From 1947-1949, the Dorothy Gray brand ran a series of ads featuring portraits of "fascinating women". I don't know why I'm covering them given that they're all white, upper-crust socialites who for the most part didn't do much besides existing while rich, but I guess my insatiable curiosity about vintage advertising got the better of me. I was determined to find out more about these ladies and the artists who painted their portraits in the hopes of figuring out why Dorothy Gray embarked on this campaign. So with that, here are brief bios of 6 of the women and the artists, along with a couple of examples of their other work. Stay tuned for part 2 to see the other five women featured and some theories about the campaign.
We'll start with the ladies that I couldn't find much info on. First up is Mrs. John P. Labouisse (1911-1984). Near as I can figure, Mrs. Labouisse's maiden name was Olive May Moore. Both she and her husband came from prominent New Orleans families. They had one child in 1935, who passed away in 2005. I'm not sure if it's intentional, but I find it interesting that the ad copy mentions that the packaging can accommodate "the most regal boudoirs," while Olive is portrayed what appears to be a fancy peignoir or dressing gown, more suitable for the bedroom than daytime wear. Then again, I'm no fashion historian so I might be completely off base.
Alexander Brook (1898-1980) was a New York-based Realist painter known for his portraits and landscapes. While recovering from a bout of polio at the age of 12, he became interested in art. A few years later he enrolled at the Art Students League, and by the 1920s he was exhibiting at what would become the Whitney Museum. Brook was one of the most highly renowned American painters of his time, having multiple solo exhibitions across the country. Personally, I can't say I'm fond of his work. There's a sadness about his subjects that I'm not sure comes from the way he chose to paint them or if they were melancholy on their own.
In any case, Brook would often paint his first impression of his sitters to capture a truer likeness. "When I do a portrait, whether it is one of my own choice or a requested commission of someone I hardly know, I find that my first impression of the proposed sitter is usually the one I strive to paint…whenever I hold closely to my original, instantaneous observation or try to emphasize even more the qualities I saw in my first conception, I paint with greater ease and the result is more satisfactory to me. To be able to retain and paint the spirit of what was seen in my first glance gives me a freer rein to achieve a more individual result than would a careful analytical conclusion." (quoted in the Daily Oklahoman, May 29, 1949)
But perhaps what I'm interpreting as sadness is actually "sensitive character study and introspective mood," according to a 1981 re-evaluation of Brook's work in the New York Times. The article also notes that the once tremendously popular genre of World War I figurative portraits had gone out of style once abstract expression rolled in after the second World War, but made a comeback in the late 1970s and early '80s as a result of the rekindled interest in realism. Hence Brook's oeuvre being re-examined then. To my knowledge there has not been a third massive exploration of his work since the early '80s.
I really don't care what the Times or other critics say, these murals in the Clinton Federal Building are objectively somber due to both Brook's style and the subject matter. In 1939 Brook was commissioned to paint several murals under one of the New Deal art programs. These are titled "Writing the Family Letter" and "Reading the Family Letter," which depict families who were separated due to relief efforts in the Great Depression and who depended on letters to keep them emotionally connected.
Overall, while I appreciate the no-frills approach and quiet dignity with which he painted all his subjects, I didn't find Brook's style all that enthralling. But if you're so inclined you can buy his monograph.
Next we have Mrs. Stanley G. Chamberlain, formerly known as Esther Carolyn Nice. Esther was born around 1906, so that would make her about 43 in 1949 when the ad was released. I'm amused by the fact that Dorothy Gray not so subtly paired an over-40 woman with ad copy discussing how one could maintain the "precious bloom of youth" in her 40s by using their products. I wish I had some details on Esther's life besides the fact that she and Stanley had three children. Esther passed away suddenly on November 23, 1968.
There was plenty of information on the artist behind Mrs. Chamberlain's portrait, however. William Coffield Fields, III was a highly successful portrait artist, consistently painting and exhibiting his work from the early 1940s until the 1990s, when he increased his focus on local history and genealogy. A native of Fayetteville, North Carolina, Fields graduated from the fine arts program at the University of North Carolina in 1938 and later studied at the Museum of Fine Art in Boston – probably how he got the attention of the Boston-based Chamberlains. But for most of his career he divided his time between New York City and Fayetteville. In 1951 he spent 7 months in Italy, painting portraits of Pope Pius XII, Prince Ludovico Chigi, and the Prime Minister during World War I, Vittorio Orlando.
Fields believed that a good portrait didn't necessarily require technical skill; a rapport with the sitter was more important in conveying their personality. "A portrait should be an encounter. You should know something about that person when you look at it," he stated in 1980. Though he painted many well-to-do women and other notable people throughout his career, Bill seemed fairly down to earth, teaching regularly and volunteering for a number of local arts organizations. He thought being referred to as an artist was pretentious, and preferred to be called a portrait painter. Plenty of middle-upper class families commissioned him for portraits, which makes me think he charged more affordable rates than his peers or worked on a sliding scale. Coupled with the fact that there were no mentions of Esther in the society pages, I'm guessing the Chamberlains kept a low profile or perhaps were not as astronomically wealthy as some of the other ladies in this series given their choice of artist. Fields passed away in 2007, having left a vast body of historical work on Cumberland County, NC as well as his portraits (none of which I could find online, alas.)
Next we have Brooklyn-born Gertrude Gretsch Astor (1923-1999), who married multimillionaire John Jacob Astor in September 1944. While she was technically a debutante, having made her debut at a grand party in 1941, she was also described as "non-social".
After 6 years of marriage to Astor and one child, a nasty and drawn-out divorce ensued, with Gertrude citing Astor's "innumerable and shameful associations with a variety of women" as the impetus for divorce proceedings. It was, as you could imagine, quite scandalous at the time. But don't feel too bad for Ms. Gretsch, as ultimately she was provided with $3,000 (or $28,000 in 2021) per month in alimony. She eventually got remarried to Italian director/playwright Sonio Coletti in 1968. Gertrude passed away on January 16, 1999.
Walter Charles Klett (1897-1966) was primarily known not for portraits but for his figurative paintings and commercial work for magazines such as Collier's, including this racist gem of a cover. Born in St. Louis, he attended the School of Fine Arts there before heading to Chicago in 1925. Three years later he and his wife moved to New York, where he remained until his death in 1966.
Klett published a very well-received guide to figurative paintings in 1948. Said one critic, "The artist declares he is a painter of women, and he definitely prefers glamorous women, and this predilection, he believes, damns him in the eyes of contemporary painters whose brushes are moved by anything but beauty." Klett's women are indeed glamorous, but there's also a sensuality about them that borders on classic pin-up style.
Up next is Mrs. John A. Morris, formerly known as Edna Brokaw. Edna, a statuesque (she was 5'10"!) beauty with a wicked tennis game, made her debut in 1928 and married John, a Harvard graduate/stockbroker on May 27, 1942. The wealthy Morris family was known for thoroughbred horse-racing and breeding, with their all-scarlet racing silks dating back to 1840. Dorothy Gray used Edna's portrait to advertise a fairly simplified, no-nonsense skincare routine, which seems fitting for her. And the mention of "grooming" makes me think they were possibly referencing the grooming and care of the Morris' horses, which was a priority in their lives – the family actually established an equine research library at the University of Kentucky.
While she certainly enjoyed the perks of being rich, such as growing up in a mansion on 5th Avenue in New York, Edna was not interested in the socialite lifestyle. "I didn't want to be a deb. I wanted to go to college so much, but for girls like me it just wasn't done. My mother would have none of it," she said in a 1985 interview. I know, I know, let's break out the world's smallest violin, but for someone like me who, for the most part, abhors social gatherings, being forced to attend them daily as a career of sorts is my idea of hell. Before she got married, Edna worked as a nurse's aide and attended secretarial school. She refused to marry John until she had secured a job, as she needed to prove she could be self-sufficient. She was also consistently active in fundraising efforts for Girl Scouts from the 1950s until her death in January 1997 at the age of 88. I enjoy this photo from the 1985 interview in which she's wearing the same pearl necklace from her portrait nearly 40 years prior.
Jerry Farnsworth (1895-1983) was born of meager means in northern Georgia. Growing up he didn't have any real exposure to art until the age of twenty, when he attended an art exhibition for the first time. From that point on he knew he wanted to be an artist. He married Helen Sawyer in 1925 when both were art students under Charles W. Hawthorne, founder of the Cape Cod School of Art. In looking at both of their work I can definitely see the influence.
Like his contemporary Alexander Brook, Farnsworth was best known for his portraits and his style didn't change much over time. One of his personal favorites was his portrait of Martha Truman, mother of the 33rd President of the United States, Harry Truman.
Farnsworth was also recognized for his magazine covers such as this depiction of Hitler with a dog, which appeared on the cover of the March 13, 1933 issue of Time magazine.
While I think his style is a bit livelier than Brook's, Farnsworth is not my favorite of this bunch. Still, I admire his dedication to arts education – he taught at many colleges, and he and his wife set up a summer art school in Massachusetts.
Coming in at portrait no. 5, here's Mrs. Farrell Steele, formerly known as Helen Fairfax Farrell. Helen was a textbook example of a Southern belle/debutante, coming from extreme wealth on both sides of her Nashville-based family.
Just to give you an idea of the kind of money we're talking about, Helen was the heiress to the Maxwell House coffee fortune. In 1925 her father purchased an English Tudor house situated on a 2,000 acre estate and named it Crieve Hall after his family's home in Northern Ireland. The family also had their own box at horse shows, and in 1940 Helen had $2,800 worth (or $52,600 in today's currency) of jewelry stolen from the family's summer home. I'm still trying to wrap my head around having that kind of cash.
Anyway, on October 7, 1944 at Crieve Hall, Helen married George S. Steele, a Yale graduate who worked for the Foreign Economic Administration in Washington DC. Exactly a year after their wedding day, the couple had a daughter. But the marriage would not last; just a few months later, in February 1946, Helen filed for divorce, citing "mental cruelty." While initially I had zero sympathy towards Helen and her family, I do feel bad that she was shipped off to boarding schools far away from her family growing up and then had to endure a marriage, however brief, to a possibly abusive husband. As you know, divorce back then was fairly stigmatized, especially among the wealthy whose every move was recorded by the press. I'm guessing many of the marriages between rich families were business mergers more than anything else, and they probably saw it as important to keep the money in the family for future generations. The fact that Helen got out of there so quickly and the official reason makes me think George was not a nice person. Of course, this is pure speculation and I hope that wasn't the case, and it's not my intent to go spouting baseless accusations. But something seemed off. Fortunately Helen got re-married to Theodore Mentis in 1971 and remained married to him until his death in 1982. Helen passed away in 2006.
Channing ("Uncle Bunny") Weir Hare was a noted society painter shuttling between his home base in Ogunquit, Maine and Palm Beach, Florida, so it stands to reason he captured Helen's likeness. Described as the "crown prince of society portrait artists," charging $3,000-$10,000 per portrait (or $44,000 – $146,000) as well as "flamboyant," Hare was known as much for holding elaborate parties for other artists and top socialites as he was for his art. Hare was also gay, though not legally out of the closet for most of his life – he separated from his wife, whom he married in 1929, but never divorced her, remaining married (on paper, anyway) until her death in 1966.
Hare bristled at being called a society painter, though society portraits allowed him to make a good enough living to eventually purchase a grand Mallorcan palace with a butler, chef and 16 servants. As Palm Beach portrait artist Richard Banks remarked in 1990, "Channing Hare could be vicious and cruel, but he was also a terribly funny guy who would just woo those ladies. He had bought a place in Majorca and when he knocked off a portrait, he'd say, 'Well, there's another bathroom for the house.'" He was also somewhat picky about who he chose to portray. "Please don't call me [a society painter], because when they call you that, they don't take your work seriously. Besides, I'm in too many good museums…often I paint people who just interest me," he noted in 1970.
Like Fields, Hare painted many people of note, including members of European royalty and the Vanderbilts in the U.S. He also did not work from photos unless it was absolutely necessary, preferring to paint from the memory of his experience meeting the sitter. Perhaps the reason he was able to command such renown was the fact that he often embellished the attractiveness of his sitters, painting them in the most flattering way even if it meant stretching reality a bit. "Channing's gift was to make people look their very best…he was very elegant himself, and a teensy bit snobbish. He was a portraitist, but he once told me, 'I don't like people, but I like some people'…with Channing, you never knew if he was telling the truth," reminisced former Palm Beach art dealer James Hunt Barker in 1997.
While portraits were his focus, Hare occasionally dabbled in still-life and Surrealism.
Hare passed away on February 12, 1976, leaving behind his adopted son Stephen "Stevie" Hare, who also became a painter.
Last one for today! Speaking of flamboyant, I wonder if Dorothy Gray chose to feature their "Flamboyant" shade to complement the bold red dress and lip color worn by Mrs. John W. Eiman, formerly known as Daisy Biddle.
On June 4, 1948, Daisy married John, a doctor (pathologist) who graduated from Princeton. Having grown up near Philly I can tell you the Biddles are very old money, and the places mentioned in the news coverage on Daisy (Bryn Mawr, Haverford, etc.) are part of what's known as the Main Line, a.k.a. one of the wealthiest areas in the U.S. But Daisy was not just your average rich socialite. She attended the prestigious Moore College of Art and Design, and later in life had her paintings included in several local exhibitions. I'm so disappointed I couldn't locate any photos of her work! While she hasn't updated her Facebook page since 2014, I couldn't find an obituary so I'm hoping she's actually still alive, enjoying her retirement in Vero Beach, Florida. 🙂
Born in Chicago in 1899, Roy Spreter arrived in the Philadelphia area in 1926 and remained there until his death in July 1967. While he was largely recognized for commercial illustration, later in life his talent as a portraitist was better acknowledged. Spreter created heartwarming, family-oriented ads and covers for the likes of Log Cabin syrup and the Woman's Home Companion, very much in the Norman Rockwell vein of illustration.
Interestingly, here's a 1927 portrait of Joel O. Cheek, grandfather of Helen Fairfax Farrell.
While I find Spreter's portraits to be much less saccharine and more visually appealing than his commercial work, I think it would have been very interesting to have Daisy paint a self-portrait and use that for the Dorothy Gray ad.
There are 5 ladies left which I will feature eventually. Right now I'll continue pondering why Dorothy Gray launched this campaign, how they chose the women they did, why they didn't use Hollywood starlets like other brands, etc. Obviously Dorothy Gray was trying to appeal to upper class customers and define good taste by linking their products with fine art and well-to-do ladies, but there must be more to it than that.
Here are some questions for you: which woman of these 6 would you liked to have lunch with, if any? And which artist would you commission to paint your portrait? While I think the vast wealth gap would make it impossible to befriend any of these women, I like to think I'd get along with Daisy since we could talk about art. And while I enjoy Hare's portrait style the most, I'd hire Bill Fields since he seemed the nicest. 🙂
Stay tuned for part 2, when I'll discuss the rest of the ladies' portraits and some lingering questions about the series.
While hunting for vintage Christmas makeup a few months ago I stumbled across a brand from the 1960s called Holiday Magic. This won't be a complete history either of the brand or the man who founded it, but it's one of the most compelling (for all the wrong reasons). Buckle up because you're in for a truly wild ride!
In 1964, a California salesman by the name of William Penn Patrick (b. March 31, 1930; d. June 9, 1973) noticed a neighbor having a garage sale of organic fruit-based cosmetics called Zolene. Sensing a new business opportunity, Patrick bought the entire stock for $16,250 (or about $137,000 today). Re-branded as Holiday Magic, Patrick proceeded to start selling them as a multi-level marketing business (MLM). Now, MLMs for cosmetics and other goods had been around for many years prior to Holiday Magic, such as Avon, Mary Kay, Watkins, Fuller Brush, etc. While their ethics are murky – on the one hand it gave people jobs and products that they otherwise wouldn't have access to, on the other they require fairly unsavory tactics – they are not technically against the law. But Holiday Magic wasn't just your average MLM: it was possibly the biggest pyramid scheme prior to Bernie Madoff.
Within a year of its launch, Holiday Magic had made Patrick a millionaire, and by 1967, the company was allegedly earning $6 million per month. The makeup products were quite average – nothing appears to be innovative about them. There was the standard eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, brow pencil, lipstick and blush. I would have had my own photos but I have no idea what happened to the objects I purchased from eBay, which sadly has become the norm these days. (It looks like tracking information was prepared but the package never was actually mailed. I've contacted the seller numerous times and have yet to receive a reply, let alone a refund. I guess William Penn Patrick is still working through others to scam customers from beyond the grave.)
While the makeup itself wasn't all that groundbreaking, the fruit-based skincare was fairly ahead of its time. The two women who founded Zolene, Helene Fly and Zoe Swanagon (hence the company's moniker, a combo of their first names), were committed to using fresh ingredients without preservatives, and did a lot of research on skincare recipes that had been circulating quite literally for centuries. They were even writing a cosmetics history book!
A lot of their products remind me of LUSH or 100% Pure's offerings. And I really wish I could find them, I love the Mid-Century Modern star packaging. Anyway, Zolene continued to supply Holiday Magic with its concoctions until 1967 when the founders became aware of Holiday Magic's business practices. But the company's lack of innovative makeup did not deter it from making a fortune for Patrick. In pyramid schemes, profit is not made by selling products but rather recruiting more salespeople – the products themselves have nothing to do with how the money is made, so it doesn't matter if they're any good. According to The Snapping Point, a website about business scams, the four characteristics that separate pyramid schemes from MLMs are:
the only way for consultants to make a profit is to recruit other consultants.
consultants are required to ‘inventory load’, or constantly inventory to profit.
consultants are operating in a ‘saturated market’, or a market where there are more sellers than buyers.
consultants are required to sell products for a fixed price (‘price-fixing’).
This book explains it in more detail. Basically, the only way for sales reps to make money was not by selling products but through essentially "buying" more sales people, convincing them to make an "investment" in the company. Unlike regular MLMs, where by the majority of product purchased by sales reps is actually sold to customers, in pyramid schemes most of the product does not reach them. In Holiday Magic's case, in 1967 it was estimated that 55% of their product was not distributed to customers, with sales reps having entire garages full of makeup. In 1973, an FTC attorney stated that he could find no evidence of products being sold directly to customers, only to "master" and "general" distributors, while the former president of Holiday Magic, Benjamin Gay, testified that less than 10% of products sold to distributors ever reached customers. "There could be sawdust in those jars. The cosmetics were there as a front," he said. The way in which Holiday Magic's hierarchy was arranged, Holiday "girls" could invest $18.91, "organizers" $109.71 to $501, "master" distributors $4,500 (plus a $250 training fee that was never mentioned until the investor signed the contract), and "general" distributors $8,750, plus training fees.
In addition, Patrick was known for other aggressive, highly immoral practices that went beyond pyramid selling. While Holiday Magic did not officially go bankrupt until 1974, as early as 1967 the company was charged by the California State Attorney General's office for "false and misleading advertising" in which the ads claimed distributors could make roughly $2200 a month (or $18,600 nowadays) working full-time. In retaliation, he took out full page newspaper ads attacking the state attorney general. Basically, any time the company faced a legitimate lawsuit, Patrick would double down and countersue, claiming that his constitutional rights were being violated. But the coup de grace was Leadership Dynamics, a "training institute" for Holiday Magic representatives established by Patrick and then-company president Gay in 1967. Sales agents were not required but "encouraged" to take a training course for a mere $1,000, while those higher up on the pyramid were required to take courses there. However, Leadership Dynamics was not so much training as it was torture; according to a 1972 exposé entitled The Pit, among the many cult-like techniques used to humiliate and brainwash sales reps were severe beatings, being locked naked in cages or tied to a cross, forced to sleep in coffins and, of course, racial slurs hurled at the Black attendees. I'm not sure how much of the book is true, but several newspaper articles as well as an article in Newsweek detail the abuse and numerous lawsuits brought about by attendees who supposedly sustained serious injuries.
The exceedingly punchable face of William Penn Patrick.
Patrick also dabbled in politics, running against Ronald Reagan in California's 1966 gubernatorial race as an "ultra-conservative Republican" with the slogan "Stop the Commies at Cal". Gee, color me shocked that a money-hungry narcissist was the complete opposite of liberal. His political views are not surprising; many rich white mediocre men truly believe the conservative myth that success is due to hard work (bootstraps!) and brilliance, rather than their own privilege, dumb luck or directly screwing over other people. Indeed, as one former Holiday Magic employee reminisced in 2016, "The whole organization (or lack of) was absolutely bizzare [sic], run by a bunch of frat boys with not a business degree among them. But they had a Phd in pyramid schemes." A couple of other tidbits:
In 1967, as president of the "Victory in Vietnam Committee" he attempted to run a recall campaign against an Idaho Democratic Senator, because you know when Democrats win an election it's because they stole the race (insert eyeroll here). When the AFL-CIO organized a boycott of Holiday Magic, Patrick promptly sued them.
His wife, Marie, was going to be a doctor but abandoned her plans shortly after marrying him to work as a teacher, largely to support them both after Patrick's string of failed businesses. Once Holiday Magic achieved success, she began attending meetings with Patrick because "otherwise, I'd never see him".
On September 24, 1972, one of Patrick's vintage planes, an F86 Sabre piloted by the general manager of Spectrum Air (another company owned by Patrick) crashed into an ice cream parlor shortly after takeoff. The pilot escaped with a few broken bones and scratches, while 22 on the ground died, including 10 children. Patrick wasn't directly responsible, but the fact that he allowed it to be flown speaks volumes about his complete disregard for others.
On June 9, 1973, Patrick died in a crash while performing stunts on another one of his vintage jets, a WWII plane called a P51 Mustang that, again, any regular citizen should not have had a license to own, let alone fly. He also managed to kill a colleague who was in the plane with him, a 30 year-old director of Holiday Magic in Finland named Christian George Hagert. SMDH.
A few months after his death and a spate of lawsuits in multiple states, as well as a $5 million suit from Avon, Holiday Magic's new president, along with Patrick's widow, announced that the line would be sold "along conventional marketing lines" and get rid of the pyramid aspect of their sales. They also promised a "fair" method of reimbursing roughly 3,000 of the Holiday Magic distributors in California who had been swindled. The SEC's ruling earlier that year claimed that 80,000 individuals had been bilked out of $250 million, so it's not clear what happened to the other 77,000 people who were ripped off. In May 1974 there was a class action settlement of over 31,000 members that established a trust fund of approximately $2.6 million, but that's pennies compared to the actual amount investors lost. Even in 1980 people were still writing to their local paper about the various lawsuits that had been filed and whether they'd get their money back.
But the big issue I wanted to highlight in this sordid tale is the fact that Holiday Magic seemed to have actively sought out Black communities in the U.S. to recruit distributors. While some other MLMs such as Avon, Fuller and Watkins targeted Black sales reps and customers, in their cases it seemed to be more a matter of expanding their market reach and at least supplying steady jobs rather than overtly preying on marginalized people. (Stay tuned for more about Black people's roles in various MLM cosmetic companies.)
I really wish I could find some numbers to further support my theory, but it appears the scheme disproportionately affected Black and other POC investors. "The real tragedy is that Holiday Magic appeals to minority people who want to get rich," remarked SEC staff lawyer Louis F. Burke. Patrick bragged in 1968 that 2 of his top 6 distributors in the U.S. were Black, but even if that were true, it's not necessarily a good thing. As a former distributor noted, Holiday Magic's setup was "like being thrown into a dark pit. The only way you can get out is to drag another person into the pit and step on his shoulders." For the most part, Black customers would only be further disenfranchised if they bought into Holiday Magic. As if that's not bad enough, the company didn't even attempt to formulate any products for deep skin tones. As one wise Black would-be Holiday Magic salesman pointed out in 1975, the line was intended for white people: "Holiday Magic packaged cosmetics for fair-skinned people. Now why in the world would I want to sell light lipstick to Black women?" At least Avon tried to come up with products that would be suitable for Black customers.
(images from ebay)
In the UK, it's estimated that the West Indian community lost £33 million in the early 1970s, and 26 people committed suicide after losing everything. These figures are somewhat corroborated by a British publication called Grassroots, which in 1974 reported that Holiday Magic targeted "almost exclusively West Indian and Asian communities" in the Midlands region. It's incredibly heartbreaking considering that people were taking out second mortgages on their homes to sink £1,000 into becoming a Holiday Magic distributor, only to end up paying at least double that in the long run and ending up far worse off financially than they were before. Note: I know nothing about this Grassroots publication and have no idea how reliable it is, but I don't think their claims are completely baseless.
It was obvious early on that Patrick was going beyond an MLM and into pyramid scheme territory along with the other illegal sales tactics, yet Holiday Magic was being advertised nationally in well-known publications as late as 1969, and still being sold in pyramid form through 1973. (A new Holiday Magic line with a less deceptive sales model was sold through the mid-'80s.) Perhaps it was a combination of systemic racism and his unbridled wealth that Patrick's sham wasn't stopped before it did so much damage. Maybe if he targeted only wealthy white people he would have been shut down sooner? Then again, Madoff did just that for about the same amount of time.
Anyway, despite what the show's creators say, I think the short-lived TV series On Becoming a God in Central Florida was based mostly on Holiday Magic – even more so than Amway. Everything, from the cult-like behavior and "motivational" mantras spewed by Patrick to the garages full of product and targeting of BIPOC communities has an uncanny resemblance to Holiday Magic.
Thoughts? Had you ever heard of this brand? I promise I have a much more positive story on the way. 😉
Sources: In addition to the links throughout this post, here are some newspaper articles used.
"Holiday Magic Inc. Offers Tasty Cosmetic Products," Asbury Park Press, September 17, 1967.
"The Real William Penn Patrick," Daily Independent Journal (San Rafael, CA), December 28, 1968.
"Cosmetics Firm Files Suit Against Competitors," Harford Courant, May 18, 1972.
"'Torture Training' Basis for Suit by Students," Associated Press, August 16, 1972.
"22 Die as Ex-Fighter Jet Hits Ice Cream Parlor," Chicago Tribune, September 25, 1972.
"Patrick Hit With $5.2 Million Suit," Daily Independent Journal, October 19, 1972.
"Holiday Magic Hit With Two Big Suits," Daily Independent Journal, February 22, 1973.
"4.2 Million Suit Names Patrick," San Francisco Examiner, March 19, 1973.
"The Magic Pyramid," Daniel Grotta, The Philadelphia Inquirer, April 8, 1973.
"William Penn Patrick, Cosmetics Millionaire, Dies in Plane Crash," The Fresno Bee, June 10, 1973.
"Quiet Helpmate at Patrick Empire Helm," Daily Independent Journal, August 1, 1973.
"20.3 Million Suit Against Patrick Firm," Daily Independent Journal, September 29, 1973.
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?
It's hard to believe I haven't done a Halloween roundup since 2016, but here we are. Hopefully this post will compensate for the makeup I missed the past couple of years, as cosmetic companies continue churning out spooky and fun collections. I would have purchased some for the Museum, but by the time I made up my mind about which ones to add they had sold out and weren't restocked in time to arrive by Halloween. It says something about the demand when these collections are released in late September and sell out immediately…I think consumers and businesses are feeding off each other, both creating the increased frenzy for Halloween-themed makeup collections.
I'm not the biggest fan of either The Nightmare Before Christmas or Hocus Pocus – I've never even seen the latter – but I will hopefully add them to the Museum's collection as I thought they were cute and culturally significant enough to warrant purchasing.
I should probably re-watch Beetlejuice. As a kid it scared me half to death but obviously as an adult I should be able to handle it, plus it's got a good cast. This Melt collection would go nicely with Hot Topic's Handbook for the Recently Deceased palette I bought in 2018.
And now for a couple vintage pieces. I'm pleased to have added this Glebeas (pronounced glee-bay) to the Museum's spiderweb collection. Even though I hate spiders there are some great objects with spiderweb designs. You can read the whole history of Glebeas and see some of their other spiderweb packaging over at Collecting Vintage Compacts.
About three years ago I found a brass version of Volupte's awesome cobweb compact for a very good price in excellent condition and an original ad. The compact dates to about 1946-1952 and there were many variations, including sterling silver and 14kt gold, along with butterflies and ladybugs that had the misfortune of getting caught in the spider's lair.
Interestingly, the spiderweb design was created by Josephine Forrestal, a Vogue writer turned military wife. According to the patent the compact was originally intended for Paul Flato, for whom she created other compacts, so how it ended up with Volupte I'm not sure.
And a makeup room in Illinois said to be haunted by the deceased director of the Peoria Players Theater:
I hope you have a fun Halloween! Are you dressing up? I am not but the plushies and I will be eating copious amounts of candy, of course.
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!
Almost as much as flowers, fruit, and butterflies, the signs of the zodiac are leading choices for modern cosmetics collections and beauty inspiration. As a new sign season (Taurus) descends today, I thought it would be an appropriate time to provide a visual history of zodiac beauty and trace the ebb and flow of its popularity in the U.S. As we'll see, the two main components of this particular category (zodiac-themed packaging and beauty tips/makeup looks based on one's sign) and the reasons behind their prevalence at certain times really haven't changed much in the past 100 years.
The story arguably begins in the late 1600s in Europe, when British satire poet Samuel Butler suggested that women used beauty patches to indicate their sun sign. As Aileen Ribeiro explains in Facing Beauty, "According to astrology, certain areas of the face were governed by the signs of the zodiac – Capricorn the chin, Aquarius the left eye, and so on – so that patches placed on the face could echo this respectable link, this time equating such sites with emotions related to love and sexual invitation; this game, perhaps not taken seriously by women at least, was played well into the eighteenth century."1 While I'd love to delve deeper to see if there were any other horoscope beauty mentions prior to then and between the 1700s to the 1900s, I've accepted that I need to fast forward to the modern beauty era. The zodiac-based beauty advice that appears in nearly every online fashionpublicationnowadays has its roots in the 1920s, when an "authority on beauty"/astrology student declared that "the planets will guide one in using cosmetics" at the American Cosmetician's Society convention.
Zodiac beauty remained relatively obscure in the '30s and '40s. Poudre d'Orsay's use of the zodiac for its face powder containers remains a mystery. As far as I know it did not appear anywhere else in their line of powders and perfumes. Perhaps it's a reference to a detail on a historic building, much like the graphics on Cedib's Arc de Triomph powder, but that's just speculation.
The May 1, 1941 issue of Vogue featured a shop that sold an "all-purpose" cream with ingredients based not on one's skin needs but their zodiac sign. This is possibly the first zodiac-specialized beauty product in the modern era.
As compact sales grew exponentially in the '30s and '40s, zodiac-themed cases offered an alternative to monogramming in terms of customization.
(image from newspapers.com)
The short-lived Ziegfeld Girls brand launched lucite zodiac compacts in 1946, which you can read more about here.
Why this Scorpio compact included a brochure for Capricorn I don't know, but it's interesting to see.
Just two years later Elgin American got in on the zodiac compact game by introducing their "Zany Zodiac" line. The illustrations and rhymes were devised by Stan MacNiel, a Scotsman and former British army captain. He was quite the character and I encourage you to check out my post on him and the Elgin line.
Advertising for both the Ziegfeld Girls and Elgin American compacts emphasize the individualization aspect of the zodiac. Despite the millions of people that share the same sign, zodiac compacts were "all about you" and "individually styled."
As monogrammed compacts gradually became less popular by the mid-20th century, so too did those bearing individual signs. A shift towards including all twelve symbols became more common.
Zodiac-themed compacts from the '50s though the early '70s tended to include all the sun signs.
Clockwise from top left: unmarked Scorpio compact (1950s), Max Factor (1971), Zenette (ca. 1950s), Wadsworth (ca. early 1950s), Kigu (ca. 1950s-70s), Stratton (1969), Le Rage (1950s)
The late 1960s, with its tumultuous social revolution and economic and political uncertainty, is when the astrology craze firmly took hold in American culture. This in turn led to not only zodiac-themed collections but a slew of beauty horoscopes.
These pre-date Fresh's zodiac soaps by nearly 50 years!
Actress Arlene Dahl, who had been penning beauty horoscopes since 1963, published her "Beauty Scope" books in 1969. I need to get my hands on a couple copies but in the meantime check out this blogger's review.
Some beauty companies took a different, less labor-intensive route than producing and marketing zodiac-themed collections: they began recommending products from their existing lineup for each sign.
As the astrology fad waned in the mid-late '70s, due in part to scientist killjoys, so too did zodiac beauty. Save for this 1978 Maybelline ad, I was hard pressed to find any other zodiac-themed makeup until the mid '80s.
Zodiac beauty got a little boost during the greed-is-good era, when makeup artist Linda Mason published a book entitled Sun Sign Makeovers in 1985. Like Dahl's series, the book offered specific beauty tips and makeup looks for each sign. Just a couple years afterwards, Mason released her own line of astrology-inspired makeup called Elements, some of which can still be purchased today (with different packaging). There was a "moodkit" for each sign and specialized kits for eyes, cheeks and lips. By the way, in looking these up and learning more about Mason I discovered that her work is exactly one of the main things the Museum is intended for: the intersection of art and makeup. If travel is ever remotely safe again I'm definitely going to check out her store/art gallery in Soho, it sounds dreamy! It's literally called The Art of Beauty.
Maybelline also tried to re-ignite the zodiac beauty flame in 1988 with individual eyeshadows. First lady Nancy Reagan regularly consulted an astrologer during her husband's tenure, a fact made public that same year, so perhaps this news snippet isn't too far off base. (The shades are listed above in a separate clip for reference.)
The '90s and early 2000s experienced a resurgence of zodiac-themed beauty. Nostalgia for '60s counterculture (in which the fascination with astrology played a big role) as well as the renewed interest in customized beauty products were the major drivers of the trend. While Estée Lauder's compacts – another you can still buy today! – were geared more towards adults, many zodiac-themed products seemed to be intended for teens.
Demonstrating that beauty trends are cyclical, the zodiac fad waned again in the late aughts and early 2010s. But around rumblings began in 2015 with Fresh's zodiac soaps and crescendoed to a roar by 2018. Both Fresh and Bite borrowed a page from Flori Roberts and collaborated with noted astrologers for their collections – Susan Miller in the case of Fresh and Tara Greene for Bite.
Wet n Wild (summer 2018), Fresh Sugar lip balm (fall 2018), Colourpop x Kathleen Lights zodiac eyeshadow palette (summer 2018) and single eyeshadows (summer 2019), Missha cushion compact (ca. 2018), Bite Beauty Scorpio lipstick (fall 2018), The Creme Shop sheet mask (fall 2018)
But wait, there's more! These are the ones not in the Museum's collection but still worth a mention. The Milk Makeup zodiac stamps are a thoroughly modern twist on the beauty patches idea from several centuries ago, no? When applied on the face I'd imagine they'd look like beauty marks, albeit ones with a highly specific design.
Besides beauty tips and products, the increased usage of social media meant that by 2018 Instagram makeup artists were sharing some very elaborate zodiac looks.
Lest you think these not-so-wearable looks are solely the creation of 21st century influencers, here's a 1984 Australian beauty pageant where contestants were challenged to come up with the most over-the-top "fantasy" zodiac makeup.
The packaging and design of all of these objects and looks are interesting in their own right, but why does zodiac makeup trend more at certain times? And why is it experiencing what may be the peak of popularity during the past 2 years? There are several reasons. First, zodiac-themed beauty tends to follow a wider cultural interest in astrology and New Age practices more generally (crystals, tarot cards, etc.). Businesses are always eager to profit from the latest fad, and the beauty industry is no exception. The "mystical and psychic services market" was worth $2.2 billion in 2019 according to this trend forecaster. As Saffron of the Beauty Critic points out, astrology-themed makeup fits within the broader context of New Age/occult-inspired beauty and wellness products we're seeing now as a result. And in the Age of Aquarius, companies introduced hundreds of zodiac-themed products. Linda Goodman's 1968 Sun Signs was the first book on astrology to become a New York Times bestseller; by 1971, astrology was a $200 million dollar a year business in the U.S.2 Even Dali got in on the action.
The interest in astrology points to larger societal shifts and is driven primarily by younger generations just as it was some 50 years ago.3 Millennials and Generation Z are reporting higher rates of stress than older generations, and are increasingly turning to astrology and other New Age phenomena to cope. As the Atlantic explained in 2018, "According to American Psychological Association survey data, since 2014, Millennials have been the most stressed generation, and also the generation most likely to say their stress has increased in the past year since 2010. Millennials and Gen Xers have been significantly more stressed than older generations since 2012. And Americans as a whole have seen increased stress because of the political tumult since the 2016 presidential election. The 2017 edition of the APA’s survey found that 63 percent of Americans said they were significantly stressed about their country’s future. Fifty-six percent of people said reading the news stresses them out, and Millennials and Gen Xers were significantly more likely than older people to say so. Lately that news often deals with political infighting, climate change, global crises, and the threat of nuclear war. If stress makes astrology look shinier, it’s not surprising that more seem to be drawn to it now." Case in point: this "stress-busting" insert from a recent Sephora Play! box detailing what beauty products will help with relaxation based on one's sign.
The decline of organized religion and the expansion of the Internet's capabilities are also factors in astrology's revival.3 In 1972 one journalist cited two key reasons for the surge in astrology's rise: "fear in an uncertain time and the failure of orthodox religion to give meaning to problems."4 The same can be said for today's environment. Jessica Roy, writing for the L.A. Times in 2019, details the shift away from traditional religion and the resulting turn towards astrology. "Today, young people still seek the things that traditional organized religion may have provided for their parents or grandparents: religious beliefs, yes, but also a sense of community, guidance, purpose and meaning. But it can be hard for young people to find those things in their parents’ religions. So they’re looking elsewhere. On top of that, a lot of younger people feel alienated by mainstream religion — by attitudes toward LGBTQ people and women, by years of headlines about scandals and coverups, or by the idea that anyone who isn’t part of that religion is inherently bad or wrong…Before the internet, people who held beliefs outside the mainstream — religious, political or otherwise — lacked a public way to connect with one another. With social media, divinatory practices like astrology, crystals and tarot have been able to take up space in a public conversation. It helps that they all look great on Instagram…Young people have grown up contending with a major recession, climate change and a more general awareness of seeing a political and economic system that many feel hasn’t benefited them, so it’s not surprising that they’re pushing back against those systems at the same time they’re exploring nontraditional religious beliefs and finding ways to integrate it all."
As for modern technology, the New Yorker further lays out how the Internet and social media allowed astrology to be more accessible and at a much faster pace than before. "[Astrology] promises to get to answers more quickly. For centuries, drawing an astrological chart required some familiarity with astronomy and geometry. Today, a chart can be generated instantly, and for free, on the Internet. Astrology is ubiquitous on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, and in downloadable workshops, classes, and Webinars. A new frontier has opened with mobile apps." While the Internet has radically changed, well, everything, in 1970 some of the first computers were being used to generate horoscopes, with companies pouring millions into new technology just as they are now for the same reason – increased speed of delivery to meet demand.
The second major factor in zodiac beauty's ubiquity is customization. Consumers like to think they're getting a product made or intended just for them. Customization in beauty is trending more heavily than ever before, from nearly every company offering engraving services to personal consultation apps. And astrology is a fairly simple way to advertise a seemingly individualized product. In an interview with WWD, Fresh's chief marketing officer highlighted the trend of "customization and personalization" in the industry. She also noted that "the collaboration was particularly successful in China, which she attributed to Chinese Millennials and their obsession with the zodiac." It's a great point about Chinese zodiac beauty products as there's been an equally explosive rise in lunar new year-themed beauty products in the past few years, many of them depicting the animal corresponding to the year. (See also Shiseido's Chinese zodiac figurines.)5 I think the growing interest in C-beauty is also partially responsible.
The customized aspect of zodiac-themed beauty parallels the personalization options in astrology and other New Age trends. One doesn't have to become a certified astrologer to enjoy horoscopes; they can pick and choose whatever suits them. Roy again: "[Millennials] dabble, they find what they like, they take what works for them and leave the rest…spiritual practices appeal to the commitment-wary: You can get a little into crystals or astrology or tarot, or a lot into it. You can buy a few rose quartzes or light a few candles and if it’s meaningful for you, keep it; if not, it’s not like you went through a full religious conversion."
As noted earlier, another time that was popular for customization was the "golden age" of compacts in the '40 and '50s, where many were engraved as personalized gifts or event keepsakes. Some were even designed with spaces specifically to add monograms. Perhaps that explains why two major compact manufacturers decided to add to their repertoire with zodiac lines.
Finally, on a more basic level, the visual appeal of zodiac imagery is fairly irresistible. There are as many different ways to depict zodiac signs as there are artists. Whether it's the caricatures illustrated by Stan MacNiel for Elgin, the refined style of Poudre d'Orsay, or the minimalist approach taken by Demeter, even if customers aren't astrology fans the designs will draw them in. In looking at the Museum's zodiac collection one would suspect I obsessively read horoscope predictions and plan my life around the alignments of stars and planets, but I'm actually not into astrology. I check out my horoscope from time to time just for fun, but the reality is that I collect zodiac makeup mostly because I enjoy looking at the artwork. The fact that it's prominent in makeup history and belongs in a museum is, admittedly, simply an added bonus. The otherworldly nature of the creatures and constellations combined with the twelve symbol structure satisfies both the imagination and the need for orderliness. Plus as a former art history major, it's fascinating to see different artists' takes on the zodiac.
What object here is your favorite? Would you ever try a makeup look or product based on your sign?
1Aileen Ribeiro, Facing Beauty, Yale University Press, 2011, p. 132.
2Barbara Holsopple, "A Longing for Things to Be Put Right", Pittsburgh Press, April 4, 1971.
3It's out of print, but if you're interested I bet this book is great if you're looking specifically for a cultural history of astrology. Or at least, it was the only one I could find.
4Mary Turczyn, "What is the Occult?", Fond du Lac Commonwealth Reporter, March 22, 1972. She adds, "In a poll taken in 1967, 57% said that religion was losing its influence on American life. With religion no longer the bulwark of society, people seek answers in other areas and astrology has rallied as one of these."
5For the purposes of expediency and so as not to be all over the place I chose to focus on the modern, Western zodiac rather than exploring the Chinese zodiac in beauty products. I do wonder how far back it goes…I'm envisioning powder containers hundreds of years old in the shape of dragons and other Chinese zodiac animals. Must research!
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. 😉
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I'm thinking there has to be a vintage makeup fan among Les Merveilleuses Ladurée's design and marketing team, since their holiday 2019 collection carries on the tradition of yet another popular motif for beauty packaging: the swan. This graceful bird also ties into the company's commitment to infusing their line with the style introduced by the Merveilleuses. Let's look at the collection and all its downy soft details.
Can I just say how much I love the color scheme? The blue is so perfect – not too bright, not too aqua, not too dark – and plays amazingly well against the pink and white of the makeup shades and swan imagery. First we have the brightening powder. The outer case depicts a swan holding a rose in its beak, while the powder itself is embossed with a white swan swimming in a pastel-colored lake.
Next is this beautiful set containing a double swan-embossed blush and lipstick, housed in a blue embroidered pouch with a tiny silver swan for the zipper pull.
Lastly is the star of the collection, a white swan-shaped jar filled with blush "roses". LM Ladurée is famous for their blush resembling rose petals, but these are next level.
I couldn't bear to open the blush itself, but it looks like this.
Even the box is gorgeously printed with pristine white swan feathers.
So how do swans relate to the Merveilleuses? Prior to becoming Empress in 1804, Josephine was one of the most revered Merveilleuses, possibly even more so than Madame Recamier. While the more over-the-top Merveilleuse trends generally died down after Napoleon rose to power, Josephine was still considered a top arbiter of style. During her time as Empress she also adopted the swan as her signature motif. According to the Met: "At the approach of danger, with feathers puffed up and anxiously hissing, these birds protect their young within the wall of their white wings. Napoleon's consort, Josephine, and her children were frequently compared to a swan and its cygnets. The swan was chosen as her symbol by Claude, wife of Francis I, the French Renaissance king whom Napoleon greatly admired." Thus the reason for the abundance of swan decor at her and Napoleon's residence, the Château de Malmaison.
In addition to serving as one of the Empress's emblems, swans have a long history in the world of cosmetics, most likely since they are one of the symbols associated with Aphrodite/Venus, goddess of love and beauty.1 Vintage compacts with images of swans abound.2
Coty's "Golden Swan" sets were perennial holiday favorites from about 1950-1955. I stumbled across some newspaper ads for them, and lo and behold this great blog on Coty's history had an actual photo.
I couldn't find a real-life photo of this swan lipstick bouquet but it's fantastic. I'm guessing they're copying and expanding on the concept of Max Factor's popular flower pot lipstick set, which debuted in 1969.
I couldn't resist picking up a few vintage swan items for the Museum, including these adorable lipstick hankerchiefs (ca. 1940s-50s) and a lipstick case (ca. 1980s).
I think this vintage powder jar may have been LM Ladurée's inspiration. They came in a variety of colors, and the little niche created by the swans' wings was intended to store a lipstick.
All of these are lovely, but Tetlow's Swan Down face powder and accompanying ads are my favorite vintage swan-themed pieces…and they don't even depict swans on the outer packaging! Tetlow's Swan Down powder was introduced in 1875 and sold through the early 1930s. Collecting Vintage Compacts has a very thorough history of Henry Tetlow if you'd like to read more.
I was so pleased to get this one in good condition for the Museum along with an original ad.
While the one I have is in good shape, I'd love to own one of these boxes that still has the swan insert!
As was the case for many goods in the late 1800s and early 1900s, Tetlow's used small trading cards to advertise Swan Down. The portraits depict various stage actresses and other fashionable ladies of the time. The fan shape is a nice touch.
Another item I've become rather enamored of are vintage swan's down puffs. Before the dawn of synthetic brushes and puffs, in the Western world swan's down was one of the most common materials to apply powder in addition to silk and lambswool. The swan's down really is incredibly soft! (I forgot to take a picture of the vintage puff I bought…stay tuned for an update.)
I would love to try it out and compare it to my softest squirrel hair brushes but it's so fragile I'm afraid it would get ruined. And as I learned, vintage swan's down puffs are not cheap, especially the ones with sterling silver handles (drool).
Fast-forward to the 21st century, when some more swan-themed items joined their vintage counterparts. Here's what I'm sure is an incomplete group. Also, I guess I should give an honorary mention to Etude House's 2015 Dreaming Swan collection, which oddly enough did not feature any swans on the packaging.
Who can forget the frenzy over the makeup for the 2010 film Black Swan? This kit contained each element of the look.
Sugar Cosmetics chose a swan for their clarifying sheet mask packaging.
Finally, here are the other contemporary swan treasures in the Museum's collection: a Paul and Joe eyeshadow from their fall 2010 collection and Guerlain's spring 2018 Blanc de Perle compact, which was a collaboration with Ros Lee.
So that about wraps it up! What do you think of the swan motif both for Empire-era decor and makeup? Which piece here is your favorite?
Alexander Brook (1898-1980) was a New York-based Realist painter known for his portraits and landscapes. While recovering from a bout of polio at the age of 12, he became interested in art. A few years later he enrolled at the Art Students League, and by the 1920s he was exhibiting at what would become the Whitney Museum. Brook was one of the most highly renowned American painters of his time, having multiple solo exhibitions across the country. Personally, I can't say I'm fond of his work. There's a sadness about his subjects that I'm not sure comes from the way he chose to paint them or if they were melancholy on their own. 
Walter Charles Klett (1897-1966) was primarily known not for portraits but for his figurative paintings and commercial work for magazines such as Collier's, including this racist gem of a cover. Born in St. Louis, he attended the School of Fine Arts there before heading to Chicago in 1925. Three years later he and his wife moved to New York, where he remained until his death in 1966. 
(image from christies.com)
