RIP Bill Cunningham

He's Just Our Bill

Bill Cunningham, the legendary photographer with a 40-year career at The New York Times, died last week. He was 87 years old.

He was beloved in the style world for his On the Street spread in each Sunday's Times, as well as the Evening Hours coverage of society and charity galas.

On Sunday, October 27, 2002, The Times published a special section called "On the Street." The lead article, "The Age of Street Fashion," was written by Guy Trebay, my favorite style writer who can turn an original phrase like no other. "Has there ever been a designer's catwalk that produced better fashion than a city sidewalk?" he wrote.

I saved that section for 14 years and pulled it out of my "Fashion Articles" box because I remembered that there was a treasure trove of material in it on Bill Cunningham. "Bill on Bill" was in his own words. Here are some of the words and pictures from that section.

Bill Cunningham apparently was a sweet, funny guy. He rode around New York City, even in his dotage, (although he really did not have a dotage) on a bike, snapping pictures of the "stunners" that he passed. Or he would station himself at the corner of 5th Avenue and 57th Street to capture the ladies and gents "going to business," as he put it. He could be spotted in his blue workman's jacket which he purchased in the hardware section in the basement of the Bazar de l'Hôtel de Ville department store in Paris.

Bill Cunningham on the Sheep Meadow in Central Park,

Easter Sunday, 1967 with his first camera.

Bill wrote:

"I started photographing people on the street during World War II. I used a little box Brownie. Nothing too expensive. The problem is I'm not a good photographer. To be perfectly honest, I'm too shy. Not aggressive enough. Well, I'm not aggressive at all. I just loved to see wonderfully dressed women, and I still do. That's all there is to it."

In the 1950s, Bill designed hats under the label William J. because his family would have been embarrassed if he had used his real name. His shop was at 44 West 54th Street in a brownstone.

 Two of Bill's hats.

 An overflow crowd in Bill's Salon for a 

1956 showing of his hats.

Joe Eula, Illustrator, said:

"In the 1950s, I lived across the street from him when he was William J. I remember he had this hat in the window with fringe hanging from the brim to the ground. It was a bathing suit hat, and you were supposed to change your clothes behind the fringe. I called up Sally Kirkland, who was the fashion editor at Life, and I said, "You've got to see this!" She put it in Life. Bill was an absolute innovator right from the get-go. His hats were the grand opera of all time."

Bill's first collection of street photography in The Times on December 30 1978.

Greta Garbo is top, second from right.

Bill said:

"Then I got to know Arthur Gelb (former Managing Editor of The Times), and one day I told him about this woman I had been photographing on the street. She wore a nutria coat, and I thought: "Look at the cut of that shoulder. It's so beautiful." And it was a plain coat, too. You'd look at it and think: "Oh, are you crazy? It's nothing."  Anyway, I was taking her picture, and I saw people turn around, looking at her. She crossed the street, and I thought. Is that? Sure enough, it was Greta Garbo. All I had noticed was the coat, and the shoulder." 

 Bill in his hat salon in 1957.

He was quite a handsome fellow.

My favorite anecdote about Bill, is that

when he covered the fashion shows in Paris,

he always stayed at a modest hotel and made the

room reservation by sending them a note on a postcard.

John Fairchild said, 

"You know, he's like a pixie on a bicycle. You're at some dreary event. Suddenly, there's a flash, a wonderful word, and just lifts you up."

In 2012, Bill photographed my friends, 

The Idiosyncratic Fashionistas, in

my felt helmets, which he

really liked, according to Jean and Valerie.

Bill, we will miss you. Sundays will never be the

same without opening the Style Section to

your "On the Street."

Au revoir, Bill.

Amy Downs Pops Up in the Big Apple

Hats-a-Poppin'
Amy Downs Has a Pop-Up Shop
Memorial Day weekend turned out to be memorable for me because I went to an Amy Downs Trunk Show with a bunch of my pals.

Who is Amy Downs? Let's go back to 1985 when Richard and I moved to NYC and rented a loft in a former dance hall on Rivington Street. The loft had two big rooms and two bathrooms, no kitchen and no shower. We installed a shower in one of the bathrooms, purchased a small refrigerator and hauled out our double burner for cooking. In summer, we built our famous air-conditioned room for sleeping. The room was constructed from 4 by 8 foot panels covered in clear vinyl with edges sealed in green duct tape. I believe that MoMA has a replica in their design department.

For fun, Richard and I would wander the wild and woolly Lower East Side, stepping aside to let the random drug dealer or drug taker lurch by. It was the time of Mayor Koch's reign and Operation Pressure Point was trying to push the drug trade out to the boroughs. It was on one of these walks that we came upon the wonderland of Amy Downs, The Hat and Mary Adams, The Dress, two intrepid designers who shared a storefront at the corner of Ludlow and Stanton.

Me in an Amy Downs hat. 

Four hat people have just come from Amy's Trunk Show

on East Broadway.

L-R, Dayle, Debra Rapoport, Teresa Taylor and Carol Markel.

All but Debra, who wears a hat of her own design, are

wearing Amy Downs' toppers.

We were giddy as we began the trying on.

There was picture-taking.

 Much style advice was proffered.

 Choices were made.

 Theresa's choice: a becoming red straw.

Dayle in a lemon-lime tulle which

complements her yellow glasses.

Amy makes darling mannequins.

Debra is a consummate milliner.

She models this big-bow hat

of her own design.

Leaving the scene of the crime

(assault and battery on our wallets)

we head to Seward Park

for a lawn party!

 Joining us at our Seward Park Co-op,

were Diana Gabriel and Valerie of  The

Idiosyncratic Fashionistas.

Diana holds a bag of donuts

from The Donut Plant.

Truly forbidden fruit.

 Valerie uncorks some bubbly.

 Richard and I are fortunate to have a wonderful

lawn area on our co-op's property.

Red chairs are set out every day.

Diana models Teresa's Amy Downs hat.

A sun-dappled tableau.

 Families and children share our outdoor space.

Some years ago, Amy moved to

Centralia, Washington.

You can look at her studio in

a charming video or order a hat,

here.

A Big Hat Thank You

to Denton Taylor

for these photos.

À Bientôt!

Mother's Day

The Spring Party Scene
Part Two
As we said last post, April has seen a whirlwind of festivities -- a stylish maelstrom if you will. There was Anna's big bash at the Met last Monday where Madonna bared her booty. But we who cannot pony up the $30,000 for a ticket to the Met Gala, and who want to keep our booties under wraps, manage to have fun as we mine the depths of our closets for yet another stunning outfit.

On a Sunday afternoon, a group of friends gathered at our apartment for a tea to honor a visitor from Vancouver, Canada. Cathie Borrie is the author of The Long Hello -- Memory, My Mother, and Me. She was in New York for the launch of the USA edition of The Long Hello.

Cathie's book is an apt subject for a Mother's Day post. It tells the story of her years of caring for her mother, who suffered from Alzheimer's disease. Since my mother, Mary, also had the disease, I have a keen interest in what Cathie had to say.

The Long Hello is prose poetry. In short interludes, Cathie reveals her intimate relationship with her ill mother. But not only do we hear the absurd, the heart-breaking and the lovely words spoken by Cathie and her mother, but we also learn about Cathie's life in a condensed narrative and crisp words. In spite of, her perhaps because of such well-edited brevity, by the end of the book we can say that we know Cathie and the details of her life.

Since Maya Angelou had exclaimed the book to be "Joy!" and the excerpts I had heard were sheer poetry, I thought that Cathie's care giving had been all sweet. And it was, except that it wasn't. As a caregiver, along with my siblings, of Mary during her illness, I can attest to the agony and stress one goes through. And Cathie did not escape it.

Author Cathie Borrie with her book,

The Long Hello.

(She is wearing her dad's bowler.)

My mother, Mary Markel, with me and

my sister, Susan. 

She dressed us in hair bows and cotton frocks.

Two-thirds of the people who get Alzheimer's are women.

In my opinion, that's why more money is

not being spent on finding a cure.

Tea party goers standing from left to right: Diana Gabriel, Carol Markel,

 Joyce Carpati, Valerie and Jean, The Idiosyncratic Fashionistas,

Maureen Gumbe, Debra Rapoport, Elke Kuhn.

Seated: Cathie Borrie and Nonnie Balcer.

We are rapt hearing Cathie read from her book.

There is no tea at our tea parties but there is bubbly.

Nonnie, Joyce, Carola, Teresa and Jean chat it up.

There was Brooklyn Blackout Cake,
and I made tea sandwiches from Sandra Lee recipes.
Debra brought fruit.

 Jewelry designer, Diana Gabriel.

There was shopping in my Hat Shop in a Box.
Cathie purchased these red and black beads.

 Elke and Jean model two of my hats.

 Lovely Elke in Marimekko and beads by Carol.

 Jean and Valerie, 
The Idiosyncratic Fashionistas.

 Jean in my hand-painted straw cloche.

 Maureen and Debra.

 Carol in a Zara blouse.

 Teresa Taylor in my hat and beads.

 Valerie, Joyce (in mad tights) and Carola in a Zara dress!

Mary Markel
Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there.
Please pick up a copy of Cathie's book.
I am sure you will love it.
Read about it here.

Thanks to Denton Taylor for these photographs.

Mother's Day Tulips from my stepchildren.
Thank you Dianna, Richard and Michael.

À Bientôt!

Party Circuit

April Party Circuit
Part One
Who made April party month? O my goodness. A convergence of events and people visiting New York City created an overwhelming need to celebrate.

The festivities began last Saturday at the Washington Heights apartment of artist, writer and walking-art woman, Sue Kreitzman. I will use the adjective fabulous only once, and that will be to describe Sue, who dresses in glorious hand-painted gowns and eye-riveting pieces of body adornment.

Sue on left with Valerie of  The

Idiosyncratic Fashionistas.

Every inch of Sue's apartment is

covered with color and art.

Sue lives part of the year in London

where she met artist Diane Goldie who custom paints

and creates many of Sue's robes.

Diane was visiting New York and was the

guest of honor at Sue's party.

To describe Diane, I will use the adjective spectacular.

Diane's painting of Frida Kahlo as Medusa

on the back of her dress.

Photo by Denton Taylor

 Carol hamming it up in vintage bell bottoms.

Photo by Denton Taylor.

 Souleiado beret purchased in Avignon, France

 and silk-scarf blouse by Madame Matovu.

Yellow and blue beads of my own design.

Photo by Denton Taylor.

 Sue's parties are art parties.

We have show and tell.

Sue holds a work embroidered by

Concepcion, on the left.

Photo by Denton Taylor.

 In the milieu of Sue's art-filled apartment are

Jean (left) of The Idiosyncratic Fashionistas

and Ruthie Darling.

Photo by Denton Taylor.

 Outside Sue's home in Castle Village are

Nita Angeletti, Teresa Taylor, Dayle of Artfulcitystyle and 

jewelry designer, Diana Gabriel.

Photo by Denton Taylor

 Richard and I show our work.

Photo by Denton Taylor

 Sue and artists Anothai Hansen and Shelita Birchett Benash

Anothai makes many of Sue's necklaces.

Photo by Denton Taylor

 Show and tell in a sunny corner.

Teresa Taylor and outsider artist, Malcah Zeldis.

Artist Nita Angeletti with one of her

puppet creations. She is wearing

a necklace and hair ornament of her own design.

A study in pattern and color.

Sue's Russian constructivist plate

and my Issey Miyake sock.

À Bientôt!