Suitable Suits

Charm Magazine, March, 1954

While suits have always been a staple of any woman's wardrobe, after The War, there was a shift in where one might wear such an ensemble. After The War, as we hurtled towards the mid-century mark, more and more women were entering the workforce. Young women flocked to metropolitan areas to either carve out a carer, or to work for a few years doing something civilized, like working in the arts, or in publishing before marrying. Women were becoming attorneys, starting their own companies, obtaining Important Positions in Corporate America. In all cases, whether executive or secretary, it was of the utmost important to look smart, never a hair out of place, sleekly elegant at all times. While in the past, suits were worn for luncheon, to go shopping, or to take in a matinee, now they perhaps had to possess a bit more authority, yet, of course, remain ladylike and elegant in the extreme.

Herewith, some knit suits from some of our favorite pattern magazines, which, while lovely for Ladies Who Lunch, also say, "I Have Arrived!" for The Office:

Vogue, 1957

Vogue, 1950

Vogue, 1950

Vogue, 1957

(I don't care for the placement of the pockets at all -- it's odd, and choppy. I would lower them, or better yet, eliminate them entirely for a smoother line)

Pauline Denham, early-mid 1960s

Pauline Denham, mid-1960s

Spinnerin Yarn, advertisement, 1957

Vogue, 1964

Vogue, 1963

(What is the young lady holding? A pot-holder? A hand-puppet?)

Nomatta, 1955

Pauline Denham, 1963

Pauline Denham, 1964

Pauline Denham, 1964

Pauline Denham, 1957

Fleisher's and Bear Brand advertisement, 1955

Minerva, 1948

But something has happened over the past years -- perhaps it was in reaction to the hideous, gaudy "Power Suits" of the Regan Era, but it suddenly seems that the only acceptable attire for the office (that is, if one doesn't work in one of those unfortunate places which allow dungarees, band tee-shirts, and Birkenstock to be worn), is The Black Pantsuit. All Over America -- nay, All Over The World, women are streaming into and out of office buildings, all dressed identically, no matter what they paid for The Black Pantsuit, or its' quality (or lackthereof). Worse, it seems in recent years, it's become de regeur to wear clothing which doesn't fit -- clothing which says, "Somehow I shrunk en route to the office, although the trousers are still six inches too long, even if my owner is wearing three-inch heels." Witness:

Banana Republic: $306.00

J. Crew: $440.00

Armani: $1,620.00

Isacc Mizrahi for Target: $69.98

Ann Taylor: $326.00

You: Priceless

(Minerva, 1951)

Have we really lost all sense of personal style and character? How can one expect to stand out in the workplace, no matter one's abilities, if one looks exactly like everyone else, bustling about in The Black Pantsuit like so many little ants? The above examples, whether from Target or Armani, all say, "I Am Dull As Dish Water. (And I don't know A Good Tailor.)" Does the above suit designed for Minerva in 1951 say, "I Know Exactly What I Am Doing. I Am Exceptionally Competent. I Am In Charge. I Am Stylish. I Know What I Want. I Am A Lady, But I Am Not To Be Trifled With." I think so. The Black Pantsuits illustrated above? Frankly, not at all.