessim had hired advertising agency Klitten and Thomas, so I’m wondering if the claims about the meaning of Shem el Nessim and the Peticolas design in the ad copy were entirely their doing. In any case, there doesn’t seem to be any mention of Shem el Nessim after December 1946. I’m guessing Grossmith put a stop to the company very quickly, as the Shem el Nessim fragrance was most likely trademarked, and perhaps Amor Skin also told them to back off. Or it could have happened in the reverse: Shem el Nessim’s owner(s) were unaware of either the Grossmith fragrance or Amor Skin lamp when creating the line, quickly realized their missteps and abandoned the business. What’s interesting is that the Shem el Nessim Sales Co. did not seem to change names, they simply disappeared. Oh, if only all businesses that ripped off existing brand names (knowingly or not) would go away forever…the world would be much better off, yes? I also suspect the price points for a fledgling brand that was not an offshoot of a fashion/perfume house or other well-known entity were too high. A more established brand, or one started by a big fashion name or celebrity might have had better luck charging the 2022 equivalent of $110 for a lipstick. Per the ad copy, Shem el Nessim was intended to be “exclusive” and not mass market, but that may not have been a profitable tactic to start with.
Cultural appropriation and unoriginal name aside, the Shem el Nessim lipstick case remains a unique specimen of makeup design. The style recalls both classical busts and Surrealist art, with a dash of Camille Claudel in the graceful tilt of the head, dreamy, far-away expression and rendering of the hair. It could also be considered a more sophisticated and artistic precursor to the doll-shaped lipsticks that would prove popular some 15-20 years later.
Finally, while I haven’t seen actual photos of the other items, the lipstick looks to be the most elegant, albeit impractical, design – certainly more visually appealing than the powder urn (the poor woman looks decapitated) and lamp (overtly culturally appropriative and the figure’s silhouette and pose are a bit tacky).
Thoughts? If anyone can contribute any other information on this brand I’m all ears. 🙂
*While nearly all of the newspaper ads between 1946 and 1950 referred to the Amor Skin lamp as Aladdin’s, a handful of them along with the November 1946 issue of Drug and Cosmetic Industry used the previous Pompeiian description.
On average, the Museum receives one inquiry a week. It doesn’t seem like much, but if it’s something that can’t be identified easily or a broad question about historic trends, they can take up quite a bit of time. Here are a handful of inquiries I worked on over the past year or so.
First, we have some questions about wartime makeup. One of the Museum’s Instagram followers asked about this lovely set she had purchased on eBay. She suggested it may have been a kit provided to service women during the war.
The following week, by pure coincidence, another person got in touch with an identical kit in red.
As it turns out, the hunch from the tan kit’s owner was spot-on: this is Elizabeth Arden’s service kit, which dates to about 1939-1956. I don’t think the company provided them for free, but it seems like the kit with Stop Red was recommended specifically for the women in the Auxiliary Fire Service in the UK, at least initially. A book called the Home Front Pocket Manual contains an excerpt from the Nov. 1939 issue of a British publication called Britannia and Eve, and it mentions the set.
The kit was sold in Canada starting around 1942 and continued to be sold there into the 1950s, but was advertised just as a regular travel kit for the “busy” woman, not service women. It also looks like the red leather was not available until 1942. In any case, it’s a compelling piece of wartime women’s history – kits were actually created to help women adhere to the “beauty is your duty” motto.
So this was mostly solved…except for the number that appeared on both kits. If anyone knows what “R.D. 1941” means please get in touch. The only possibly relevant thing I found was “Reserve Decoration” which is an award for the Royal Navy Reserve in the UK, but it doesn’t seem like that would be appropriate to put on this particular kit. Update, September 2024: a very kind reader wrote and explained that R.D. most likely referred to Registered Design. That makes sense!
Next up, a vintage enthusiast and YouTuber, Katie May, asked about the use of gravy browning as leg makeup during the war. As silk and nylons were scarce, liquid leg makeup was sold as a substitute for stockings.
But in the UK, where shortages were even more dire and cosmetics prohibitively expensive, more women tried to DIY liquid stockings through a number of substances. According to some sources, ladies tested out a bunch of things to mimic the look of stockings. Along with gravy browning, cocoa, wet sand, tea, iodine, walnut juice and brown shoe polish were all experimented with. Katie wanted to know how the gravy was applied and whether it was a widespread trend. I’m afraid I couldn’t turn up much concrete information given the limited access I have to resources, not to mention I know very little of where to begin looking for sources on WWII history in the UK. This BBC archive provides a brief 1st person mention of the stockings, but my findings consisted mostly of newspaper snippets and book excerpts, which may not be reliable and don’t provide exact figures as to how many women were actually partaking in the practice.
So it’s really difficult to say how widespread DIY leg makeup was, at least on a regular basis. It must have been so cumbersome to mix and apply, and it definitely was not waterproof. Even the expensive pre-made leg makeup sold by cosmetic companies were not necessarily waterproof formulas despite their advertising. The gravy browning in particular was rumored to attract dogs and flies.I can’t envision women applying it themselves or going to the leg makeup “bars” to have others apply it every day, but maybe they did. It was a very different time; one woman remarked that it was “embarrassing” to go without stockings, so perhaps the social stigma was strong enough to force women to try DIY alternatives, and the cosmetics shortage in the UK was a lot worse than in the U.S. As for face makeup, the same ideas apply – I’m skeptical of how widespread DIY makeup was, but it seems most women in the UK could not afford cosmetics during the war even if they were readily available (which, again, they weren’t…lots of shortages. While the UK government believed that cosmetics boosted morale so they didn’t completely stop producing makeup, it was still difficult to obtain.) I must point out that men enjoyed making fun of us silly, shallow women’s efforts to keep up with the constant societal expectation of beauty. And of course, they always had it worse. I can’t roll my eyes hard enough at these clippings.
In any case, some sources state that beetroot juice was substituted for lip makeup and blush, shoe polish or soot (!) for mascara, and starch for face powder (NOT flour, as proposed by the sexist windbag above). Some women melted down whatever was left of their existing lipsticks and mixed them with Vaseline to make a balm. The two sources I found to be most useful on DIY makeup were 1940s Fashion by Fiona Kay and A People’s War by Peter Lewis. Madeleine Marsh’s book Compacts and Cosmetics (p.124) and Geoffrey Jones’s Beauty Imagined (p. 136) also have brief mentions of DIY wartime makeup. Finally, I also recommended to Katie that she reach out to Kate Thompson, who has written several historical fiction novels about women who worked at the Yardley cosmetics factory in the UK during the war, and my understanding is that she’s done quite a bit of research into WWII makeup. Anyway, Katie bravely tried out the gravy browning and a bunch of other homemade wartime beauty substitutes! Kudos to her for re-creating these unusual and rather messy cosmetic practices.
Next, an antique store owner asked about some old cosmetics sales kits by the name of Velens that she had come across. I didn’t turn up much on the brand’s products, but here’s what I was able to find. The company was founded in 1930 by a Swedish ex-pat named Leo B. Selberg. Selberg had a background in chemistry and previously worked for Luzier, another cosmetics brand at the time. The Velen’s Educational Cosmetics name was copyrighted that same year, as well as something called “Paul Velen’s Color Harmony Chart”. As it turns out, a man by the name of Paul Velen (based in Kansas) had actually come up with all the formulas prior to Selberg’s involvement. The relationship between Selberg and Velen isn’t clear; however, from newspaper clippings it seems that before moving to Missouri, Selberg socialized frequently with an older brother of Paul, A.R. (Reuben) Velen, so I’m assuming they knew each other. Paul also had a degree in chemistry, although what inspired him to start a beauty business remains a mystery. Maybe Leo approached Paul about being the owner of the business while continuing to sell under the Velen name and keeping the formulas, but it doesn’t seem like either of them were too involved/hands on with the line. Selberg sold Velen’s in 1959 to a company called Greer and Associates, but I couldn’t find any mention of Velen’s Cosmetics after 1955 so it may have been on its last legs by that point anyway. Paul Velen died in May of 1969 at the age of 68; Selberg in 1979 at the age of 83. There was also a man named Albert Colborn who served briefly as Chairman of the Board of Velen’s Cosmetics from 1930-1933 and started his own beauty company called the Modernistic Beauty Service in 1933, but I couldn’t turn up much about him other than his obituary.
Anyway, the Velen’s line wasn’t used for training at beauty schools but rather for demonstrations in salons to sell to salon customers. In fact, it was almost exclusively sold in salons with some direct sales (door-to-door/traveling) agents, not in department or drug stores. The “educational” part of the name meant that beauty salon employees would “educate” their clientele on the best products for them and how to apply them. It looks like it was sold primarily in the Midwest and Texas, with some salons as far away as California and New Hampshire, which is why it’s a little surprising there aren’t more records or product photos. So this was quite a find and an interesting tidbit.
Skipping ahead to the late 1950s, the Museum received a few questions about Helena Rubinstein’s Mascara-Matic. First, someone sent in a box with some adorable packaging, which was released for the holiday season in 1958.
I couldn’t find a magazine ad, but there were a couple of newspaper ads. A year later Rubinstein released another holiday edition of Mascara-Matic with a Christmas ornament design on the box. As far as I know the “harlequin” style in the photos sent in to the Museum was only released in 1958, and it doesn’t seem like Rubinstein released any other holiday edition boxes of Mascara-Matic except for 1958 and 1959.
Then another person wrote in asking about the value of an original Helena Rubinstein Mascara-Matic, believing that the one she had found was from its first production run and worth a whopping £3,000 according to this Daily Mail article. It’s hard to say with certainty whether any Mascara-Matics are from the first run. Perhaps those had the patent number and everything after that was marked “waterproof” or did not have any markings around the middle. However, the one I purchased for the Museum has the patent number but also came with a refill, and refills were not sold until 1958, a year after the mascara’s debut. Even if the one the person had was original, it’s not clear where the figure of £3,000 comes from. The Museum does not do valuations, but I will say Mascara-Matics, either with patent numbers or marked “waterproof” typically sell for about $50 so I can’t see an original being worth 60 times more, unless there was proof it belonged to a celebrity or something like that. There was also a listing for one with a patent number at eBay – from what I can tell it was unsold with a starting bid of £49.95. If it was in fact sold, again, I can’t see it going for £3,000 even in mint condition.
Lastly, another vintage store owner inquired about a skincare kit sold by blender brand Osterizer. (There are larger photos of the jars at Etsy.)
Based on the coupon included in the photo and some newspaper ads it was sold between 1971 and 1975. It looked like quite the gimmick. There wasn’t a ton of information on it, but it seems Oster was trying to cash in on the “natural” cosmetics trend of the late ’60s/early ’70s and sold these kits for those who already had a blender and wanted to make their own organic skincare with fresh ingredients.
But who really needs brand name pink jars and labels for homemade cosmetics? One could go to any craft store and get their own supplies. And while Google didn’t exist back then, the recipes would have been pretty easy to find as well. I’m just a bit astounded at what they were trying to sell, as it really seems to be a cash grab. Anyway, it’s a fascinating bit of beauty history and definitely an expression of the era.
Which one of these were you most intrigued by? While I’m not the best at solving makeup mysteries I do enjoy receiving them, so please don’t hesitate to send any objects or questions to the Museum!
As in years prior, the Makeup Museum received some incredibly generous artifact donations in 2021. The Curator is so very grateful to everyone who believes the Museum is the right home for these objects. Most of these beauties were donated by the Museum's Instagram supporters…as much as I despise Instagram at this point, there are some really nice people on there with whom I've had the good fortune of connecting.
First up is a spectacular Paloma Picasso lipstick from the very talented and sweet @Sarahjeangirl. It has the original box and it's so fabulous! Paloma Picasso's line is also pretty rare, so I was elated a piece of it is with the Museum now. I hope to write something about this brand along with many others from the late '70s and early '80s.
Speaking of which, I went down quite a rabbit hole in fall 2021 trying to find information on Diane Von Furstenberg's various beauty endeavors. I discovered that she had not one, not two, but three beauty lines throughout her career. This brand new lip gloss set was donated by the wonderfully supportive Nita and dates to about 2003. I was so thrilled because despite the fact that DvF had tried expanding into the beauty realm three times, the objects prove rather elusive. And makeup from the late '90s/early 2000s in general is tough to find, so I was overjoyed to add this to the Museum's collection.
Next are some more contemporary artifacts from Sharon, a.k.a. @Metromakeupmaven. I had no idea Thierry Mugler had makeup until she offered to send me this gloss along with some other awesome items, including a blush from Chinese brand Catkin (love the bird print), macaron shaped sponges and cocoa blush from Kiko (you know my obsession with dessert-themed makeup), a cute little winking blush from Asos, and a L'Oreal x Isabel Marant highlighter. Can you believe this bounty?
We also have yet more vintage makeup postcards and memorabilia from the lovely Carolina Masseo, who sent these all the way from Argentina! Once again I was blown away by her generosity. I love ads just as much as the makeup itself.
Another second-time donor is the awesome Caroline of @eye_wonder_eye, or as I call her, the powder box queen. She was paring down her extensive, world-class collection of powder boxes, so I purchased a few she had listed on ebay. Once she realized I was the buyer, she included some amazing objects for free. As with last year's donation I just about died when I opened the package! The rouges are the perfect addition to the Museum's blush collection, and the sphinx box label is particularly thoughtful as the Museum has the matching compact. Plus it'll look great in the Egypt-inspired exhibition. I was also ecstatic over the very old Sephora catalog!
You might remember how much I enjoyed MAC's spring 2010 Liberty of London collection. I posted a picture of it in spring 2020 on Instagram reminiscing (and also not believing it was 10 years old at that point!) and the wonderful Jen of Coffee Sundays (and @tinypannation) mentioned she had a MAC Liberty poster she would be happy to send. The only issue was that it was located at a relative's house some 3,000 miles away and due to the pandemic she would not be traveling any time soon. Fortunately things had improved enough so that she could visit her family for the holidays in 2021, and she remembered – even after well over a year! – to find and mail the poster. Not only that, she included what we suspect is a hair tie and also some yummy candy, just because. How awesome is that?!
This box of vintage lipstick tissues is really special. The donor emailed and explained that a dear friend of hers, a woman named Bette, had passed away, and she thought it would be nice to donate the lipstick tissues Bette had collected. Because I'm always curious to try to get to "know" the people to whom these artifacts once belonged, I asked the donor if she could provide any information on Bette. And so she kindly included a detailed obituary and a brochure advertising Bette's pet portraits. She led a very interesting life and I'm so happy the Museum acquired her lipstick tissues and brief biography.
I was totally smitten by this gigantic NARS lipstick that bloggers received as PR even though, like similar PR packaging, it was pretty wasteful. Turns out that wastefulness works in my favor, as the donor said they were cleaning out their office and had no room for something so huge, so they offered to give it to the Museum! I was overjoyed they didn't just throw it out. Should the Museum ever occupy a physical space I think it would be smashing as entryway decor (and that's how I've placed it now. The green fellow to the left was my great grandmother's and is our guard dog.) As for the donor, they requested to stay anonymous so as not to get in trouble with NARS or have people bugging them for freebies, but I will say they are pretty famous. 😉
Another trip down memory lane: several years ago I wrote a Makeup as Muse post on local artist Gloria Garrett and remarked how much I liked her Mother and Child in the Park painting. Last summer one of Gloria's friends got in touch and explained that, sadly, Gloria had lost her husband and was having some health troubles of her own, and that she had moved out of her house and studio to an apartment closer to her daughter. This friend helped clean out Gloria's house and found the Mother and Child painting. Thanks to Google she spotted my post on Gloria's work and in a truly stunning display of kindness, offered to send it to me completely for free. I was totally bowled over and so honored to acquire one of Gloria's makeup paintings. I'm still trying to find the perfect spot for it. I am also obviously thinking of Gloria and hoping she's doing better.
Last but certainly not least, I wanted to mention that the Museum also received a gorgeous vintage dusting powder box and an adorable children's dusting mitt, but embarrassingly, I can't locate them at the moment. Losing track of artifacts has been quite a problem recently and I plan on remedying that with proper collections management software. I did a ton of research and demos in 2020 and 2021 and I've found at least a temporary solution which I hope to implement this year. Anyway, while the Museum tends not to collect bath and body products, I couldn't turn these away! Not much turned up on the Vida Ray dusting powder, but what I was able to find proved very confusing. Based on newspaper ads Vida Ray powder in the Gallivanting scent dates to about 1943-1949, but a dusting powder called Vita Ray was sold as early as 1934. The container that was donated lists both Vida with a d and Vita with a t, so what was actually the name? Vida Ray allegedly went out of business in 1948 and continued to sell the last of its stock in 1949, but there were still some mentions of Vita (with a t) in 1953. Pure speculation on my part, but it may have been fairly short-lived due to the fact that the company couldn't seem to agree on the spelling of its own name, as Gallivanting was advertised both with Vita and Vida Ray. Maybe the company was selling Vita Ray in the early '30s and for whatever reason changed their product name to Vida while still keeping the Vita company name. In any case, I'm guessing that customer confusion may have led to the line's lack of longevity.
The "Little Miss" powder mitt dates to about 1950. Le Sonier produced these mitts starting around 1944, but it looks like they changed the image on the box to the one below by 1950. In 1953 it changed again, and that seemed to be the last mention of Little Miss I could find.
In conclusion, thank you so so SO much to everyone who donated and help build the Museum's collection. I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank the Museum's dedicated volunteers, as well as others who consistently engage with the Museum. Time and expertise is every bit as valuable as artifacts, and I'm so grateful for those who support the Museum via social media comments, email, etc. As you know, things have not been easy the past few years – unfortunately there are many nasty people who want nothing else than to see the Museum fail – but I feel very heartened by the few who are there for me. You know who you are. 🙂 Oh, and if you have any old makeup you think you would be a good fit for the Museum, check out how to donate it by visiting the Support page.
Thoughts? And what's the best gift you received in 2021?
I really enjoyed the shorter bits of history that appeared between chapters in Lisa Eldridge’s Face Paint. I liked the idea so much, in fact, that I decided to steal it and use it for my ’90s makeup history book. Prom makeup is just one of the many featurettes I want to include. And I realize that prom season has come and gone by this point, but I’m still thinking how crazy it is that I graduated high school and attended my senior prom 25 years ago this spring! So with that, let’s see what pop culture and magazine editorials were recommending in terms of prom makeup. Obviously this isn’t meant to be an exhaustive list of every ’90s prom look ever and how they compare to today’s styles, nor is it a philosophical examination of prom and its greater cultural or social significance, especially for teenage girls. This post is really more of a nostalgic snapshot, especially since sources were hard to find. There are tons of vintage prom photos online but the makeup is barely visible, either because analog photos rarely translate well to digital images or because they were taken at a distance. Very few clear, closeup images of old prom makeup exist, so I had to rely mostly on magazines, movies and TV episodes and they weren’t great quality either. Also, I credited where I could, but not all information was available for every photo.
Overall, the decade followed the general makeup trends of the time. As a sort of backlash to the bright colors and general excess of the ’80s, from about 1990-1994 the majority of prom looks featured minimal, barely perceptible makeup.
Minimal prom looks from Seventeen Magazine, 1992 (left) and 1991 (right). Credits for 1992: Hair – Hubert Cartier and Gili. Makeup: Timothy Metz. Photography: Wayne Stambler. Credits for 1991: Hair – Rodney Groves; Makeup – Timothy Metz; Photography – Tierney Gearon.
Sassy Magazine, 1993. Hair – Daniel Howell; Makeup – Wei Lang; Photography – David Jensen
Are these girls even wearing makeup?! I guess they are since the credits list a makeup artist, but it’s nearly invisible.
YM Magazine prom edition, 1994. Credits for top photos: Hair – Christopher Lockhart for Sarah Laird; Makeup – Christy Coleman for Jed Root, Inc. Credits for bottom photos: Hair – Brent Lavent for Celestine; Makeup – Laura Jadro for Visage; Photography – Carlo Dalla Chiesa
YM Magazine prom edition, 1994. Hair – Christopher Lockhart for Sarah Laird; Makeup – Mathew Sky for Vartali Salon. Makeup by Maybelline.
Sassy Magazine, March 1994. Hair – Daniel Howell for Oribe; Makeup – Regina Harris; Photography – Cathrine Wessel
Julia Stiles’s character in 1999’s 10 Things I Hate About You opted for a minimal look for prom, but this might have been more of a stylistic choice to go match her personality rather than a reflection of late ’90s trends. Kat Stratford would never go for the glitter, frost and pastel colors that were popular towards the end of the decade.
Julia Stiles as Kat Stratford in 10 Things I Hate About You, 1999. Makeup artist: Martin ‘Vinnie’ Hagood
Another trend early on was a return to old school glam. Red matte lips, with or without a winged liner but always keeping the rest of the face neutral, was a popular choice.
Kelly (Jennie Garth) and Brenda (Shannen Doherty) in Beverly Hills, 90210 “Spring Dance” episode, 1990. Key makeup artist – Sheree Morgan; makeup artist – Alex Proctor.
Seventeen Magazine, March 1991. Hair – Gabriel Saba for John Sahag Salon; Makeup – Jacqui Lefton; Photographer – Dewey Nicks; Model – Limor Luss
Kellie Martin in Seventeen Magazine, March 1992. Hair – Patrick Melville for MCM Salon; Makeup – Tracy Sondern; Photography – Bico Stupakoff
Sassy Magazine, March 1995. Hair – Diane Wiedenmann; Makeup – Sharon Gault for Cloutier
Again, as with 10 Things I Hate About You‘s Kat, I think Heather’s (Mena Suvari) red lip more a stylistic choice to better suit the character rather than part of a real-world trend. (Sorry about the lack of quality in this photo, I couldn’t find a decent shot anywhere. Also, no fewer than 7 makeup artists for American Pie are listed at IMDB so it’s not clear who chose her look.)
Just based on these candids from YM’s prom issues, it seems like a lot of girls opted for a red lip or the minimal look for prom for 1993 and 1994.
YM Magazine prom edition, 1993
YM Magazine prom edition, 1994
There was also a somewhat odd combination of soft smoky matte grey or brown shadow and a desaturated but noticeable lip color. I don’t really remember this look, probably because I can’t say that the early ’90s take on a smoky eye is a look I enjoy. It just looks flat and muddy, plus very amateur despite the professional application. It’s like someone dipped their fingers into shadow, swiped them across their lids, added a touch of mascara and declared their eye makeup finished. Which would be fine with different textures and shades, but matte shadow in these colors requires some definition.
Seventeen Magazine, March 1992
YM Magazine prom edition 1993
My opinion is that it suits nobody, not even Heidi Klum.
YM Magazine prom edition 1994. Credits for left photo: Gerald DeCock for Louis Licari Color Group; Makeup – Christy Coleman for Jed Root, Inc. Credits for right photo: Hair – Lawrence DePalma for Pierre Michel Salon; Makeup – Christy Coleman for Jed Root, Inc. Model: Heidi Klum
A monochromatic face is surprisingly artistic and flattering if there’s variation in textures and finishes between eyes, cheeks and lips. Matte brown shadow with seemingly no other eye makeup besides a hint of mascara and paired with a warm, orange-brown lip isn’t great on most people. Case in point: these prom looks from the March 1994 issue of Seventeen. I know they were really meant to show the hairstyle, but they are so boring! Plus it looks awful on the skin tone of the particular model that was chosen – the poor thing looks like the life got sucked out of her. This combination only works on very specific coloring.
Seventeen Magazine, March 1994. Hair – Mara Schiavetti; Makeup – Cindy Joseph
Matte, one-dimensional shadow works if the eyeliner is noticeably darker and there is a contrast in tone for the lip color, as in YM‘s 1993 prom editorial.
YM Magazine prom edition, 1993. Model: Lana Ogilvie. Makeup Artist: Craig Gadson for Cover Girl.
But there is hope. Around 1996 is when we start to see a move away from matte textures and neutral shades. Bring on the metallics, the frost, the GLITTER!!
Seventeen Magazine, March 1997. Hair – Dennis DeVoy for Garren New York; Makeup – Kiyoshi for Oribe Salon; Photography – Iris Brosch
Seventeen Magazine, March 1999
Seventeen Magazine, March 1999
Seventeen Magazine, March 1999
Seventeen Magazine, March 1997. Hair – Matthew Williams; Makeup – Virginia Carde; Still life photos – Aimeé Herring; Model photos – Olivia Graham
There were literally dozens of makeup artists who worked on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so I’m not sure who was responsible for Buffy’s prom makeup, which consisted of a soft silvery grey eyeshadow and pearly pink gloss.
Sarah Michelle Gellar in “The Prom” episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 1999
Complexion-wise, foundation was less heavy and flat. Even though the early ’90s embraced the minimal look, skin still looked a bit dull. There were also few glossy lips to be found. The later part of the decade witnessed a shift towards fresher-looking skin (perhaps more blush added to this effect) and the rise of super shiny lips, which would continue into the early 2000s.
Seventeen Magazine, March 1997. Hair – Matthew Williams; Makeup – Virginia Carde; Still life photos – Aimeé Herring; Model photos – Olivia Graham
Also, there was interest in color again – no longer was the palette limited mostly to red, pink, grey and brown. Blue, peach, yellow, violet and green peeked their eager little faces out for the first time in what seemed like ages.
Sassy Magazine, March 1996
Sassy Magazine, March 1996
Sassy Magazine, March 1996
Seventeen Magazine, March 1997. Hair – Dennis DeVoy for Garren New York; Makeup – Kiyoshi for Oribe Salon; Photography – Iris Brosch
Seventeen Magazine, March 1998. Hair – Kevin Woon; Makeup – Kiyoshi; Photography – Marc Baptiste
Seventeen Magazine, March 1998. Hair – Kevin Woon; Makeup – Kiyoshi; Photography – Marc Baptiste
I really wish I could have found better photos of the makeup in prom scenes from movies and TV. (Seriously though, what was up with all the prom sequences in films from 1999? It seems nearly every teen movie made that year had one.) In these stills that I screenshotted and tried to brighten from She’s All That you can sort of make out Laney’s violet eyeshadow and browbone highlight.
Rachel Leigh Cook as Laney Boggs in She’s All That, 1999. Head makeup artist – Felicity Bowring; Makeup artists – Raqueli Dahan, Jane Galli and Lisa Layman
Meanwhile, mean girl Taylor Vaughan (Jodi Lyn O’Keefe) rocked a monochromatic gold look, complete with face and body glitter. Peak ’90s!
Now there were some trends that appeared in various iterations throughout the whole decade rather than being confined to certain years. Pink reigned supreme for prom makeup in the ’90s. Whether it was full-on bubblegum or a more natural, “romantic” look, rosy hues were a staple.
YM Magazine prom edition 1992. Hair – Brian Devine, Oribe at Elizabeth Arden; Makeup – Melissa Rogers
Kellie Martin in Seventeen Magazine, March 1992. Hair – Patrick Melville for MCM Salon; Makeup – Tracy Sondern; Photography – Bico Stupakoff
Sassy Magazine, March 1992. Hair – Colleen Creighton for Pierre Michel; Makeup – Lutz; Photography – Steven Miller
Sassy Magazine, March 1992. Hair – Colleen Creighton for Pierre Michel; Makeup – Lutz; Photography – Steven Miller
Sassy Magazine, March 1994. Hair – Daniel Howell for Oribe; Makeup – Regina Harris; Photography – Cathrine Wessel
YM Magazine prom edition, 1994
YM Magazine prom edition, 1994. Hair – Gerald DeCock for Louis Licari Color Group; Makeup – Mara Schiavetti for Jean Owen
Sassy Magazine, March 1995. Hair – Diane Wiedenmann; Makeup – Sharon Gault for Cloutier
Sassy Magazine, March 1996
Seventeen Magazine, March 1997. Hair – Matthew Williams; Makeup – Virginia Carde; Still life photos – Aimeé Herring; Model photos – Olivia Graham
Seventeen Magazine, March 1999
Sixties-inspired makeup also seemed to be a popular pick in both the early and later parts of the decade.
Seventeen Magazine, March 1991. Hair – Gabriel Saba for John Sahag Salon; Makeup – Jacqui Lefton; Photographer – Dewey Nicks
Seventeen Magazine, March 1994. Hair – Debbie Horgan; Makeup – Lorraine Leckie; Photography – Troy House
The most outrageous example is possibly from 1999’s Never Been Kissed. It’s like ’60s mod meets Evening Gown Barbie, Disco Barbie and Malibu Barbie, respectively (at least, according to the characters).
Never Been Kissed, 1999 with Kristin (Marley Shelton), Kirsten (Jessica Alba) and Gibby (Jordan Ladd). Makeup dept. head – Kimberly Greene; Makeup artists: Joni Powell and Lyssa Wittlin Baumert
Yours truly opted for the more subtle look. Yup, that’s the Curator at age 17, doing her best impression of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s for her senior prom. I eschewed my usual dark plum lip in favor of Holly Golightly’s pale pink, and though you can’t make it out in this old picture, I also had some pretty serious feline eyeliner. (I actually am a disaster at winged liner; my sister’s friend did my makeup). Too bad I had to ruin my updo by adding the ever-present ’90s tendril…then again, the bangs were already atrocious. But I loved my makeup, gloves, jewelry (shout-out to Y necklaces!), and dress. I really regret getting rid of those last two.
Finally, grunge, goth and punk influences occasionally emerged from subculture status on a decade-wide basis.
Sassy Magazine, March 1993. Hair – Daniel Howell. Makeup – Wei Lang. Photography – David Jensen
Seventeen Magazine, March 1997. Hair – Pasquale Ferrante; Makeup – Susan McCarthy for Shu Uemura; Photography – Grey Zisser
The models aren’t named in these next two photos but I’m almost positive I spy Alexis Bledel.
Seventeen Magazine, March 1998. Hair – Kevin Woon; Makeup – Kiyoshi; Photography – Marc Baptiste
Seventeen Magazine, March 1998. Hair – Kevin Woon; Makeup – Kiyoshi; Photography – Marc Baptiste
There were a handful of exceptions to all the usual looks. In one feature from YM‘s 1993 prom edition, a red lip was paired with a pale gold shadow rather than brown or grey and it actually looks like some blush was applied. I would absolutely wear this today (minus the skinny brows, of course.)
Hair – Howard Barr for Celestine; Makeup – Wendy Osmundson for Cloutier; Model – Melissa Billingsly.
These next two looks had some appealing contrast between eyes and lips. While the eyebrow shapes are firmly ’90s, the mix of either cool purple or silver shadow with a satin-finish plum or pink lip falls outside the usual trends from the era.
YM Magazine prom edition, 1993. Hair – Phillippe Barr for Salon Ziba; Makeup – Kelly Quan for Sarah Laird.
YM Magazine prom edition 1992. Hair – Brian Devine, Oribe at Elizabeth Arden; Makeup – Melissa Rogers
And here’s another monochromatic gold look, but it’s several years ahead of its time.
Seventeen Magazine, March 1994
But there weren’t really many outliers. Overall, prom makeup in the ’90s seemed very much a microcosm of the larger trends of the decade. It was a little disappointing not to uncover any totally atypical looks (although I do think the late ’90s was way more fun than the start of the decade). But I’m guessing the big magazines and movie studios/TV shows weren’t going to push much unconventional prom makeup or feature anyone who wore it, and those who would opt for more daring looks on a regular basis probably weren’t going to prom. Fortunately, mainstream media has somewhat caught on to a new aesthetic. The styles are very safe in most magazine covers and online content. The looks are nice and definitely updated from the ’90s, but they are, shall we say, basic, or mimicking “Instagram” style makeup. However, a closer look suggests there is experimental, Euphoria-type makeup being recommended, such as the incorporation of embellishments (flowers, gems, etc.), graphic liner in a bright color, or creative use of glitter. For example, compare several of Seventeen‘s recent prom covers with their online recommendations, or the fairly unremarkable cover look on Teen Vogue‘s 2014 prom issue with the far more interesting editorial inside. (Diversity in terms of race and body shape/size still needs work.)
I was very relieved to see these looks, as I was horrified at the possibility of Gen Z’ers receiving the same advice that me and my fellow Gen X’ers did, i.e., to play it safe. In my day prom was akin to one’s wedding in terms of makeup (which is another whole disturbing can of worms that I don’t want to open right now.) The most common tips for both occasions were to play up one feature only, stay away from using multiple colors, and don’t deviate much from your everyday look, along with a bunch of tricks to help one’s makeup last longer. Ho-hum.
Not surprised by Bobbi advocating for safe makeup.
If simple and natural is your style, or you don’t want to try anything too wild for a big occasion, great! But I’d like it if makeup that actually takes risks were as normalized as looks featuring minimal makeup.
While this hasn’t been the most insightful post, a glimpse of ’90s prom makeup serves as a good refresher on the decade and helps give more context to the trends. Plus as a print junkie, it was insanely fun to flip through old magazines. (The movies did not hold up well..although honestly even at the time they were fairly problematic.) It kind of makes me want to do a whole book or exhibition on prom makeup from all decades. 😉
Any favorite looks here? Did you attend any proms or formals in high school and if so, do you remember your makeup or have any photos you’d be willing to share?
I'm always so honored to hear from people wanting to know more about the (usually) vintage objects they come across. While the volume of inquiries can be a bit overwhelming sometimes, it's so interesting to see what's out there and I enjoy expanding my knowledge. For this installment of MM Mailbag, I'm looking at a few inquiries that I managed to partially solve. I wish I could have answered with 100% certainty, but at least I found a little information.
First up is a metal clutch containing a multi-use compact. The submitter lives in California and was cleaning out a house of a family member who had passed away when she stumbled across these items. At first glance I thought the compact was physically embedded in the clutch somehow, but they're separate.
The compact was easy to identify. It appears to be one by Mondaine, a compact manufacturer in the 1930s that was better known for their book-shaped compacts. Here's another example of it. (The interior has the same layout and products as the one that was sent to the Museum…I'm just too lazy to add photos.)
The metal clutch, however, was trickier. I couldn't make out the monogram or figure out what the "Mitzah" engraving was, but my best guess is that someone selected a clutch to put the Mondaine compact in, had it engraved and presented it as a gift – maybe for a birthday, or perhaps a wedding anniversary given the June date. Or maybe someone just had an old engraved metal case and decided to put the Mondaine in there to store it. They may be totally unrelated.
So I wasn't able to definitively conclude anything about the metal case. But it's certainly pretty and I wonder what the story was behind it.
Update, 6/4/2021: Some incredibly exciting news! Sarah Jane Downing (yes, THE Sarah Jane Downing who wrote Beauty and Cosmetics, 1550-1950), kindly reached out and provided some information on the mysterious "Mizpah" engraving on the metal clutch. Here's what she had to say:
"During the 19th century the Regency taste for sentimental jewellery developed into an obsession by the Victorian era and there were many pieces (in the UK at least) that bore the inscription 'Mizpah' or 'MIZPAH' which I suspect is the inscription on the clutch. This would substantiate your theory that it was sent as a gift to a loved one. Mizpah was a derivation from a Hebrew word meaning something akin to 'watchtower' which was used in jewellery to mean 'the Lord watch between me and thee', an innocent religious reference used to convey a far greater depth of meaning. This could be used in mourning jewellery to refer to the distance of a loved one sadly departed or as an early form of sweetheart gift for a loved one far away. It was also a wonderfully romantic way to exchange tokens with a secret or forbidden love without fear of accusation or discovery!"
How fascinating is that?! So now I really do wonder whether the clutch was intended as a wedding keepsake. Thank you so much, Sarah, for sharing this amazing bit of history!
Next up is an antique store find. It's a round metal compact featuring a peacock or pheasant perched on a cherry blossom tree. The characters on the front appeared to be Chinese and the submitter seemed to think it was someone's name. The only other marking it had was the word "lovely" (in English) on the powder puff in the compact (no photo of the puff was provided.)
I posted it on Instagram stories because I know a few very supportive Museum friends read and speak Chinese. I must give a huge thanks to Mimi of Makeupwithdrawal and Mina of Citrine's blog for kindly translating the characters for me! As it turns out, the first character means "beautiful" and the second means "peak" or "summit", so they believed the inscription is the name of the company that made the compact. Also, Mimi thought the compact dated to the 1960s or later, as simplified Chinese was standard by the '60s. How the English word "lovely" got on the powder puff I'm not sure, but perhaps it belonged to a different compact.
Unfortunately I don't know of any vintage Chinese compact companies or makeup brands – I'm only familiar with 21st century ones – but it's a pretty design even if we don't know exactly who made it.
Next up we have the opposite problem: the company was identified, but it's a strange find that I'm not entirely convinced is even a cosmetics object. It's made of velvet (unusual for a powder box) and paper (unusual for a compact). After a little digging I learned that it's a box by Tanfani & Bertarelli, who supplied papal jewels and religious accoutrements – basically they were the Vatican's official supplier of decorations starting in 1905. From the few documents I found online (ads and receipts) it appears Tanfani and Bertarelli were at the address listed on the box from at least the 1920s to the early 1960s. The company changed its name in 1967 so we know it dates prior to that. I asked the husband about the font of the company name since he's a graphic designer, but he indicated it's pretty generic so I'm not sure what decade it's from.
I'm questioning if the box was meant to be a compact given that I couldn't locate any examples of this company making cosmetics or toiletries – they seemed to produce papal jewelry/clothing and medals, so I'm wondering if this box held something else. Perhaps it held a gift or souvenir that the public could purchase at their shop. Especially since the writing on the box translates to "objects of devotion memories" whereas other boxes for official papal medals say "sacred objects" – maybe people could go in and buy a souvenir like a rosary or coin or something and this was the gift box. But it's possible it's a compact or was the gift box for a compact since souvenir compacts were popular back then, and the dimensions look similar to a compact, plus it opens the way a standard compact would. I'm not sure if there was an actual powder puff or if what's shown here is just a wad of cotton, or if there was any powder residue. Those details would help identify it as a powder box or compact with more certainty.
Let's take a quick break from compacts with an old lipstick. The submitter had the brand's name on the tip of his tongue but couldn't remember, so he asked me to take a crack at it. The silhouette of the case is rather common and used by a lot of brands so that's not much help, but there's an L on the cap and the fleur de lis motif would suggest a French brand. Based on other vintage lipsticks and ads, I eliminated Luxor, Luzier, Lucien Lelong, Lancome, Louis Phillipe and Lady Esther. I thought L'Oreal was a possibility based on this blush compact as it incorporates the fleur de lis, but the photos of the lipstick indicate it's a metal case, which means it most likely dates to before 1960. To my knowledge L'Oreal did not sell cosmetics (only haircare) in the U.S. until the late '60s.
My best guess is Lentheric, based on this mascara case which has a similar logo of an L and 3 fleur de lis symbols. This logo dates to the early '50s.
Lentheric appeared to have undergone a lot of packaging changes, so it's unclear when the lipstick in question was made. The company had an interesting fold-out case in the late 20s/early 30s, then a black case with a gold ribbon encircling it, then during the war they shifted to plastic. This one could be a variation from the mid 1930s to early 40s…that is, again, if it's actually Lentheric. I also asked the extremely knowledgeable expert at Cosmetics and Skin to take a peek and he thought it could be Lentheric as well. So that's what I came up with but I don't know for sure. Maybe the letter is actually a T and not an L, but that didn't align with any of the brands of the time (Tangee, Tattoo, Tussy, etc.)
Getting back to compacts, here's one someone dug up at an old bottle dump in Western Montana. This was another that at first glimpse I wasn't sure if it was a compact. The shape and depth seemed to indicate that it could be a snuff box.
The submitter thought the EA on the monogram might stand for Elizabeth Arden, but it didn't look like any of the ones from Elizabeth Arden, and as far as I know the company was never referred to as Elizabeth Arden Co. or E.A. Co. After poking around a bit I have come to believe it's the mark of the E.A. Bliss Co., which eventually became Napier Jewelry.
This particular mark, with a bee at the top, was used from about the 1890s through 1917, according to a listing at Ruby Lane. (Other listings indicate the mark was phased out in 1915…either way, this piece is much older than I originally thought!)
As they were a jewelry company that made tons of accessories – everything from hairpins to belt buckles – knowing the brand and the approximate dates didn't really help determine for sure whether it's a powder compact or snuff container. My hunch is that given the depth, relatively plain design and the lack of a mirror is that it is a snuff box. Ladies' powder containers tended to have more decorative details. For comparison's sake, here's a powder compact by the company from the same era. It is fairly plain, but it has a mirror and it's not as deep.
I really can't say for sure what it is, but we know it's over a century old, so it's a true antique. I'm also not certain about the materials. E.A. Bliss was essentially a fashion jewelry company (i.e., not high-end like Tiffany's) so there were a lot of gilt and silverplate accessories. So this one could be all brass or gold-plated brass. While I couldn't completely unravel the mystery of this object, I was pleased at figuring out who made it and the approximate dates. There's a whole book on the history of Napier too, so maybe there are photos or ads of snuff boxes and powder compacts.
The last one for today is one that I think is 99.9% solved. A very nice Museum supporter in Australia emailed to say that sometime in the late '90s she spotted a Stila compact in David Jones, a department store down under. As with my memory of a Stila mermaid, she thought maybe it was a figment of her imagination. "It was circular, with the rounded lid and relief design, and it was obviously for bronzer since it was a copper colour. This is the part that is driving me crazy: I swear it had a Stila girl on the lid! She closely resembled the girl on the Sun Gel tube (with the sun behind her) but the girl on the compact had a loose braid falling on her left shoulder instead of loose hair, and freckles. I have never seen this compact anywhere since. The only bronzer rounded relief compacts I've seen have the sun's rays or the little scattered stars. Did I imagine it?? I would so appreciate if you could please tell me if this compact exists!"
Fortunately I had good news for her. I'm not sure whether the compact in question was available in the U.S., but something nearly identical was sold in Asia and obviously in Australia where she spotted it. This one is very close to what she described, but the design does not appear to be in relief, just printed on the lid. So perhaps there was a slightly different product with the same Stila girl image but with a relief lid.
There were a couple of Stila compact designs with stars and one was relief and one was flat, so it's entirely possible the same thing happened with this design. As we know, just because an image can't be located online doesn't mean an object didn't exist. But the submitter replied to my findings and after thanking me profusely (always appreciated!) she confirmed that this was in fact the compact she had seen – she was quite certain that she was getting it slightly confused with the others that had a relief design.
And that wraps up today's edition of MM Mailbag. I have so many more inquiries to share…recently I tried to organize all of them into several email folders and noticed that the Museum has received over 320 inquiries since 2009! No wonder I feel like I can't keep up. But your queries are always welcome, so if you have an object or topic you'd like to know more about just send it my way. 🙂 And if anyone can help fully solve the makeup mysteries outlined in today's Mailbag, I'm all ears!
I am forever grateful for those who approach me with makeup they no longer want or that they feel belongs in the Museum. While 2020 was another hellish year for me personally and the Museum, as well as basically the whole world, I believe a record number of donations were received. Here’s a brief overview of what was graciously bestowed upon the Museum this year.
First up is a mint condition Max Factor gift set. A very nice woman in Canada donated it, noting that it was a birthday present from her father to her mother one year. According to newspaper ads it dates to about 1948. I love the suggested use for the box lids as “party trays”!
Next up is a slew of awesome ads and postcards from the ’80s and ’90s, donated by an Instagram buddy from Argentina. Such a sweet note too!
This next one is super interesting. Normally the Museum does not include hair products, but the donor is a fellow collector and very knowledgeable about Russian culture, having lived in Moscow for several years. This vintage hair dye was made in East Germany and exported to the USSR.
Next up are some lovely Elizabeth Arden objects. These were donated by a woman in California whose mother worked at the Elizabeth Arden counter at a department store. Here we have the Napoleonic compact which was introduced around 1953, Faint Blush, the famous Ardena patter, and some Color Veil (powder blush) refills.
Near as I can figure, the Faint Blush was a sort of foundation primer, but it seems like it could also be worn alone. I love the plastic pink rose packaging, as it’s very much of its era (ca. 1963-1973). I think the patter and the Faint Blush are my favorites from this bunch.
Then, another very kind Instagram friend and fellow collector sent a huge lot of vintage powder boxes and compacts. The Museum did not have any of these…some I hadn’t even heard of and some I had only admired them from afar. I just about died when I opened the package! Clockwise from top left: a 1930s eyeshadow by a company called Quinlan, a 1920s Harriet Hubbard Ayer Luxuria face powder, a powder dispenser by Cameo (probably from around the ’30s), a ’20s Marcelle compact tin, an extremely rare Red Feather Rouge tin (ca. 1919), an unmarked lipstick and floral powder tin, a Princess Pat compact from about 1925, a Yardley English Lavender tin (ca. 1930s) and a Fleur de Glorie face powder compact (ca. 1923-1926). In the middle is an amazing pink plastic 1940s Mountain Heather face powder case, a line manufactured by Daggett and Ramsdell.
I love each and every piece, but my favorites are the eyeshadow compact, and an adorable Mondaine book compact (with the original box!) that was also included. Bookworm that I am, I want a whole “library” of these designs.
Not all of the donations were vintage. I was so happy to have received these two nail polishes from another IG friend. They were the result of a 2016 collaboration between Cirque Colors and the Met in honor of the latter’s Manus x Machina exhibition.
I’m sure you remember the kindness of makeup artist Amelia Durazzo-Cintron, who shared her memories of working for Kevyn Aucoin back in July. For some reason she felt the need to thank ME instead, and did so by donating a really cool Black Swan makeup kit. How nice is her note?!
Another Instagram friend and lipstick fanatic has been making lipstick swatch books. These are kind of a new trend and in my opinion, far easier than taking photos of your lipsticks. Once again a sweet note was enclosed.
This lipstick swatch book is particularly lovely for its sprinkling of cosmetics trivia and important dates. (It also reminds me that I never started working on my daily makeup history calendar, sigh.) If you want one of your own you can purchase it here.
And that wraps up MM donations in 2020! I’m so incredibly grateful for these kind souls generously helping to build the collection. And while physical objects are amazing, it’s the notes and messages that come with them that mean the most. 🙂 Also, if you have a makeup object you think is historically significant, an object from the Curator’s wishlist, or anything else you’d like to give, please check out the Museum’s support page. I’m always looking for old fashion/women’s magazines too, along with ads and brochures and such…I can never have too much paper memorabilia!
Which one of these is your favorite? What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?
I had the great fortune of getting in touch with Andra Behrendt, curator of the Perfume Passage museum. She's a member of the International Perfume Bottle Association and sends out a quarterly eNews for their Compacts & Vanity Items Specialty group. The eNews focuses on compacts and related vanity items that are a part of the IPBA. She also runs Lady A Antiques, a shop she established in 1993. Andra kindly agreed to an interview, which I am extremely grateful for since not only has it been ages since I've interviewed anyone but more importantly, she has over 35 years worth of beauty history knowledge and experience to share. Enjoy!
Makeup Museum: How long have you been in the antique business?
Andra: I have been an antique dealer since 1993 as Lady A Antiques. As a dealer I specialize in celluloid covered boxes and albums from the 1900s, jewelry from Victorian through Deco, German bathing beauties from the 1920s and ladies accessory items such as compacts, purses, perfumes, hatpins, powders and puffs. I've had a website since 1997 and display at antique shows throughout the Midwest. I admit I don't update the website as often as I used to as I try to save the more unusual items for the shows. I have been a collector since I was a teenager, my aunt collected jewelry and she introduced me to antiques and collecting.
MM: How and why did you end up focusing on perfume and vanity items?
A: I gravitated toward enamel items and starting finding compacts and purses for my inventory. Then as my inventory of these items grew, I started meeting more collectors of these items at the antique shows. Now I specialize in the ladies vanity items!
MM: How did you get involved with the IPBA?
A: In the mid 1990s, before the internet, if you were interested in a special category of collecting, you joined a collectors club! I think at one time I belonged to a collector club for hatpins, combs, jewelry, purses, plastics, compacts and of course perfumes. That's how people met other collectors and shared their knowledge. I love to learn about the items that interest me and collectors are very generous in sharing their knowledge. The International Perfume Bottle Association has always been one of the more professional collectors club with a board of directors, annual convention, newsletters, etc. They believe in educating collectors about the history of the items we love so much. And many perfume collectors also collect related vintage vanity items such as compacts, purses, powders and lipsticks. The IPBA has always included compacts and related vanity items in addition to perfumes.
MM: Tell me about your experience as curator at Perfume Passage. What exactly do you do in your curatorial role?
A: I met the founders of Perfume Passage at one of the IPBA conventions about 10 years ago. When the museum started gathering information about compacts and vanity items to eventually display at the museum, I began evaluating the items they accumulated, providing information on their history, etc. When the museum was ready to begin installing displays, I started assisting with the showcases in the galleries and drugstore displays, focusing on the compacts, vintage makeup items and vanity items. I've been documenting the museum's collections as we are developing an online database for public use. I also assist with writing articles for the museum's website and eNews. As we just opened in May 2019, there are a lot of projects in the works!
MM: What are some of your favorite compacts/lipsticks/other makeup items and why?
A: I've always loved enameled items and the Art Deco time period. So my favorite compacts are the detailed enameled compacts from the 1920s and 1930s. I also like the whimsical figural compacts as they tell such an interesting story.
MM: What is your favorite era for makeup and why?
A: I'm drawn to the 1920s as it was an era of growth and change for women. There was a reason for compacts and makeup for women during this time and it was evident in the products that were produced. Looking back at some of the makeup items, it's almost humorous to think that "ladies really used" some of these products!
MM: Why do you think makeup history is important and worthy of preservation and museum display?
A: Compacts, purses, perfumes, powders and all vanity items were significant of their time periods and their manufacture was influenced by cultural and social trends. Just like most items that we collect today, there was a reason for their use and need. And these initial reasons don't always exist today, but are part of our history. With makeup, compacts and perfumes, people still use them and the reasons for using these products are mostly the same, but the products are different. But it's those early products that evolved into what is being used today and I don't think that should be forgotten. And it's a fascinating history if people take the time to learn about it. Perfume Passage and other related museums, such as yours, provide people with the opportunity to learn about this history as well as view wonderful items that didn't start out as collectible, but certainly are now!
MM: Any thoughts on current makeup/beauty culture? The Makeup Museum focuses on contemporary cosmetics, artist collaborations, etc. in addition to vintage objects, so I'd love to have your insight on what makeup and trends are out there now!
A: That's a very interesting question. I admit that I've really never worn makeup, I use just a little blush as my skin is so pale! I don't wear perfumes either. So it is kind of funny that I'm so in love with the history and products that are vanity related. And I honestly don't follow the contemporary cosmetic industry at all, just what I see on TV or read in magazines.
MM: Do you have any tips for compact collectors?
A: As with any item that we collect, buy what interests you. And while condition is usually the top priority for me, I also like the unusual. And before the internet, when many collectibles could only be found at shops, shows or auctions, collectors seem to buy for quantity. The internet has opened a whole new world for collectors, allowing us to see and purchase items that we would often never have a chance to find. So items that were considered "rare" or "one of a kind" can be found online. So I think collectors have more choices on what to collect or perhaps what to focus their collections on. While many compact collectors have a little bit of everything in their collections, you'd be surprised how many collectors focus on just Deco, or enamels, or figurals.
A 1930s Evans mesh purse with an ornate beaded/pearl/enamel compact lid:
A 1930s green floral enamel double compact with tango lipstick:
A 1958 Chicago White Sox compact. Back then, Tuesday's was ladies day at the ballpark and the owner of the team had a give-a-way of this compact! The other teams that I know of that had a similar promotion with compacts were the Los Angeles Dodgers, Baltimore Orioles and New York Giants.
Finally, a 1920s celluloid lady compact, the top "dress" slides and there's a mirror and powder puff inside.
(all images provided by Andra Behrendt)
Andra, thank you so much for taking the time to answer the Makeup Museum's questions and for your incredibly valuable insight! I encourage everyone to check out the Perfume Passage website and sign up for their newsletter. If you're in the Chicago area and can visit in person, so much the better. And if you're a collector, be sure to add Lady A Antiques to your shopping list!
I'm still a bit wiped out from the spring exhibition and it's been ages since I've shared some inquiries that made their way in the ol' Makeup Museum Mailbag, so here's a quick review of some questions that have been sent my way.
First up is this lovely compact with a six-pointed star in blue rhinestones – perhaps a Star of David? – and matching lipstick, submitted from a reader in Australia. Her grandmother's brother had brought it back to her grandmother during the second World War. Without any logo or brand markings I can't pinpoint the company that made it, and after looking online and through all my collector's guides I can say I've never seen a vintage compact with this design. Obviously it was made in France, but I'm not quite as familiar with objects across the pond, as it were. It's a beautiful set and I wonder whether it has any wartime or Holocaust significance.
The second inquiry I have to share today was another head-scratcher. Someone had messaged me on Facebook (which I set up earlier this year but rarely use) asking about this little lady. It's a Revlon Couturine lipstick, but her identity remains a mystery.
As I've noted previously, allegedly the Couturines were supposed to be modeled after actresses and other purveyors of style. But this one doesn't seem to match any of the ones that have been identified. The only other actress whose name I've seen mentioned is Shirley MacLaine but it's not her either, according to this photo.
Finally, I received an inquiry from someone asking for proof that suffragettes wore lipstick as a symbol of emancipation. I swiftly directed this person Lucy Jane Santos's excellent article outlining how there really is no solid evidence that the ladies fighting for equality in the early 1900s regularly wore lipstick to rallies, or at least, to the big one in 1912. As she outlines in her article, it appears to be a persistent myth that most likely began circulating in the '90s both in Jessica Pallingston's book and Kate de Castelbajac's The Face of the Century: 100 Years of Makeup and Style (1995). Just for kicks and giggles I took a peek at newspaper archives (I'm finding they're just as fun and informative as magazines) and dug up a couple of interviews with British suffrage leader Emmeline Pankhurst and a profile of her daughter Sylvia. Their views on makeup are positively fascinating! As it turns out, Emmeline had no moral issue with cosmetics, she just didn't find a made-up face aesthetically pleasing: "Don’t think I am actually censoring the young girls nowadays…the very brief skirts and the overdone makeup are by no means an indication of loose morals. They are, in often rather a pitiful way, an indication of groping toward greater freedom and they are still more a groping towards beauty…the impulse to make one's self look as well as possible is a perfectly sound impulse. It has its root in self-respect. It is quite wrong to think that the use of short skirts and rouge are based on any violent desire to attract the opposite sex. The use of these aids [is] based on the legitimate desire to look one’s best. A woman dresses more for other women than for men. But the too-red lips and the extremely short skirt – I must confess that I dislike them. I dislike them because so few girls look well thus arrayed, and because older women, when thus arrayed, usually look rather ridiculous. But let me point out one fine fact behind all this makeup.It is not added with any idea of deception. The woman today who powders and paints does it frankly, often in public without one iota of hypocrisy. And this, I think, is a splendid gain.” (emphasis mine)
Her daughter, Sylvia, on the other hand, did not approve of makeup at all. "I still don't approve of lipstick and makeup. It's horribly ugly, destroys the value of the face. I've never used it, never shall." Her obituary also states that she thought makeup and lipstick were "tomfooleries".
I did also see this 1910 ad from Selfridge's. This is what I believe to be the only reference to suffragettes wearing lipstick. I'm wondering if this is part of how the myth was generated, since even with this ad there doesn't seem to be any concrete proof that suffragettes wore lipstick. Selfridge's advertised and sold it; whether it was widely worn by suffragettes is still up for debate in my very humble opinion.
If you have any additional information about the things I've shared today, please let me know! Which one do you find most interesting?
“I want a case that glows with fashion. That has such fashion magic it transmits right through the lipstick and onto the faces of women. Makes them feel the beauty touching their lips.” – Charles Revson, January 13, 1954.
I know, more vintage Revlon lipsticks. But I promise it’s very interesting! There didn’t seem to be a comprehensive history of Revlon’s Futurama line so I thought I’d take a stab at it. Futurama was a collection of refillable lipstick cases designed by famed jewelers Van Cleef and Arpels for Revlon. The line was introduced in 1955 with much fanfare, especially its debut on the popular game show the $64,000 Question. But how did the collaboration between Revlon and Van Cleef happen? Who was responsible for the design? What is Futurama’s significance in makeup history? I can’t say I have answers to all of these questions, but I’ll do my best.
First, a quick background. Refillable lipsticks had been on the market since the 1920s and became more widespread in the ’40s as a way to save metal during wartime. Every last scrap was needed; the country couldn’t afford to have women wasting a used lipstick tube.
The notion of makeup as an additional accessory was reinforced by the fact that many compacts were sold in jewelry stores in addition to the jewelry section at department stores, with custom engraving and monogramming available.
Jewelry designers Ciner and Paul Flato also had their own compact and lipstick combinations in the late ’40s and early ’50s.
By and large, compacts and lipstick cases were already perceived as another item of jewelry thanks to companies like Van Cleef and Arpels leading the way. So what was new and special about Revlon’s Futurama cases?
There were two key factors that Revlon advertised as the differentiators: design and price point. The concept for the design is a fascinating story. As he explains in the book Business Secrets That Changed Our Lives, Revson was inspired by a business trip to Paris. “The candlelit room, the elegant service, the fine furnishings bespoke good taste and an appreciation of beauty. Next to me sat a chic and lovely woman. What interested me most about my dinner partner was not her beauty but a small object she had taken out of her purse. My eyes returned to it again and again, until finally, with an amused smile, she handed it to me saying, ‘I would not have expected an American man to be so interested in a lipstick.’ The beauty of the case, hand-engraved and diamond-bedecked, was one outstanding feature. What really caught my eye, though, was that the lipstick could be removed with a single click-in, click-out action in just one section. And because the lipstick was contained in its own cylinder, removal of it was not only easy, but smudge-proof. My dinner partner’s remark kept goading me-‘I would not have expected an American man to be so interested in a lipstick.’ Of course not! All that an American man ever saw was one of those undistinguished brass bullets!”2 Revson took a similar case back to the U.S. and less than a month later, on January 13, 1954, summoned Earl F. Copp into his office. Copp was Chief Operation Officer for Risdon Manufacturing Company, which had been making Revlon’s cases since 1947. Revson explained what he had in mind: “I want a case, a refillable case. You have to make it different from this one. This is too much like the others, refillable perhaps, but not elegant enough. I want to see luxury, fashion, expensive jewelry. No more bullets. Can you see what I mean? I want a case that glows with fashion. That has such fashion magic it transmits right through the lipstick and onto the faces of women. Makes them feel the beauty touching their lips…I don’t want just one case, but a whole line. So that women will want one for morning, one for evening, one for special occasions-all suitable for refills with whatever different colors they prefer.” While refillable lipsticks existed previously, the way Futurama was advertised suggested a totally new frontier. According to design historian Matthew Bird3, Lurelle Guild (1898-1985), a prominent industrial designer at the time, was brought on board to oversee the aesthetics of the cases. As another design scholar notes, Guild was the ideal choice to design a cutting-edge, futuristic lipstick case, as he had been responsible for other iconic ’50s styles such as Electrolux’s Model G vacuum, which sported “rocket-like fins”.4 While the cases were being advertised in 1955, Guild filed a patent in early 1956. Grace Gilbert van Voorhis, Raymond Wolff and Henrieta Manville are also named on the patents, with Manville’s name on the “utility” patent for the inner mechanism of the case. Based on census records, Manville most likely worked with Earl Copp at Risdon Manufacturing, while Wolff may have worked in Guild’s office. As for Van Cleef’s role, it appears they signed on in name only and let Revlon deal with the designs themselves; this seems especially likely given that none of the cases really resemble anything Van Cleef was making at the time.5
The designs on their own were modern for the time, but another aspect that Revlon claimed as new was the actual refill mechanism. While they weren’t quite the hardship Revlon’s Futurama ads made them out to be, earlier versions of refillable lipsticks could get a little messy and took a minute or two to change as compared to Revlon’s alleged 3 seconds.
Futurama’s “click in, click out” was certainly less involved than wartime lipstick refill instructions!
The second aspect that set Futurama apart from previous lipsticks was that customers were made to feel as though they were getting a luxury item by a brand name at an affordable price. “Like rubies and emeralds, a really luxurious lipstick case has seemed out of reach to most women…though Revlon’s new cases look loftily priced, some are a low $1.75, including lipstick. Besides which, women find Futurama a money-saver since refills only cost 90c.”
The cases themselves were presented as affordable, but Revlon also promoted the idea of the refillable lipstick as a cost-saving measure – once the customer “invested” money in a case, refills would be less expensive in the long term than buying a whole new lipstick.
You would think a company as large as Revlon wouldn’t take a chance with their reputation by participating in price fixing, but in 1958 their shady tactic of setting refill prices was admonished by the FTC, who cracked down on them for conspiracy. The author of the fabulous Cosmetics and Skin website explains: [Futurama] went on sale in 1955 after Revlon acquired the Braselton lipstick patents for lipstick cartridges in 1954. Revlon then entered into an agreement with Helena Rubinstein and Merle Norman – along with a number of container manufacturers, including Scovill and Risdon – to fix the price of lipstick refills, including non-patented lipstick inserts, until they were charged by the U.S. Federal Trade Commission (FTC) with conspiracy.”
Even though it had been advertised previously, the breakout moment came when Revlon featured a commercial for Futurama on the game show The$64,000 Question, which they were sponsoring. (Revlon’s sponsorship of the short-lived quiz show is a fascinating history in and of itself.) It was during this commercial that viewers could witness in real time the ease and tidiness of Futurama lipsticks, making video even more critical than print ads. As Bird notes, “YouTube allows us to watch a vintage television ad and learn that the design separated the lipstick from the case, and saved money by offering refills. The line was marketed to women, but also to husbands and children as an affordable but seemingly luxurious gift. Without this TV advertisement, the design is easy to write off as mere decoration. With this added information, the design transcends mere aesthetics to address user needs, perceived value, material use, marketing, and problem-solving. Seeing the design in action gives it a life and sophistication not evident in the brutality of an elevation view patent drawing or two-dimensional photograph.”6
Overall, Futurama was presented as the wave of, well, the future. The case designs, particularly the elongated styles that were tapered in the middle and wider at the ends, were intended to reflect the modern era rather than mimic shapes of the past. Revson discusses the design selection process. “When the designs started to come in, it was an exciting and stimulating experience. Many shapes were proposed: prisms, octagons, ribbons and bows, pencils, thimbles and countless others. But the most inspired was the hourglass, a shape that four designers suggested independently. We experimented with many surface treatments, too: brocaded gold on silver, silver-plated with a gold spiral, wedding bands en circling the cylinder. With Bert Reibel, our packaging designer, I selected two basic shapes by the end of March, 1954. One group of cases, shaped like hourglasses, would retail at $2.50 or more; the other group, thimble-shaped, would be less expensive. Of all the samples submitted, only one surface treatment resembled that of expensive jewelry. We had to make arrangements with Fifth Avenue jewelers and designers, visit art museums and study color photographs of good-looking jewelry from the archives. Almost every major jewelry shop in Manhattan was visited, to study expensive, hand-designed compacts and cases. But we were still little closer to our goal. During the next eight months, we made up many thousands of designs and some five hundred actual models, each with a different surface or slightly modified shape. Parts were interchange able, so we could produce still different combinations. We invented our own special language: ‘belts,’ ‘skirts,’ ‘balances,’ ‘waistlines.’ Which ‘belt’ looked best with which ‘skirt’? Which ‘waistline’ went best with which ‘collar’? It got to be a joke that I was often awake all night worrying about a dimension of one-sixteenth of an inch. And it was true! The search for new surface treatments inevitably brought us face to face with the limitations of machinery. I had become intrigued by one finish we found on expensive compacts-‘Florentine’ by name-which was a texture of minute, finely etched lines. In 1954 no case manufacturer had the facilities or know how to produce it in volume…[Copp] finally, after long weeks of experimentation, had devised belts and grinding wheels that would simulate the ‘Florentine’ finish. To produce other finishes, he had to dispatch engineers to Switzerland and Italy before he could locate and buy the only turning machines on earth that could do a mass production job.”
You’ll notice there are very few scratches on this black case, which was the result of Revson’s insistence that all the finishes should last at least 2 years before showing significant wear. “Two coats of high-bake vinyl lacquer” did the trick. The longevity of the pavé settings on the tops of some of the cases was also difficult to ensure.
After nearly a year of design work, Revlon began working on the marketing, with Vice President Kay Daly (who had previously came up with the questions for Revlon’s iconic Fire and Ice quiz) leading the way. “Early attempts missed the boat because they emphasized the fashion element, but did not adequately sell the ‘refillable’ idea. The most frustrating task [Daly] undertook was the selection of a name for the cases. Hundreds were suggested, considered and rejected. l could not agree-no one could agree-on any of them. Finally, she hit on Futurama. To my mind, this suitably brought home the newness, the excitement, the fashionableness of the product…A market research organization reported that Futurama ‘is not a good name. It is too masculine. It sounds too much like General Motors.’…In the end, I had to make the decision. There was, of course, only one way to look at it: from the viewpoint of the American woman herself. I decided to rely on my original reaction that the name was good, and that it would appeal to the consumer I knew best.” The name was rumored to be taken from the Futurama exhibition at the 1939 New York World’s Fair and speaks to the post-World War II futurist trend in American design and technology. Additionally, Revlon declared both the economic practicality and new designs to be the most cutting-edge ideas in cosmetics, and any modern woman should want to join the party. “Are you ready for Futurama?” asks this 1958 ad.
If you weren’t on board with Futurama, you were getting left behind; the ads not so subtly implied that women who didn’t purchase Revlon’s latest offering were unfashionable and stuck in the past. According to one commercial, “The days of old-fashioned, un-style-conscious mothers are about as out-moded as old-fashioned brass lipstick…modern mothers may be old-fashioned on the inside, but they want to be the picture of glamour and style on the outside.”
By late 1957 Futurama had expanded to compacts, which were also refillable. While not as notable as the lipsticks, the compacts solidified Futurama as the most recognized line for Revlon at the time. Something that is of note, however, is the fact that Andy Warhol may have been involved in the design of at least one of the compacts. A while ago a private collector sent me some photos and surmised that Warhol might have been responsible for a Revlon Futurama compact featuring his drawing of an early 1900s style shoe. This is what she had to say: “I emailed Van Cleef and Arpels about who exactly designed these lovely creations and I actually got a call from a representative wanting to find out information on a specific compact I have that she called ‘the Warhol Boot’…It was supposedly one of 5 display/prototypes that went missing between 1959 and 1961. It was designed by Andy Warhol but rejected by Revson because it didn’t fit the ‘mood’ of the collection.” If this is true, what an amazing find! Take a gander at the second compact from the left in the second row.
I reached out to another collector whose father worked for Revlon, but she was unable to find any definitive proof that Warhol designed the compact. Still, it resembles his shoe illustrations.
Getting back to the lipsticks, Revlon’s competitors were just as cutthroat as they would be today in that several companies released jewelry-inspired cases of their own. Take, for example, DuBarry’s Showcase. Model Suzy Parker was featured in DuBarry’s ads – an unusual move given her appearance in Futurama ads. What is not surprising that the company doing this is DuBarry, who you might remember would go on to shamelessly rip off Revlon’s Fire & Ice lipstick with their Snowball of Fire shade in 1959.
Cutex was even more blatant in their plagiarism (but at least they used a different model, Sara Thom). In 1958 the company introduced their “designer’s cases” which were apparently similar to something one would find in a “Fifth Avenue jeweler’s window”. The notion of previous lipstick case styles as being “passé” was also copied from Revlon. I’m not sure these were refillable, but they were definitely lower priced than Revlon’s refills.
There was also this Avon clone making a series of “jewel-like” cases at a price “every woman can afford.”
Can you say “knock-off”? Then as now, this sort of plagiarism was rampant in the industry (more on that in another post). To my knowledge none of these brands had partnerships with actual jewelry companies the way Revlon did, but they were definitely capitalizing on the makeup-as-inexpensive-jewelry concept.
As of December 1960 Futurama was still being heavily promoted by Revlon. A vast array of designs had joined the original lineup, while the older styles received elaborate outer packaging to suit any occasion.
Something that I have not been able to confirm is the numbering of the cases. This one is listed in the ad as 9029, but engraved on the bottom is 587. I believe the numbers on the bottoms of the Futurama cases correspond to the lipstick shades, not the case model, but I can’t be certain.
Futurama was phased out by the mid-1960s, but its influence is alive and well today. Many makeup companies have collaborated with jewelry designers either for their permanent collection or limited edition collections. The idea of owning luxurious yet modestly priced jewels via makeup persists. As with the beauty lines of fashion houses or artist collaborations, if one cannot afford vintage jewelry or an original piece by a high-end designer/artist, makeup allows the customer to get a taste of the real deal. Here’s a quick list of some of the more memorable makeup/jewelry collaborations. I’m also keeping my eyes peeled for one of these Cutex lipstick bracelets, which were sold around 1955-1958.
Some high-end lines go the Cutex route by creating makeup that can actually be worn as jewelry. Dior, YSL and Louboutin have all released lip products in pendant form.
Refillable lipsticks with outer cases meant not only to last but also displayed are thriving in 2020, given the increasing demand for sustainable packaging. The most recently unveiled jewelry-inspired line, and probably the one most similar to Futurama besides Guerlain’s Rouge G, comes from fashion designer Carolina Herrera. “We wanted to give women an opportunity to wear their makeup like a piece of fabulous jewelry,” Herrera stated. The entire line is refillable and offers customization options in the form of detachable charms and a variety of case styles.
Would all of these examples have existed without Revlon Futurama? Sure, but Revlon did a lot of the heavy lifting. Despite the exaggerated tone of the ads, Futurama was groundbreaking in that it popularized the notion of attainable luxury within the cosmetics arena and simplified the lipstick refill process. The cases also serve as a prime example of the futuristic flavor of 1950s American design. These factors make Futurama a significant cultural touchstone on par with Revlon’s previous Fire & Ice campaign. At the very least, Futurama represents several key developments in cosmetics advertising and packaging that helped lay the groundwork for today’s beauty trends and shape consumer tastes.
Which Futurama design is your favorite? Would you like to see a history of refillable lipsticks or an exhibition expanding on the makeup-as-jewelry concept? I have to say I’d be curious to see what Revlon would come up with if they did another collab with Van Cleef…it would be awesome if Futurama 2.0 incorporated Van Cleef’s signature Alhambra motif.
1 Give yourself a crash course in learning the lingo for various makeup cases and the differences between them. Noelle Soren’s website is a treasure trove of knowledge!
2Revson elaborates on existing cases. “For a long time it had been bothering me that American women-so alert in many ways-had been content with that old smooth brass cylinder . It had no distinctive shape, color, finish or design. It looked like a cartridge case. They would buy them and discard them when they were used up, and then buy another…A number of cosmetics manufacturers had for years tried to make cases more distinctive. We had played around with the idea at Revlon. But all that any of us ever came up· with was an other version of the cartridge case. For one thing, all case manufacturers, including Risdon, had the same kinds of machines, with the same old limitations.” (“The Matter of Beauty: The Development of the Futurama Lipstick Case” in Business Secrets that Changed Our Lives, edited by Milton Shepard (1964), p. 294.
3 Matthew Bird, “Using Digital Tools to Work Around the Canon” in Design History Beyond the Canon, edited by Jennifer Kaufman-Buhler, Victoria Rose Pass, and Christopher S. Wilson (2018), p.114-117.
4 Through this paper I discovered that there are two folders worth of Revlon correspondence and sketches for lipsticks in the official Lurelle Guild papers, which are housed at Syracuse University. I have requested electronic copies of these but obviously since the library is closed due to the coronavirus I will have to wait to receive them and see if they shed any more light on the Futurama design process. I’m also still trying to figure out whether Van Cleef designed this beautiful jeweled case, as Pinterest is literally the only place I’ve ever seen it.
5 There is an ad in the January 1956 issue of Reader’s Digest that mentions Charles Revson “commissioning” Van Cleef and Arpels to design the Futurama line. Google, however, will not let me see the entire ad, and I’ve purchased 2 copies of that particular edition of Reader’s Digest to no avail – there was no Revlon ad in either of them. Either Google has the date wrong or, as one eBay seller noted, the ads differed between Reader’s Digest even if they were the same exact editions (i.e. same month and year.) If anyone knows how to access Reader’s Digest in full online, please let me know!
6 Matthew Bird, “Using Digital Tools to Work Around the Canon” in Design History Beyond the Canon, edited by Jennifer Kaufman-Buhler, Victoria Rose Pass, and Christopher S. Wilson (2018), p.114.
I love when I get an inquiry to which I can actually give a solid response. A gentleman sent in this picture he had of an old lipstick and asked if I could identify it and provide any sense of its monetary value.
I recognized it immediately as one of the Revlon Couturines doll lipsticks released between 1961 and 1963. But which one? The only one I recognize off the top of my head is Liz Taylor as Cleopatra, since it's pretty obvious.
Fortunately the Revlon Couturines appear in Lips of Luxury (which I highly recommend for any beauty aficionado – check out my review here and in-person pics here.) According to the photos in the book it's not Marilyn Monroe.
Or Ava Gardner.
So it must be one of these ladies.
Aha! Looks like it's Jackie Kennedy (last one on the right.)
What's fascinating to me about the submitter's photo is that his doll appears to be wearing a little fur stole around her neck, whereas in the photo from the book she doesn't have one. As for the value, Revlon Couturines can fetch a pretty hefty price. Even though the photo is blurry, the one submitted to me looks to be in excellent condition. And given that she has a stole, which I'm assuming is original (the original Marilyn Monroe figurine has neckwear as well, which isn't shown in the picture in Lips of Luxury), that would probably increase the value. I think a fair asking price would be $150-$250. At the moment I don't even see any Jackie figurines for sale.
What do you think of these? This post reminds me that I really need to track down at least one for the Museum – I can't believe I don't own any. Another one (or 8) to add to the old wishlist.
Update, 2/6/2020: It only took 5.5 years, but I finally procured a few of these lovely ladies for the Museum!
I am sorry to say that I can confirm these are not cruelty-free. As a matter of fact, Revlon made it a point to highlight the "genuine" mink, fox and chinchilla used. How times have changed. I'm also wondering whether all the ones listed for sale over the years as having brown mink are actually fox fur, as indicated in the ad below. Then again, this was the only ad I saw that referenced fox fur, so maybe the brown ones are mink as well.
The white mink one is not in the best shape – there's a little bit of wear on the paint on her lips and discoloration around her "waist" – but she does have the original box. I'm suspecting the black mark is remnants of a belt, as shown here. (Apologies for changing the background in these photos but I was shooting across several days and was too lazy to retrieve the paper I had used originally.)
The chinchilla-clad lady, however, is basically new in the box. One hundred percent museum quality!
From what I was able to piece together from newspaper ads, the ones without animal fur were advertised as "mannequins" and originally released in 1961, while the chinchilla, fox and mink ones were referred to as "girls" and debuted during the holiday season of 1962. Both series fell under the Couturine name.
There were originally 12 designs, according to this ad. Of course, you paid a little more for the Mannequins with hats and jewelry.
Most of them were similar but had a few details switched up. This is especially true for the Girls series. For example, the brown mink/fox one I procured has the same color velvet at the bottom and one pair of rhinestones, but the one in Lips of Luxury has pink velvet and 4 rhinestones. The colors of the velvet and type of fur were also mixed and matched.
But one question remains. I'm wondering where Jean-Marie Martin Hattemberg, whose book Lips of Luxury I referenced earlier, retrieved his information. Obviously I don't think he just made up the idea that each Couturine was intended to be a replica of an actress or other famous woman. But I'm so curious to know how he came to that conclusion since I've never seen them advertised or referred to that way anywhere other than his book. Perhaps he knew someone at Revlon who designed them? Or maybe they were marketed differently outside of the U.S.? In any case, there's no mention of the chinchilla Couturine and several other of the original 12 dolls in Lips of Luxury, so I'm not sure who they're supposed to be. Hopefully one of these days I'll solve another makeup mystery. 😉
