(image taken from GlamAmor)
(image taken from Bright Wall Dark Room)
I was indoctrinated into the cult of early Hollywood obsession young, my mother thrusting films like Sunset Boulevard and All About Eve and A Patch of Blue onto me, opening my cultural world to a bygone era of studio productions, infinite glamor, timeless influential style, violently romantic personalities. Lauren Bacall, obviously, became among the cast of favorite actors once the addiction took its hold and began to manifest without the coaxing persuasion of my mother, her nonchalant attitude, purring voice, sharp wit, and utter sexiness too alluring to ignore. Her impact on film history is grand, playing the beauty-brains-brawn trifecta opposite Hollywood stalwarts like Humphrey Bogart, but her impact on fashion trends and fashion classics is also undeniable, serving as muse to artists like Yves Saint Laurent and Giorgio Armani, helping to shape their penchant for impeccably tailored lines. She was strong, and her immaculate suits mirrored that inner strength. With her death, we are reminded that those days, that old Hollywood institution, is remote, apart from our current reality, but a force whose palpitations we continue to feel and to love.