Describing her shortcomings in the fashion stakes, she admits that when she first moved to New York she had no clue when it came to style and would "buy anything a persuasive salesgirl thrust upon me." In fact, she was thrown out of the Algonquin Hotel in 1924, creating a scandal due to looking fourteen in a childish short pink dress whilst heading out to party at 2 o'clock in the morning. She ruefully reflects that "I felt disgusted with myself as I packed my trunk. This humiliating eviction could not have taken place if I'd been wearing a fashionable slinky dress and a hat." Thankfully, she resolves to learn how to dress and goes to a store, confessing her ignorance and asking for help.
Concluding with a lovely description of her new wardrobe, evening gowns slashed to the navel with a bare back so "sitting at a restaurant or nightclub table, I was a nearly naked sight to behold", afternoon dresses in pastel shades of satin and silk crepes, and severely tailored suits. Finally, "my beloved New York was able to present a Louise Brooks who was neither Kansas nor Broadway nor Hollywood nor Park Avenue but uniquely herself."
Reading this realistic description, Louise Brooks suffering through the age old process of finding her own style and confidence, and her other essays on her time in film, I realised she was more than just an iconic hair cut. She was defiantly her own person, quitting Hollywood when she felt like it rather than clinging onto fame as her star faded into dusty obscurity.
Still known decades later for smouldering performances in films like Pandora's Box, Louise Brooks will always be an icon to me.
Concluding with a lovely description of her new wardrobe, evening gowns slashed to the navel with a bare back so "sitting at a restaurant or nightclub table, I was a nearly naked sight to behold", afternoon dresses in pastel shades of satin and silk crepes, and severely tailored suits. Finally, "my beloved New York was able to present a Louise Brooks who was neither Kansas nor Broadway nor Hollywood nor Park Avenue but uniquely herself."
Reading this realistic description, Louise Brooks suffering through the age old process of finding her own style and confidence, and her other essays on her time in film, I realised she was more than just an iconic hair cut. She was defiantly her own person, quitting Hollywood when she felt like it rather than clinging onto fame as her star faded into dusty obscurity.
Still known decades later for smouldering performances in films like Pandora's Box, Louise Brooks will always be an icon to me.
