The 1940's • 1940-1949 • Fashion History Movies Music | A tribute to our greatest generation The 1940's • 1940-1949 • Fashion History Movies Music

Welcome to the 1940’s

Neon signs flash through the darkness on a rainy night in the city. Halos form above dimly lit street lamps. From the rooftop ballroom of the Club Dahlia in 1940’s downtown Miami, you’re listening to the sweet sounds of the Glenn Miller Orchestra.

Hyper-femininity, I love you. Signed, chivalry.

Your hair in long loose pin curls, maybe a hair comb holding back one side. Best of all a cupid’s bow of bright red lipstick.. and as red as the law will allow. Peep-toe slingback platforms. You dress in a modest fashion masterpiece.. maybe one... Read More »

The 1948 Presidential Election and Political Americana

President Franklin D. Roosevelt passed away early in 1945, less than three months into his fourth presidential term. Shortly after his death, Harry Truman was sworn in as President of the United States. When Truman was first given the honor and daunt... Read More »

Pierce Hale, Private Eye: Shoulder Pads and “Johnny Mop”

A late summer’s evening in post-war 1940’s Miami, and I guess you get so used to gunfire that after a while you don’t pay much attention to it. Unless, of course, the bullets hit the bricks above your head. I reached out to grab my lady t... Read More »

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Bring back the 1940’s

1940s-lifeRooftop ballrooms, inviting a soldier to dinner, the percussion of high heels across a heavy wooden floor, film noir. Lips as red as the law will allow, walking slowly on a misty morning, the buzzing of old neon. The torch song, boats made of mahogany and toy prizes made of tin, pride in appearance, Gene Tierney’s angelic glow. Black satin opera gloves, friends that sign your autograph shirt, Lux Radio Theater, riding in the rumble seat. The melody in music, handwritten letters from home, halos above street lamps in the rain, Winston Churchill. Radios as big as appliances, grilled cheese sandwiches with a dill pickle spear at Woolworth’s, the soul of our nation. Stickball, the magic of Fred and Ginger, a silver dollar from grandma, picnics in the park, letting the good guy win. Dressing up for the movies, the warmth of Christmas morning, an evening next to the radio, Bogie and Bacall. Squeezing into the photo booth with your best friend, kissing goodbye at the train station, Kilroy, the dance hall. Saturday mornings at the barber shop, sounds of children playing tag, leaning over the fence to talk to our neighbor, meeting a date at the soda fountain. The allure born of mystery, riding our bikes in the summer rain, grandma’s medicine chest, searching for four leaf clovers. Dancing until your wingtips glow, staring through display windows downtown, glass milk containers, the 1946 Wurlitzer. Making flour and water paste, a teen’s jalopy, time standing still, sending box tops for decoder rings, Sunday dinner. Hide and seek at dusk, big bands, Hollywood elegance, Superman on the radio, the lunch counter at the 5&10, fedoras.[fap_playlist id=”133″ layout=”hidden” enqueue=”no” play_playlist_button=”” button_enqueue=”no”][fap_playlist id=”133″ layout=”hidden” enqueue=”no” play_playlist_button=”” button_enqueue=”no”]