Extract from “Twentieth Century Fashion”, written by Linda Watson. London: Carlton Books Limited, 2003.

1 Fashion and Culture in the 1950s I was 12 yrs old when the 1950s began. Fashion was fun and culture was high. One followed fashion then and culture was safely contained in the art gallery, the library, the concert hall, and if one was fortunate, there were musical instruments and a new radiogram for classical music at home. Oh, I had attended Maori concerts during the school holidays, but I’m not sure that they were graced with the description of Maori Culture. Visiting the Maori exhibitions at the Museum was another school holiday or weekend activity, but I did not perceive that carvings and feather cloaks were ‘cultural’ in any way at that time, although they provoked a special experience for me. I suppose that my awareness of ‘culture’ was heightened during the 1950s when my mother worked at home on alterations for the newly opened Flair fashion salon in Remuera, for when Flair garments came into the house, glamour and sensuality floated from the clothes hangers that hung from the top of every door. There was obviously another world, one in which people dressed for dinner, went to cocktail parties, balls and Government House Garden Parties. This was certainly a ‘high’ culture in terms of social strata, one in which fashion was an integral part. Up until then the fun part of fashion came from the fact that my mother had always worked in fashion, usually as a ‘finisher’ in sample workrooms or small dressmaking establishments. Mother and a close friend had always tried to ‘keep up’ with fashion, often cutting their own patterns for the new boleros, sun tops and the latest style of shorts. In my first year at high school Mother had bought a bright yellow beret and scarf, ready to transform my navy school raincoat into a smart outfit deemed suitably stylish to wear out during the winter holidays. One dressed to go out and in time I grew up and into the world of high heels and makeup. I was introduced to the cosmetic department of Milne and Choice, where my father bought me my first lipsticks, coral and pink. The discomfit of shoes with heels was mitigated to some extent by the fashionable Louis heels, not very high but with a tiny base. I learned that two piece outfits, a blouse and skirt, were not what one wore for best and that good clothes were well structured, made on interlining, with never a sign of the where the hem was sewn. My favourite outfit was a coatdress, a between season garment that could be worn on its own or over a dress. It had a stand up collar, was fitted, with a full skirt and a self made belt – very dashing and comfortable too. 2 By the time that I was 14 or 15 years old I had hats made to match my outfits and knew to wear earrings and gloves when leaving the house, but what was happening to culture at this time? I commandeered the radio at 11.30 every Saturday morning to listen to the hit parade, square dancing became popular, and then Rock n Roll arrived. My young brother wore an Elvis Presley hairstyle and fluorescent socks. Yes, we were still following fashion but it was not just for the rich and well educated, it was for teenagers everywhere, a contrast to the accepted city style of dressing for women in the ubiquitous little grey suit, with pencil slim skirt that hobbled our gait as we tripped into Queen Street during the lunch hour and climbed uncomfortably on and off the bus. When I look at family photographs from the 1950s I am reminded that we dressed up to fly to Sydney and to visit the zoo, that fitted bodices and full skirts were flattering and comfortable, that good clothes almost stood up by themselves, that much of culture was perceived to come from overseas, be it opera, ballet or drama, but that we were hungry for it, queuing for seats in the ‘gods’ at Her Majesty’s Theatre. We were proud of the new National Orchestra and the New Zealand Players but restriction played a large part in our attempts at looking out and about, restriction in what was available to buy and in our attitudes to what was acceptable. I was not aware of the first Maori Contemporary Art Exhibition, although I worked nearby, in Symonds Street and was interested in art. I had attended evening lectures at the Auckland Art Gallery and remember the thrill of emerging into the night to see, see with a new awareness, flat and tilted planes of light and dark, a veritable cubist composition in the Kitchener Street cityscape. By the time that the 1950s closed I was a 22 years old, married and soon to leave for 2 years in Australia, a trip that lasted for 10 years. Fashion there was formal too, but the visual arts were what I would describe now as a ‘blast’. Looking at culture then and now, I realise how closed and structured our attitudes were in the 1950s. But hey, I’m still alive, and perceptions and opportunities in fashion and culture are expansive and inclusive and I’m here as part of it all. Helen Hagen. March 2008.