Glamour portrays a world without trade offs or compromises. Sometimes it demands opulence and at other times aesthetic excess, but it always requires selection and control. Glamour is not just beauty or luxury. It is not a style but an effect. A quality that depends on the play of a well-tuned imagination.
Movies of the late 1930s and 1940s demonstrate glamour. It wasn't the reality of the time. Glamour radiated through enormous velvety images seen on the screen that made people want to incorporate this magical spell into their everyday lives. The movies did not invent glamour, but they solidified the meaning of the word. They inspired illusions. They showed movie stars with poise and a grace. Glamorous movie stars didn't get PMS. They didn't have a bad hair day or blotchy skin. Their waist band was never too tight after a crazed impulse to eat half a bag of salty potato chips and a bar of chocolate. Because they were always in control. They glowed radiantly like the Amazon jungle glistening after an afternoon rain. They possessed a vital naturalness that was real and not cosmetically enhanced. They floated when they walked across a room. They were brilliant, quick, witty and brought to whatever sordid situation they might have found themselves in a cool tone. They were born that way, they lived that way, and they died that way. And their interiors framed them revealing an interesting variety of persona and dimension.
Then something began to change. Glamour took on a new dimension. It started to become complex and associated with a presumed lifestyle of the independent, liberated woman. And the liberated woman became associated as a kind of femme fatale. She wrapped herself in expensive clothing, wore expensive jewelry men gave her and she played them like a game of chess.
There is class taste and there is mass taste. But today the lines seemed to have blurred. Most of us think we know glamour. We’ve been conditioned by movies, television, magazines and advertising. We associate glamour with people, places and things. Things that are expensive, perfect, and largely unattainable on a modest budget. We idealize it. Certain consumer goods will show it. It used to be associated with wealth and taste. Now it seems anyone who can buy enough bling can have glamour. It is about drama. Big, bold drama. Surface and allusions. Glamour is a term that has been watered down. Used by anyone other than the cognoscenti. It has become simply a label that can be bought and sold. We see the word 'Glamour' splashed on pages of any fashion or dwelling magazine, product or person. What it means today is elusive.
Glamour’s true quality is mystery and grace – something that cannot be bought with cash.
Movies of the late 1930s and 1940s demonstrate glamour. It wasn't the reality of the time. Glamour radiated through enormous velvety images seen on the screen that made people want to incorporate this magical spell into their everyday lives. The movies did not invent glamour, but they solidified the meaning of the word. They inspired illusions. They showed movie stars with poise and a grace. Glamorous movie stars didn't get PMS. They didn't have a bad hair day or blotchy skin. Their waist band was never too tight after a crazed impulse to eat half a bag of salty potato chips and a bar of chocolate. Because they were always in control. They glowed radiantly like the Amazon jungle glistening after an afternoon rain. They possessed a vital naturalness that was real and not cosmetically enhanced. They floated when they walked across a room. They were brilliant, quick, witty and brought to whatever sordid situation they might have found themselves in a cool tone. They were born that way, they lived that way, and they died that way. And their interiors framed them revealing an interesting variety of persona and dimension.
Then something began to change. Glamour took on a new dimension. It started to become complex and associated with a presumed lifestyle of the independent, liberated woman. And the liberated woman became associated as a kind of femme fatale. She wrapped herself in expensive clothing, wore expensive jewelry men gave her and she played them like a game of chess.
There is class taste and there is mass taste. But today the lines seemed to have blurred. Most of us think we know glamour. We’ve been conditioned by movies, television, magazines and advertising. We associate glamour with people, places and things. Things that are expensive, perfect, and largely unattainable on a modest budget. We idealize it. Certain consumer goods will show it. It used to be associated with wealth and taste. Now it seems anyone who can buy enough bling can have glamour. It is about drama. Big, bold drama. Surface and allusions. Glamour is a term that has been watered down. Used by anyone other than the cognoscenti. It has become simply a label that can be bought and sold. We see the word 'Glamour' splashed on pages of any fashion or dwelling magazine, product or person. What it means today is elusive.
Glamour’s true quality is mystery and grace – something that cannot be bought with cash.