“Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don’t save it for a special occasion. Today is special.” I’m sure we ladies have all seen that quote at least 100 times. And lucky for me that there were so many women in the 50’s who evidently hadn’t been given this advice. In fact, I’m guessing the quote was originated by a daughter or granddaughter of that generation–born of observing those ladies tuck all the nicest stuff away, but I digress…
And speaking of which, why don’t women wear “fancy” lingerie at all anymore? Oh, there are a few of us, towing the line, but for the most part, when women do wear dresses, they either don’t notice or don’t care that their outfits are see-through. This brings out my inner-Victorian, and conjures the word “appalling.” With as windy as it gets in this city, having another layer between your goods and the viewing public cannot be a bad thing. Unless that’s what you’re selling…
Here are a few examples of foundational undergarments and slips of yesteryear. These four with sketches of slips and companion photos of ‘lock and load it’ gear are from February 1953. Most of the ones you’ll find in major department stores or Vicki’s these days are cheaply constructed, but you’d be surprised how many pristine vintage ones you can find on the internet or in vintage clothing stores.
It’s never too late to learn decorum, and that never goes out of style.
If you don’t wear dresses, you still might enjoy getting a couple of vintage slips for yourself. I wear them as nightgowns. The materials used are so superior to anything you’ll encounter in the current ready-to-wear market.
Plus, there are often sweet little details like accordion pleats at the hem or at the bust. I never feel more powerfully pulchritudinous than in one of these undergarments.
Go to Minx or Harloh’s or get something online, but please try one of these if you haven’t yet, and report back. They do come in a multitude of colors, but I think the RIT formula must have changed, because I’ve tried dyeing some, and they end up looking a mess.
And on a final note, who knew that RIT products used to be here in Indianapolis? Miss Rit, what to do? My slips don’t dye like yours do…