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Vintage Icons: Jean Patchett

>> Tuesday, January 4, 2011 – 



Jean Patchett was the face of Vogue throughout the 1950s. With her darling little beauty spot, heart shaped face, and droll red lips, she stole hearts across America. The Vogue photographer, Irving Penn, once said that Jean was a "young American Goddess of Paris Couture." It's said that when she wasn't shooting, she would spend her time on the beach and making clothes. Sounds wonderful to me!

Look here for those dazzling starlet earrings, here for a luxe scarf, and here for colorful gloves to spice up the grays of wintertime.

>>  Posted by Liz at 12:00 PM |  1 comment  | 

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Favorite Quotes

"Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point." - C.S. Lewis

"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Somewhere I Have Never Travelled

Somewhere I Have Never Travelled
(By E. E. Cummings) Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond Any experience, your eyes have their silence: In your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, Or which I cannot touch because they are too near Your slightest look easily will unclose me Though I have closed myself as fingers, You open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (Touching skillfully, mysteriously)her first rose Or if your wish be to close me, I and My life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly, As when the heart of this flower imagines The snow carefully everywhere descending; Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals The power of your intense fragility: whose texture Compels me with the color of its countries, Rendering death and forever with each breathing (I do not know what it is about you that closes And opens; only something in me understands The voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

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