Exactitudes

I loved this amusing and interesting project featured on the often-very-interesting Slate slideshow yesterday. Photographer Ari Versluis and his creative partner Ellie Uyttenbroek specialize in cataloging sartorial "types". Once they've observed enough people in a city for a "type" to emerge, they invite people with that style to come into their studio to be photographed, and they then combine their images. Great fun, and a reminder that none of us are really as creatively attired as we think we are.

The project website is here, although I had some trouble getting it to work consistently.

Photo by Ari Versluis, via Slate.com.

cold war relic

One of the things that I like so much about thrifting is that it often leads to a mini research project, since you never know what you're going to find. The run-up to Halloween is my favorite time to shop, since stores bring out their stash of hoarded vintage and ethnic clothes, so I've started making my rounds. I had been looking for a while for an olive-drab lightweight military jacket or shirt for myself (it seems like all I ever find are various camo versions), so I snatched this one right up:



It looked old, but I wasn't sure if that was just because of the wear on it. I had absolutely no idea what the patches meant, so I started to research and found some interesting things (here's the patch closer up).



It turns out that the US Air Force Security Service was founded in 1948 and operated until 1979, when it changed names (so my shirt is definitely no newer than 1979). The interesting part is that it was the cryptographic intelligence branch during the Cold War, made up of the top 0.5 % of Air Force recruits. They intercepted military information from "countries of interest" (Soviet bloc, etc.) through spoken and Morse code sources (they also analyzed US methods to find and correct weak spots in military security, although apparently sometimes these analysis jobs were really a cover for their more covert intelligence missions). To quote Wikipedia:

These jobs, which required top secret codeword clearance, were extremely high pressure and were considered essential to U.S. cold war efforts. Members of the USAFSS were not allowed to discuss their jobs with outsiders — in fact, USAFSS members could not talk amongst themselves about their jobs unless they were in a secure location. Because of their value as targets, e.g. in Cold War Berlin, the capture of a USAFSS member was worth several thousand dollars, their off-base travel was severely restricted. Many adopted "cover jobs" to more easily conceal their real work.

Linguistics-related intrigue! Way more interesting than my initial assumption that "Security Service" implied some kind of run-of-the-mill, well, security--as in guarding a base. Also, as a pacifist by nature, the idea of a shirt worn by a spy is more appealing than the idea of a shirt worn by an infantryman.

Here's a bonus factoid: Johnny Cash was in the USAFSS as a Morse code intercept operator in Germany in the early 1950s.

free pattern: mariner shirt

Over the last few years my sister has given me the most spectacular collection of old knitting books and magazines that she's thrifted. There's a wealth of great patterns in them, despite the sometimes-unfortunate (but amusing) styling, so look for more of these in the future.

Despite the fact that summer is almost over in a lot of places, this looks quick enough to finish before it's really fall, especially if it's done in the round up to the arms. It's from 1976, by the way. {Click on the image to enlarge.}

Pendleton and the collective unconscious

Look at that sweater!

Partly because I just finished a Navajo-inspired design, Slate's slideshow on the history of the Pendleton blanket caught my eye this morning. Not only was it really interesting in itself, it led me to discover Pendleton's new Portland Collection, which is beautiful.

I especially like this quote from the slideshow (talking about Navajo weaving):

So as white Americans were making blankets that were supposed to look authentically Native American for a largely Native American market, Native Americans were making textiles tailored to white use for white people.

That dynamic reminds me of the West African wax textiles made in the Netherlands (although production has increased greatly in China...which reminds me of the interesting expansion of Chinese business in Africa).

This also reminds me how interesting trends are; the Slate slideshow pegged the recent interest in Native American (-ish) design elements as starting around 3 years ago--exactly the time I suddenly developed a burning desire for a pair of moccasins*. I still haven't figured out how it works, but I think there's something to be said for the idea of the collective unconscious**.



*Which turned out to be the most comfortable shoes I've ever had, and surprisingly durable for shoes with no conventional sole.
**I'm sure that this application of the term would make a true Jungian bang his/her head against the nearest wall.

{ Photo from the Fall/Winter 2011 Pendleton Portland Collection lookbook, via honeykennedy.com. }

le rayon vert

I watched Le Rayon Vert (Summer) a while back and was slightly surprised at how much I liked a lot of the clothes in it. This is surely an indicator of age, the dividing line being between a Youngster (who would say, "of course the clothes are great, it's from the 80s") and a non-Youngster (who would either dislike the clothes or be surprised at liking so many of them).

Although it would undoubtedly tire a viewer with little patience for a neurotic heroine and/or a distaste for the French pastime of sitting around and having borderline-combative philosophical exchanges over food and beverages, I would recommend this movie to those not falling into the former two categories. It really is a sweet movie if you can get past the dithering and frequent crying jags.

By the way, the last time I watched the sun set over the ocean (which is not something I have occasion to do very often), I did not see the fabled green ray, somewhat to my disappointment.