The scenes that have stuck with me are all over the cinematic spectrum. They include but are in no means limited to Cameron killing the car in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, the dance competition in Pulp Fiction, the final (although completely textually incorrect) kiss in the new Pride and Prejudice, the bedroom situation in Barefoot in the Park, Buffalo Gals from It's a Wonderful Life, all of the faces that melted in Raiders of the Lost Arc, and Eva Amurri's entire character arc in Saved! Don't ask why these stick with me because I honestly have no idea. Sometimes, there is no rational explanation as to why something makes an impression. Case in point: the subway grate scene in The Seven Year Itch.
Marilyn Monroe has had many, many moments in the spotlight. From her cute calendar shots while still a brunette to her breathy birthday serenade to a certain president, it's safe to say her image has thoroughly sunk into the minds of her audience. However, in The Seven Year Itch one scene in particular has made it onto the list of most iconic images of the 20th century. Nine out of ten readers already know what I'm talking about but for that confused cultural ingenue, let me drop you a few clues: it involves a white dress, a city sidewalk grate, and a whole lot of updraft. I love Miss Monroe, honestly and truly but I just don't get that scene. I know it's supposed to be purely provocative, showing much more of the bombshell than most people had probably seen. And yeah, it is hecka sexy. However, in real life NO ONE would have reacted in such casual, dare I say, even inviting manner. It was the 1950s, for goodness sake! If a woman (even if that woman was Mega Fox Monroe) was out, walking around on a date and all of sudden her skirt flies up all around her face, that's a reason to be mortified not amused. It's not cause to laugh, honey pie, it's cause to hail the next cab and call it a night!
Okay. Maybe I'm overreacting but my own Marilyn moments have not been few and far between. I mean, I live in a city, and I had to wear some sort of skirtlike uniform almost every day for thirteen years. Embarrassing moments abounded. I remember walking from my middle school building to church for mass on particularly windy Wednesdays, clutching the extra fabric of my jumper tight against my legs to protect my dignity. While waiting for the downtown bus home from high school, the rush of the passing traffic stirred my plaid skirt, flirting with the dangerous idea of being flipped. Legend has it that once a girl's skirt flew up and someone noticed she was wearing the Wednesday pair of day-of-the-week underwear on a Friday. She died of embarrassment and shame that weekend. See, Norma Jean? It's all fun and games until someone mentions your unmentionables.
So what's a lady such as myself to do when it's as blustery as it has been? The easy way out would be to swallow my pride and slap on a pair of slacks and a bowler hat and Charlie Chaplin the shit out of this weather. Easy peasy, lemon squeezie. However, you should know by now dear readers that I am not one to normally 1.) take the easy way out, and 2.) wear pants. I just adore skirts and dresses. It might be getting to the point of obsession, and yes, I'm looking into getting help. But before they try to make me go to rehab, I come with wisdom for my fellow ladies for these last windy weeks of winter. I come bearing pencil skirts.
I could go on and on about pencil skirts. Seriously. I think I own more pencil skirts than anything else, with the exception of underwear. I'm pretty sure I even have two of the exact same color and style because I was certain something terrible would happen to one, leaving me skirtless and depressed. Again, I know how crazy I must sound but if you would just give me a moment to explain, I'm sure I can convince you to love the cut as much as I do.
The pencil skirt has been a savior in the fashion world on many levels. First, and possibly most importantly, the pencil skirt saved a woman from the horror that is the hobble skirt. For those of you that don't know already, the hobble skirt is a sort of insane piece of clothing. Imagine a maxi skirt that is bound at the bottom with a scrunchi, right above the ankles. I know, completely ridiculous but it was all the rage around the turn of the 20th century. The simplicity of the pencil skirt made it a savior in yet another way. During World War I, fabric was being rationed in order to adequately clothe the armed forces. Fashion designers and home sewers alike had to make do with the material they had. The pencil silhouette came into fashion during war times because although it was full length, its simple, straight construction lacked the extra embellishments previous eras had favored. It used little fabric while still being a modest piece for a woman's closet.
In 1940, Christian Dior brought the pencil skirt from the floor to the knee. The designer felt that hiding a woman's leg was an outdated practice for an increasingly modern world. This modified version retained its form-fitting shape, and, to help women move, was equipped with a small split or pleat down the last few edges on the back, also known as a kick pleat.
The pencil skirt has recently regained popularity in today's chic communities for what I believe are a few reasons. As I stated in my last post, trends are becoming more and more perpetuated by television, and I feel what Mad Men did for suits it also did for pencil skirts. Just look at the costume choices for each female character. You have Betty, who is normally clad in the fuller skirts featured in Dior's New Look. Betty is also kind of a bitch. And crazy. In the viewer's unconscious mind, she's associating the princess dresses of the 1950s with high maintenance and short fuses. Now take Joan, who is quite the fan of the pencil skirt and its close cousin, the pencil dress. Joan is clever, ambitious, and the object of most envy and desire. Again, the unconscious association is that pencil skirts are for all the honeys who make the money, the Alpha Females.
Another theory I have is that fashion molds itself around what's happening culturally. If you look back on the past decade of style, you can clearly see a theme of ease. Denim came back in full force, showcasing three fresh cuts which we all hemmed and hawed over: the baggy boyfriend, the skinny stovepipe (which will constantly be my go-to), and the surprisingly flattering wide leg. Athletic wear (unfortunately) drifted over the line into everyday wear, and graphic tees helped you say what was on your mind in 140 sassy characters before the boom of Twitter. Oh, and Crocs, of which there is not much to say but don't. To me, it was almost as if the abrupt terrorism and following war affected our wardrobes. Consumers sought out comfort; we wanted things that fit and things that were familiar. We wanted clothing that we believed to be distinctly American, even though a majority of it was produced in a foreign country. Blue jeans and tee shirts became our uniform, our symbol of solidarity. Unfortunately, this didn't leave a lot of room for femininity.
Now, I'm not about to say that our battle as a country is over, that our need to stand together is through. But I do feel as if there is a shift in our morale, which translates to what we wear. We want to grow as individuals, we want a fresh start, a strong foundation. We want definition. Speaking with a women's point of view, I think we all want a little more fantasy, a little more fun, a little more escape. A lot of people laugh at the hipster movement, the manic pixie dream girl, and the club kid style but as someone who has dipped my toes into these pools from time to time there's a sense of relief that comes from playing with your clothing, allowing yourself to have fun and enjoy your own flair. As a leading world power, Americans are asked to keep a stiff upper lip, which can get incredibly exhausting.
But back to the skirt. A pencil skirt is quite possibly the best of both worlds. For a woman, it is both functional and fantastic. Like other skirts, it's completely feminine; with the exception of Marc Jacobs, Scotsmen, and drag queens, it's a rarity to see a man in a skirt. While some may see that as sexist and oppressive, I see it quite differently. Women get to have something men don't have. Yes, it's a one-up in the dressing room but a small victory is a victory nonetheless. I see the pencil skirt as victorious, a symbol of confidence and drive. Women wouldn't settle for the hobble skirt. Women wouldn't settle with the floor length, either. Women wanted it all. The pencil skirt is a symbol of our ability to transition. It can easily go from the work day to a night out, with a few changes in accessory. Unfortunately, I feel a lot of women are scared to wear them, believing the cut to be unflattering, showing off just how overweight/round/undefined/other negative comment they really are. I had a similar mindset about the skirt but much like a healthy habit, the more you do it the more you like doing it. The pencil skirt celebrates the female figure. Woman are supposed to have curves, peaks and valleys that move softly and fluidly. The pencil skirt shows what your momma gave you. You are worth celebrating, and this skirt knows it.
The pencil skirt is incredibly flexible. While the cut is classic in suiting material such as houndstooth and wool, many designers are presenting them in jersey, leather, and even neoprene (yeah, swimsuit fabric). For work, a nice woven blouse tucked in looks incredibly sharp but other pairing options can include a cashmere sweater or even a nice jersey v-neck shirt in rich jewel tones, such as Pantone's color of the year, emerald. Also, a cami-and-cardi combo is always a go-to when you're on the go. For casual days, I love pairing a high waisted pencil skirt with an optically interesting graphic tee, sleeves rolled up greaser-style. High-waisted pencil skirts are also great with those crop tops we all hoarded this summer; it's more modest than jeans but still leaves a little seductive sliver of skin peeking out. Pencils are great with both flats and heels, but if you do choose flats take note that you're not breaking up the line of your leg too much. You've got great gams, sunshine. It'd be a damn shame not to show them off, especially in a skirt like this.
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