Vintage Taiwan No. 3: Friends (and some thoughts)

I love this because the girl on the left is wearing a western-style sundress and her companion has on a traditional qipao

Here are a few more vintage photos I bought from an antique store in Taipei -- including one in color! The stone formation is called the Queen's Head (女王頭), a very famous landmark in Yehliu on the north coast of Taiwan. It's slowly eroding, so I bet tourists aren't allowed to casually lean against it anymore.

After I posted my first series of vintage Taiwan photographs, Threadbared included my blog post in a collection of writings by different bloggers on vintage fashion, race and politics. That entry was re-posted on Racialicious and picked up by Jezebel (Fashion for Writers' Jenny also wrote her own insightful and moving post on the subject).

I was surprised by some of the comments on Racialicious (which I am a fan of) and Jezebel -- many were dismissive of the issues that the other bloggers and I raised. Many commenters basically said, "what's the big deal?" or "I like vintage because it's pretty and I don't think it's worth politicizing."

I feel those responses missed the point of our posts (Julia at à l'allure garçonnière wrote a very thoughtful response). The main reason I enjoy vintage clothing is because it is pretty and different from what I can find in mainstream stores. It's not like race and identity politics are foremost on my mind when I go vintage shopping. But being able to take pleasure in the lush folds of a 1950s dress or a shimmery 1960s evening sheath doesn't mean I can't also devote brain space to thinking about the more difficult issues vintage collecting brings up. The two aren't mutually exclusive. In my case, I'm taking advantage of the opportunity to be mindful about the injustices dealt to Asian Americans and other minorities in the US during the last century, as well the more difficult aspects of Taiwan's social and political history.

I am absolutely not saying vintage enthusiasts who don't think about those issues are shallow; my passion for vintage fashion and design just happens to intersect with my interest in social history. I'm grateful for that because it makes the past come alive in a very immediate way.

On a semi-related topic -- I post these photos because they are novel to me. I rarely see photos of Asian people from before the 1980s doing "everyday" things (i.e. not posing with a dragon or giant pair of chopsticks in an advertisement or something). My family's old photographs are scattered among various relatives, so even those are hard for me to get ahold of. Whenever I stumble upon photos like the ones above, I feel a certain sense of glee -- and relief -- that's hard to put into words.

But I am also cognizant of idealizing the people in the photos. I try to remind myself that they were more than just the cute clothes they are wearing (that I want in my own closet). I know nothing about these people, just that for one moment they posed for a photo that somehow ended up in my hands. I'm planning to re-read "On Photography" by Susan Sontag and "Camera Lucida" by Roland Barthes so I can better articulate my feelings on this issue.

Any thoughts on either of these topics (vintage clothing and politics/race or collecting vintage photographs)? I'd love to hear your feedback.

Cosmetics: how much does the outside count?

All photos by me unless otherwise noted

Above photo from Jill Stuart Beauty

A couple weeks ago, I went to the launch of Jill Stuart Beauty's (site in Japanese, but graphics intensive) latest collection for spring, Angel Rocker. The eyeshadows and blush are too glittery and perfumed for my taste, but I was entranced by the ornate and extremely princess-y packaging. Most of my everyday make-up is from MAC or Nars, and their plain, black, "we are professional makeup artists and we mean business!" packaging is completely different from the shiny crystal-clear compacts and ornate, jeweled nail polish bottles I saw at the Jill Stuart Beauty launch. The brand is very popular in east Asia, but (as far as I know) available only at certain Jill Stuart stores in the US.

I can see how pulling out a crystal-like compact when you are touching your make-up in the middle of the day might give you a small lift, even if you are just quickly swiping on some lip gloss at your cubicle or patting on some powder in a flourescent-lit office washroom.

This made me wonder how important packaging is to women when they make cosmetic purchases. It was to me when I was younger and make-up seemed like a magical thing. I wanted enameled compacts that closed with a satisfying click and lipstick in gilt tubes. When Coty still sold lipstick, I bought them even though the texture was too dry for me because they came in vintage-style packaging; even the lipstick had that mid-century bullet shape. I also bought Coty loose powder because the packaging had not changed since the 1930s). I know this sounds crazy, but sometimes I'd just wave the puff in front of my face and enjoy the scent, which just smelled so vintage-y. I felt like a character in a Rosamunde Pilcher novel!

1939 ad found on Cosmetics and SkinProduct photo found on [drumroll] Walgreen's online store

Coty still sells the same boxes with the powder puffs against a golden background (the harder to find blue packaging indicates formulation for sensitive skin). I remember passing by a store here in Taipei that had rows of Coty loose powder boxes and feeling a nostalgic thrill, even though I haven't used their products in 10 years (alas, I've forgotten where that store is!).

Credit: Ad Classix... the vintage ad is for sale

When I used Coty make-up as a vintage-obsessed teenager, I felt like I was playing a role. I'd swivel the lipstick out of the tube and pull it against my lips. The almost paste-like texture didn't bother me because I figured that was what women in the 1950s were accustomed to. I set my precious Coty powder box on my dresser next to my iridiscent Caboodles case and felt like I'd been transported into a more glamorous era.

I no longer pay attention to cosmetics packaging, however -- I just want make-up that doesn't irritate my skin, give me a headache with too much perfume or wear off quickly. But when I saw the Jill Stuart cosmetics and all the fans of the brand who were at the event, it made me wonder: what do those compacts and bejeweled brush handles symbolize to them? I got the feeling that most of the women were young professionals like me. Is part of the reason they chose make-up brands like Jill Stuart and Anna Sui over Mac, Smashbox and Nars because the packaging gives them a bit of escapism in the middle of a stressful day?

What do you think? Is fancy, ornate packaging a marketing trap or a way to inject some beauty (or at least prettiness) into your day? Would you be willing to spend extra for product in ornate containers? And (since I'm on this topic) what brands do you think have the most attractive packaging?

Video: The Taiwan Song (台灣小調), 1959

When I first stumbled upon this YouTube video of Grace Chang (葛蘭), a Hong Kong actress of the 1950s and 1960s, I nearly started crying tears of joy. A song about how beautiful Taiwan is, gorgeous 1950s fashions (including lots of menswear), all in fabulous color... what's not to love?

As I wrote a few days ago, finding images of Asians and Asian Americans doing normal, everyday things (hopefully while wearing wonderful vintage fashions) is a new passion of mine. It is the logical result of being a lifelong vintage lover (well, lifelong since age eleven!) who now lives in Taiwan, and it is also a way of reconciling the conflicting feelings I have about collecting things from an era when so many people who looked me were repressed, abused or worse. A couple of my vintage photos were featured on Fashion for Writers and Threadbared. Jenny on FFW wrote a really great post on the emotional impact of being exotified and I cannot wait to read what Threadbared has to say about the politics of vintage.

(And please vote once every 24 hours for Shu Flies (舒飛), my blog about life in Taipei, Taiwan. To everyone who has already voted -- thank you so much! Your support really warms my heart. The weather is chilly here in Taipei, so it needs all the warming it can get!)

Borrowed memories of a time long ago

I recently discovered a couple shops here in Taipei that sell vintage found photos. This topic really deserves a longer blog entry (and hopefully I'll have time to write one soon), but I find it very moving to see people who look like me doing normal things in time periods that I enjoy from a historical and aesthetic standpoint.

It's a rare thing. For example, I only recall Asian Americans being featured three times on as many seasons of "Mad Men": the "Oriental family" in Pete's office when he returned from his honeymoon, the waitress in a tight qipao and the (off-screen) Chinese driver that made Sally giggle. The series is one of my favorite TV shows, but it also reminds me that Asian Americans were marginalized (or worse) during the era it depicts. And, of course, depictions of Asians and Asian Americans in actual vintage US films are also problematic, to say the least.

I often find myself feeling very conflicted about my interest in vintage style. How can I enjoy things from an era when Asian Americans were repressed, socially and legally (as with the Japanese internment camps and the Chinese Exclusion Act), and when many Asian countries suffered sociopolitical violence that traumatized millions of people, including members of my family? But secondhand and vintage items have had an emotional resonance for me since I was very young and, though it's hard to explain, I can't imagine my life without them. This is more than a hobby for me -- it's part of my identity.

Perhaps it is a bit trivial, but when I see photos like these or watch a movie like "Stardust," it feels like a relief, or validation of a sort. I don't have access to a lot of my own family's old photos for various reasons, so these pictures are almost like an emotional surrogate for me. Here is something I can enjoy wholeheartedly and relate to on a more intimate level. I have a lot more of these photos and I am looking forward to sharing them here.

Inspiration: "Mona Lisa Smile"

Before I start, I have to say that I really dislike "Mona Lisa Smile." When I first saw it five years ago, I had just graduated from college and looked forward to watching a movie about a school that reminded me of my alma mater (Sarah Lawrence) and had female characters my age. Instead, I got a load of boring, cheesy misogynistic claptrap.

Most of my feelings echo this letter the president of Wellesley College wrote after the film's premiere. The character development also makes me want to smack my head against a post. Gisele Levy is supposed to be the one character in the film who is comfortable with her sexuality... but it turns out she sleeps around because she has daddy issues stemming from being the only kid on the block with divorced parents. Betty, the antagonist for most of the film, supposedly develops a fuller sense of self in the end and strikes out on her own with an apartment in Greenwich Village... but only because she finds out her new husband was cheating on her. Connie, the awkward girl who is insecure about her looks and always (literally) running away, blossoms... but only because she starts dating Betty's cousin.

While we are supposed to believe that the character played by Julia Roberts helps these young women see themselves as something other as future housewives, all of them still end up defining themselves through their relationships with men. "The Feminine Mystique" this ain't!

The film does have one thing going for it, though... the costumes! Lots and lots of gorgeous mid-fifties clothes! Wheeee!

I like to think that the wardrobe department had a giant barrel filled with pearl necklaces.

I see these velvet-wrapped wire fascinators on eBay and Etsy all the time, and it's nice to see one in action.

It's a good film as long as you keep the volume on mute.