When the river is allowed to flow long enough, even suits with shoulder pads can be washed in the water. When wearing jeans is something one can do beyond the times of causal Friday, our wardrobe of diligent day-to-day pieces gets a little lost. Can you wear sweats? A shirt your children designed with their expressionist creativity? Yael Rosenfeld Yaniv dusts the leftover playdough off her jacket and decides to find out.
“Let the river run / Let all the dreamers / wake the nation,” Carly Simon sings in the opening of the movie Working Girl (1988), while the streets of New York were flooded with the masses of faceless people in business wear, and out of the crowd appears Melanie Griffith with blazing red hair and blue eye shadow.
At the beginning of the film, Tess McGill (Griffith) is a junior secretary full of ambition who enriches herself in market analysis courses, as well as reading yellow gossip columns. Additionally, she wears a huge (fake?) leather coat, huge jewelry, and boasts an up-do that would have been appropriate for Cindy Lauper, the 1980s edition. When she goes to work for the boss-lady, Catherine Parker (Sigourney Weaver), along with the female empowerment speech, she gets her first lesson in “get[ting] dressed for success” – “We’re a team, Tess, and as a team we have uniforms: impecible simplicity and elegance.” “Wear it carelessly, and they will notice the dress, dress properly and notice the woman.” -Coco Chanel.
A crisis of trust in human kind leads Tess McGill straight into the arms of a black cocktail dress from her boss’s wardrobe, a new haircut, and a fate-changing party in which gets Harrison Ford for the road.
The wardrobe shift also permeates the morning hours, and Tess appears in the office in solid gray suits, starched white collar shirts, and matching minimalist makeup. In addition, the shoulder pads are formidable as a prerequisite for climbing the social ladder. Because that’s how it was in the 1980s. If you want to be part of the work environment, you need to have a “power suit”. And a power suit is one that gives you the structure of a built superman. Including a wing span that can definitely help you fly.
Tess did not accept the memo explaining that anyone who really wants to change her fate needs a blue dress.
Goethe said, “We like to reflect in blue, not because it moves in our direction, but because it attracts us to it.”
There are at least 50 shades of blue, and Hollywood loves them all.
When Disney Studios wanted to emphasize Belle’s presence in Beauty and The Beast, they dressed her in a blue dress. The only one in the whole town that wore blue. Alice and her blue dress set out on an adventure in Wonderland, Dorothy walked in a blue checkered shirt on the yellow brick road, and even Wendy flew out of the window behind Peter Pan in a pale blue nightgown.
Being a “masculine gender” color from the second half of the 20th century, Disney gave the heroines of the movies that wore blue a “Buy one, get one free” deal, for with a blue dress came a more stable, daring, and unique personality structure.
“Ah, who has time to deal with this nonsense!” They would scorn the “blue-collar” men. “We’re in a practical section here!” At the end of the 19th century, if you worked manual labor most of the day, you had less of the possibility of using a washing machine (which was, in the beginning, not a little job in itself). It was best that your clothing choice was based on values such as being useful and durable. And that was exactly the point with the choice of blue uniforms-somehow, the dirt and the surrounding mess simply assimilated with it.
Oscar Wilde supported the blue wardrobe when he said, “In all my travels across the states, the only ones I’ve seen who dressed properly were the Western miners.”
Not surprisingly, over the years, blue and practical work clothes have spread beyond the boundaries of mines and factories, filling up with an anti-capitalist agenda, becoming part of the bohemian wardrobe.
The human craving for nostalgic values of tranquility and minimalism over the last decade have led to the restoration of the useful work clothes to the foreground.
And we will return for a moment to “Working Girl”. At the end of the first decade of the current millennium, fashion reporter Christina Binkley of Wall Street wrote an emotional eulogy for the masculine-feminine suit, in which she said “the matching red suit – once defined as necessary for a woman executive – reflected a period when women tried to echo masculine patterns, [however unsuccessfully].”
Did you hear that, Catherine Parker?
Picasso once said, “When I ran out of blue, I used red.”
Reverse it, Picasso!
Just put on a blue dress and let life summon to you an adventure that only life itself will have in stock.