Baba, But Never a Black Sheep

I wrote a blog earlier this month and almost had it ready to publish when life took an unexpected turn. My grandmother, who had been battling dementia for the last three years, passed away last week. it didn't feel right to move on without acknowledging the impact she had on me, and the life she led. So, here are the stories of the woman who shaped my interest in the 1960's, and helped inspire this very brand...

I feel I should preface this story with a quick explanation of the title. My grandmother, for as long as I can remember, has been called “Baba.” I was the oldest grandchild and before I was old enough to explain why or speak in full sentences that was what I decided to call her. Why it stuck is beyond me, but 25 years and nine more grandchildren later we all still remember her as “Baba.” 

Her story starts in 1948 on Easter Sunday, in the middle of Missouri. Born Carol McWilliams to her parents Ray and Norma. She had one older sister, and a brother ten years her junior. She used to tell me how every Christmas she would ask her parents for a pet monkey, until finally, she got a little brother instead.

"Baba" at her home in the mid-1960's

Carol did well in school, but in early years struggled with a speech impediment and teachers would sometimes rely on her older sister to "translate." She quickly grew out of this and became very social. She made many friends and was given the nickname "Mac." She may not have known it then, but the nickname, as well as many of those friendships would last a lifetime. In highschool Carol joined the volleyball team and with her they never lost a game. Impressive when you consider she barely reached 5'.

One of her favorite stories to tell of her highschool days was one Christmas when she'd saved up her babysitting money to buy her then boyfriend a blue mohair sweater. He had already given her his class ring, and they were considered "quite serious" by their friends. When she gave him his Christmas gift she was disappointed to receive a comparatively cheap gift in return.

Shortly after this she received a call from another friend of hers telling her that her boyfriend was at the movies with another girl. Carol didn't waste any time but rushed to her best friend, Carol Jean's house and announced "Come on, we're going to a show!"

Before any protest could be made by their parents they were off to the movies. Carol remembered stepping in line for soda at the theater, but not allowing her friend to take the time to get popcorn. Carol Jean was still unsuspicious, as they often would share a soda and Carol hadn't explained why they were really there. Once inside Carol Jean recalled how Carol wouldn't share the soda, but started slowing dipping her boyfriend's ring in the sticky drink. Then Carol Jean started putting two and two together. A few rows ahead of them sat Carol's boyfriend, wearing a blue mohair sweater.

"Come on, it's time to go." Carol said, but she didn't walk towards the door. instead she walked right up to her boyfriend and said; "Here's your ring back" before dropping it on the floor of the darkened theater. As he bent down to search for the ring in the dark Carol poured the rest of the soda over his head! Not wasting any time she grabbed Carol Jean's arm and ran out of the theater!

After graduating highschool in 1966 Carol moved to Washington DC with a close friend, Charlene, after they both accepted secretarial jobs in the FBI building. They moved into a small furnished apartment and relied on dates and care packages from their parents as their source of meals before they received their first paychecks.

In an attempt to get free meals they also befriended the young men across the hall and offered to cook for everyone if they would buy the groceries. This arrangement didn't last, as it didn't take the guys long to realize neither of the girls knew how to cook.

Carol visiting the FBI building where she used to work over 20 years later

Employees at the FBI were required to adhere to a strict curfew, and risked their jobs if they we're caught out after 11pm. Carol recalled having background checks and even being shadowed a few times.

Aside from the controlling work conditions the girls enjoyed their time in Washington, going to iconic clubs such as the Washington location of the Whiskey-a Go-Go, (Carol kept the matchbook she got there among her souvenirs until she gave it to me last year.) and looking up celebrities in the FBI files for updated gossip.

In 1967 Baba moved back home with her family and worked a variety of office jobs over the following years. Her high school friends still got together regularly and would meet up to play volleyball whenever they could.  

Along with volleyball another hobby that stuck was dancing. Carol and Carol Jean would often drop in local hot spots to grab a drink and dance. It was at one of these hot spots in early 1970 that Carol met the man who she would spend the rest of her life with. 

My grandfather Harold was quite the beauty standard back in the day. When I was a teenager and working at a local grocers the older women in town would tell me how attractive they thought he was and all about the big crushes they had on him in high school. (And evidently still had.)

I wish i had a better photo of the dress, because it was truly fabulous!

Carol remembered first laying eyes on him and not thinking he would be interested in her. ( I’d like to mention here that she was drop dead gorgeous as well and the idea that any guy wouldn’t have been interested is just absurd.)  He asked her to dance and she was instantly smitten. After three dates he proposed, six months later they were married. Harold in a black tux and Carol in a pink mini dress. (I’m convinced she was the IT girl!)

They had four children together, my mother being one of them. Though the road could get rocky at times Carol stated she was most proud of being Harold’s wife. 

Carol and Harold in the early 70's

Though I’ve chosen to focus this story on her life in the 60’s, she certainly didn’t slow down after that, throughout my mother’s life and my own she continued to meet new friends, stay in touch with old ones, and absolutely destroy anyone who challenged her to a volleyball game. She was vibrant, mischievous, full of love, and maintained a bigger social circle than I could fathom.  And that’s exactly how I think she would want to be remembered. 

"Baba" and me in 2004

The story ends in just just about the same way it begins, on Easter Sunday. That’s when the funeral was held, in a tiny little church she had attended for the last 50 years. The church was full with just as many friends as family and the pastor was asked to give a memorial service that incorporated the message of the resurrection in honor of Easter. The message was kept short at her request and after the burial everyone stayed for lunch that was mostly comprised of doughnuts and popcorn. She would’ve loved it. 

Minis, Mary, and the Mad Fight for Morality

Today most women living in urban areas own a dress with a hemline more than five inches above their knees. It’s become so common it’s no longer a statement but a staple. It might be difficult to imagine a dress so simple holds such a prominent place in women’s history. 

Sixty-one years ago the miniskirt hit the market in London, with Mary Quant at the forefront of modern designers.

Whether you believe she truly invented the look or not, they’re no denying how synonymous her name became with the movement.

Mary Quant started her business in London, at her iconic boutique, “Bazaar.” It was fresh, new and unlike other fashion houses, it was completely accessible to the youth. The mini quickly became a global phenomenon, and just as quickly a subject of heated debate. Across the world schools, collages and businesses were discussing the moral implications of the miniskirt. 

Men in positions of authority questioned if the miniskirt would lead to to young girls becoming more promiscuous, and stated the minis were “a call for the attention of young men.”  (As we have seen many times in history, they were wrong.) Although there’s no denying some girls liked the attention it may have brought, there were so many other reasons girls were flocking to the new fashion. 

The mini represented the shift in fashion being tailored to the culture rather than the culture being influenced by the fashion. It was fresh start for women who could access new styles readily without the need to  have garments custom tailored. The mini also had the advantage of simplicity. Its simple lines and short length made it easy to sew with little fabric making it an affordable and attractive option for women who sewed their own clothes.

Miniskirts became so politicized, when Dior didn't feature any minis in their 1966 collection a group of young women picketed with signs reading "Miniskirts Forever!' (God bless these women, I want to be just like them.) This type of pushback wasn't completely unheard of either, all over Europe and America young girls were demanding the right to wear their skirts however they liked.

Mary Quant famously stated: “I didn’t have time to wait for women’s liberation.” 

It’s a rather simple quote. It wasn’t a matter of wanting to make anyone upset, or become a big hero in the women’s liberation movement. It’s was simply the idea that Mary (and many other women) wanted to wear what they wanted on their own terms. 

In 1966 Mary Quant was awarded the OBE at Buckingham palace, and arrived wearing one of her own miniskirts. Sparking further media controversy and solidifying herself as an icon in both the fashion industry and women’s history.  

Today the miniskirt is largely excepted, and Mary Quant has gone done in history as one the greats.

Finding Fashion

A personal guide for becoming confident in your own style. 

We’ve all been there, staring in the mirror knowing if you actually wear that outfit people are going to notice you. This of course brings the terrifying realization we are constantly being perceived. Will people like it? Will they say rude things about it? What if they pretend to like it and then say rude things behind your back? All of these questions flow into your brain and maybe you decide not to wear the outfit. 

I make bright over the top clothes for a living and still sometimes find myself wondering if I’m being “too much.” Growing up in a tiny mid-western town isn’t an experience I recommend for individualists. As a kid, I would have grown adults telling me I dressed weird. when I was a teenager, I was told by my friends’ parents my dresses were too short and I was being “ungodly” by wearing them. People made assumptions about my sexuality when I cut my hair to a pixie. I even went through a phase where I only wore Bermuda shorts and oversized T-shirts in an effort to fit in. (Hard to believe isn’t it?) When I was in my later teens, I battled depression and anxiety as a result of being bullied and feeling unaccomplished. When I turned eighteen I made a goal; I was going to start doing all the things I’d been afraid to do as teenager because of how people would perceive me. 

I started wearing whatever I wanted, including capes, huge themed earrings and miniskirts. I went to the movies alone, spent my spare time working on my car and saved my money for travel. It took almost a year before I started feeling like myself again. I spent all my savings on two trips the following summer, both of which impacted me on a deeply personal and spiritual level. Then in early fall, I moved to the big city and experienced something completely  unexpected; kindness. Growing up I’d always heard about how rude New Yorkers were, and that’s what I expected to find. Instead I found a community of people who didn’t care how I dressed and accepted me anyway. Don’t get me wrong, there are still plenty of rude New Yorkers! But there’s so many wonderful people there too. 

I took their kindness to heart and learned a lot while I was there. I learned how to express myself without fear of rejection and I learned no matter what you wear, say or do, there will always be people who don’t like it and people who do. 

So why is personal style so important? In short, it’s a practical application of freedom of choice. Wearing the clothes you want to wear gives you a sense of control and comfort. A study I read on Science Direct coined the term “enclothed cognition” referring to how the clothes you wear actually have an effect on how you act. Their study showed people who wore a lab coat to work in the lab were more focused and assured in their work than those who didn’t. They went on to explain that wearing the right clothes often gives us a sense of importance. In an old sewing textbook I read recently the writer suggests “When you sew, make yourself as attractive as possible. Go through your usual beauty ritual. Have on a clean dress, and file your nails.” 

I initially brushed off the advice as midcentury sexism, (the first sentence just sets wrong with me, but the book was published in 1949, so I guess I shouldn’t set high expectations). Though I hate to admit it, I understand their sentiment. If I choose to stay in my pajamas all day I almost always have a less productive day than if I get dressed in something that makes me feel confident. 

So how do we find our personal style? By experimenting! By wearing whatever appeals to us until it comes second nature. In todays world we have access the internet and some of the most valuable tools for developing our own style: documentation and connection. 

Documenting your journey (whether you post it online or not) is a great way to track your progress and see what outfits feel the most like you. 

Connection is equally important because not only does it build community with people it also becomes a resource of inspiration!  Any social media app tends to be a great place to find connections, if you’re on Facebook try finding a group with a similar aesthetic as yours, on Instagram don’t be afraid to reach out to other creators! Most people love to talk about their interests and all you have to do is open the door for conversation. 

Surround yourself with people who encourage you, and distance yourself from those who want to drag you down. Once you start wearing the outfits and stepping out of your comfort zone the confidence will come with it.

-Coco Elouise Marie