Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

Although it is April Fool's Day, these are real clothes from a real catalogue, the Midnight Velvet catalogue. Somebody somewhere is wearing these. Sounds like a low budget horror movie, doesn't it?

I call this first one Li'l Orphan Annie's Bad Trip. Few people know that the red-haired comic denizen spent a brief time on a commune in the Sixties. There, she met Krazy Kat, he gave her some electric Ovaltine, and she was never the same.

Then there's Granny's Armchair, a sunny butter yellow dress fashioned of durable upholstery. Everyone knows that the best-dressed ladies match their sitting rooms!

Next is Disco Schoolmarm. This is the dress that all self-respecting disco divas wear after they get a job in the Christian Science Reading Room.

Then there's the Purse Dress. Generally speaking, it's a better idea to find a purse to match your dress than to make your dress look like a purse. I'm pretty sure this dress has extra pockets to store your wallet and your sunglasses.

The Sound of Music Playdress was inspired by the famous scene where Maria, the irrepressible nanny, played by Julie Andrews, makes play clothes for the children out of curtains. If you don't believe me, look at the curtains from the next page.

For the woman who forgot to observe Lent, she can atone for her sins by wearing the Easter Penance dress. Surely, anyone who would make such a sacrifice must be truly contrite. God forgives you, my child. Your fellow parishioners, however, probably never will.

As you know, purple and gold indicate royalty, which is why I call this dress the Royal Pain. Most women who wear this dress have at one time or another requested to be called "queen," "princess" or "Her Highness, the Supreme Ruler of the Universe." This dress must be charged for 12 hours before wearing.

Few people know that in the 1970s, Dolly Parton purchased all her clothing from Midnight Velvet. In fact, they still have a few of her special designs in stock, hence the Hello Dolly pantsuit.

This is the dress young ladies wear in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, when they are rebelling from their parents, a little number called the Amish Tramp. I mean, you can see her knees through that strip of lace! Shameless!

Yet more evidence that the person who designed these clothes also designs household goods. I have never before seen a shirt with a dust ruffle. I call this one the Bolero Coverlet.

The Scribble Suit actually got to production by mistake. As you might have guessed, the designer wasn't happy with her design, scribbled on it and threw it in the trash. Her boss retrieved it and had it rushed to the seamstresses, proclaiming it "innovative," "dramatic" and "cheap to make!"

More from Midnight Velvet:

March 24, 2005 - Selections from Midnight Velvet

Copyright 2005 by Alyce Wilson

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