Liquid Diamonds...

What could possibly be more glamorous than an evening gown drenched in silver sequins?
 Joanne gives this late 60's gown a decidedly 1930's feel, it looks like it was plucked from Ginger Rogers dressing room. The simple, almost demure top with the long floor sweeping skirt gives it an elegance that a lot of sequined evening gowns seem to lack.
 The dress still has its' original tag and was made in California. The name of the designer escapes me but it was something like an Alyce Original. It was originally priced at 570. which back in those days was boo koo bucks. Hell, even today that seems like a lot of money...The dress is currently being featured in the store window and is waiting for you to come in and try it on.

Shoes Of Consequence

I recently aquired a huge collection of vintage heels made by Henry Waters, Shoes of Consequence. The woman who had owned them had a voracious appetite for pumps and could not be satisfied until she had every shade, tint, print and texture in her collection. I almost drowned in a sea of shoes in her hall closet. I looked like a crazed moron stuffing them into my jumbo Ikea bag. Her name was Jerry, and Jerry had not one but 14 pairs of lavender springolaters, all in very slight variation of one another. She had at least 20 pairs of gold shoe's... but I know-- who doesn't?  Jerry was my kind of gal. She loved beauty and surrounded herself with glamorous things. A lot of Jerry's favorite things will be on sale at Xtabay over the next couple weeks. Come by and feast your eyes.

The Most Beautiful Dress in the World

There's an old affliction, popular during the 19th century, called the "Stendhal Syndrome". People--especially women--who saw great works of art or heard lush music sometimes felt their heartbeats accelerate and even occasionally fainted because of the beauty. I was always skeptical of this reaction. I figured maybe Victorian ladies didn't get out much, you know?

Then I saw the early 1960s orange brocade Arnold Scaasi cocktail dress and matching jacket Liz brought to the Xtabay. By God, I shivered all over. My breathing grew shallow. I didn't faint, but my pulse went from waltz to samba. Now I'm a believer.

A lucky, last minute invitation to the Oregon Historical Society's History Makers' Dinner came my way, and I had to find something black tie to wear. I knew that men would wear tuxedos, but what does "black tie" mean for women in Portland? Leave the fleece and crocs at home but anything else is fair game?

I have a 1940s gown tucked away, and although it has a few stains (it has sequin trim, so it can't be safely drycleaned) I decided to steam it out at the Xtabay, pair it with MAC "O" lipstick, and take it to the party. In the light of day, it looked a little dingy. Still, the dinner was just a few hours away, and I didn't have any other options.

Then in walked Liz with the Scaasi dream set. As a special favor, she said I could wear it to the dinner if I paid for dry cleaning afterward and made sure to protect the jacket's delicate silk lining. I stripped down in the dressing room to try it on, and as soon as I slid it over my hips, I knew it would be perfect. The dress is a strapless, sculpted brocade, and it zipped over my torso firmly enough that I wouldn't have to adjust the girls all night, but loosely enough to be comfortable. The skirt fell in an artful, centered pleat, strategically located over my stomach. No sucking in the gut required. The matching jacket--I'm swooning now just thinking of it!--has the high, tight armholes and narrow shoulders typical of the era. But guess what? I have narrow shoulders and small arms! Plus, I had a pair of gold Prada stiletto sandals at home that might have been made just for the ensemble.

That night, I dolled myself up and headed down the red carpet leading to the dinner. Immediately, Norma Paulus, a former Oregon Secretary of State, complimented me on the dress and wanted to talk about her mother-in-law's fabulous 1950s wardrobe (which I suggested she tote off to Xtabay right away). I'm telling you--every waiter, state senator, timber heiress, and security guard I saw touched my shoulder to tell me I looked great. Michael Powell, bookstore kingpin, stopped me and said, "You're in the wrong place. You look too good to be here." The head of the Heathman's catering said, "I noticed you as soon as you walked into the room". A waiter asked if he could have my phone number. I gave away a stack of Xtabay business cards on my first trip to the restroom to a line of waiting ladies--including Gert Boyle. That dress was pure magic.

And, of course, the next day I had to turn it back in to Xtabay. (Cue the funeral music). I had felt the most beautiful I've ever been in that dress. How could I live without that feeling again? How could I go out at night knowing I might see someone else wearing it? Who else would look as good in orange brocade?

I told Liz I'd pay whatever she wanted for the dress. I need it. If my portrait is ever painted again (the last time I was wearing a boring old black thing) it needs to be in that dress. I want to be buried in that dress. Give me a choice between Sean Connery circa the Goldfinger era and the Scaasi, and I'd choose the dress. It is the most beautiful dress in the world.

Now all that's left is to cross my fingers while Liz figures things out and pray that a person can't die from the Stendhal Syndrome.

Holly Andres Portraits of Xtabay

The beautiful and talented Portland photographer Holly Andres stopped by the shop recently and took my portrait. Here are some of the images she came up with. Now if she could only make me look like this in real life...
Liz wearing a 1960's Travilla evening gown.

Thanks Holly for immortalizing us!

Latest Favorite Find

Buried in the depths of a dark closet, amidst poly slacks and decorative sweatshirts, I found this evening gown. Tucked away in a diamond tuck print gold plastic garment bag, it looked as if it hadn't been touched since it was last worn, maybe sometime in 1952. It took a trip to the dry cleaners and a bit of stitching to return it to it's original stature. It's so glamorous I can barely stand it!

On a body it does what all good dresses should do. It carves out a wasp-like waist. It makes your breasts spill over in generous abundance and it gives you hypnotic hips. Maybe I'm being a little dramatic but really...look at it...

The dress is being featured in our front window this week. Feel free to come by and be blown away.