Hats off to a Movie Marriage of British Form, Scottish Function
W e shifted our fashion sensibilities out of Yankee gear and into British overdrive and went to see the film “Four Weddings and a Funeral.†What we saw confirmed that, in spite of our common language, laws and apparent embrace of the Big Mac as a fully qualified food, there is a definite, if sometimes subtle difference, in the way we dress, both day-to-day and on such clothing-intensive occasions as weddings.
HE: Poll a few hundred American women under the age of 30 and ask them if they know what a milliner does and I’ll bet you get a majority who think he makes granola. Poll the same amount of English women of the same age and they’ll not only know what a milliner does, they’ll also know the names of a dozen of them that they patronize on a regular basis.
Good Lord, the hats! They were everywhere! No wonder English women are fair-skinned. They live in perpetual shadow. Or so it seemed in the movie. Some of the chapeaux were flattering, but that enormous black one Andie MacDowell has on in the opening scene was enough to make Mr. Blackwell salivate. It looked like a combination LP record and 747 tire. I’m surprised she didn’t get a compressed vertebra.
SHE: But she (Andie MacDowell as Carrie) was a standout, right? With a topper like that, you and Kaleidoscope Eyes (Hugh Grant as Charlie) can’t forget her.
Smart women know that the way to be noticed in a crowd--especially when you’re competing with a fetching bride--is to wear something unforgettable.
The huge coal hat was the focal point of a classic silhouette that paired a flowing black and white, ankle-length skirt with a dramatic, double-breasted white jacket. Her only other accessory was a pair of antique drop earrings. Oh, and her Pepsodent Smile of course.
HE: Well, OK, next time I go to a wedding I’ll wear jockey silks and a diving helmet. Gotta get the women’s eyes off that handsome groom, y’know. And just to make sure I’m thoroughly unforgettable, how about I wear a kilt?
Actually . . . that wedding at the castle in the Scottish Highlands with everybody in traditional Scottish regalia looked like loads of fun. Even for the women, it was an occasion to trot out the big plaid scarves and thistle pins. For the guys, though, crawling into all that stuff at the beginning of an evening like that almost requires a valet. Scottish dress has to be just so, and it seems as if there are a million little pins and clasps and buckles and chains and belts, all of which have some specific significance and therefore can’t be ignored.
But you have to wonder: Do all those guys keep that stuff in their closets for years just on the outside chance that they’ll get invited to a highland wedding?
SHE: It was a movie , ducky. But back to Carrie for a minute. Her best look came when she attended the second wedding. Her figure-skimming oyster white suit, which was sashed at the waist and paired with a long, pencil-slim skirt, took the cake.
Tres Americain! It was perfectly off-white--one shouldn’t wear snowy bridal-white to weddings--and wildly sophisticated. I saw a similar suit at Saks Fifth Avenue at South Coast Plaza recently. It was a summer white by Emanuel (Ungaro). I would have bought it--and had my hair permed just to look like Carrie--but the jacket wasn’t tapered at the waist so it made me look thick. Carrie wore it with matching oyster stiletto pumps.
HE: The guys, for the most part, stuck closely to British wedding tradition and wore gray morning coats or understated dark suits. The happy exception, though, were the occasional magnificent waistcoat (we call ‘em vests).
That big, bearded Falstaffian guy took the prize with a succession of satin brocade numbers that screamed across the room like a laser light show. Sure, they were gaudy as hell, but that’s a guy you’re going to remember. And, even though the colors were as vivid as colors can get when represented on cloth, I didn’t think any of the waistcoats were in bad taste. Even Grant got into the act with a gold patterned one toward the end of the film.
So, if any buyers are listening, stock a few of those nifty vests this fall. I promise to buy several.
SHE: Did you notice--of course you did--that Andie MacDowell was showcasing the New Woman figure that Mirabella magazine talks about this month? Her hips are full. There’s meat on her arms. And her face bares not one jutting cheekbone! I thought she looked great--though I didn’t care for her wedding gown a whit. Her beaded headband, yes--a perfect frame for those obsidian curls. But her too-simple gown looked too big. And her beaded bolero looked too small.
HE: “New Woman†figure? That’s gonna be good news for the people who make Dove Bars and double-filling Oreos. About time, sez I. I’ve never heard a guy say “Whoa! Check out the set of cheekbones on that number!â€
SHE: Guess it didn’t matter what she was wearing in the final scene. There she and Charlie were, sharing an outpouring during a downpour. Her dove-gray suit and matching overcoat get soaked and she’s so in love it doesn’t matter. So it shrinks from a Size 10 to a Size 2. Who needs a perfect fit when you’ve got Kaleidoscope Eyes?
