Ruth Davis (Espy), 1907
Some months ago, when we received the invitation to the “World Premiere” of the final episode of the Willapa Bay Oysters documentary series, we jokingly speculated about the appropriate dress code for such an event. A film premiere, after all, conjures up visions of red carpets and searchlights and people arriving in full formal regalia – long gowns, jewels, tuxes, top hats.
“In your dreams,” we laughed. This world premiere, after all, was occurring in Raymond, Washington in conjunction with the nearby town of South Bend’s annual Labor Day Weekend Extravaganza, “The Oyster Stampede,” not known to be a dress-up affair. While filmmaker Keith Cox was completely serious about honoring those who had ‘starred’ in his series, he is certainly not a pretentious kind of guy. We were pretty sure it would be business-as-usual in the dress code department: levis and whatever the accoutrements that go with them.
We were right. Almost. It was a hot day so the look was even more cool and casual than might be expected. In fact, Keith himself was in shorts and a tee shirt, looking for all the world like a poster boy for clothing comfort which seems to be the watchword these days as far as dress code is concerned.
Willard Thomas Espy, 1904
At the reception following the premiere, we happened to sit near Marge and Don Cox, grandparents of Keith. Marge confided that she had wondered a bit about what to wear and actually felt a little overdressed. She looked ‘appropriately dressed’ to me – several steps up from levis, for sure, but no tulle or satin, either.
I think that probably anything goes these days. There don’t seem to be any guidelines. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s part of this “all about me” syndrome we seem to be wallowing in. Somehow, it’s considered an affront to a person’s individuality to expect any sort of conformity or display of good taste.
I’m saddened by that. I love looking at the photographs in my grandmother’s album. In the early 1900s, even in remote Oysterville, people were fashion conscious and could dress to the nines when the occasion required it. It’s obvious they took pride in their looks and in themselves.
It’s probably an old-age thing, but I do wish we weren’t quite so laissez faire about our attire these days. Not that I’m especially fond of dressing up or even have the wardrobe to do so. But it sure makes for pleasant spectator opportunities. And what will the next generations think about the photographs we leave behind?
I cannot express strongly enough how much I agree with you, Sydney. I’ve not been a church goer in a long time, but I do know that “anything goes” so as to be inclusive. I got chewed out by a friend for complaining about this policy. I’m supposed to look slobby so as to not make someone how has no “Sunday-goin’-to-meetin'” clothes? My mother brought me up to believe that we tell people what we think of them by the way we dress for them. My husband sniffs at that, but I have noticed that since we’ve been married he makes more of an effort to look nice when we go out.
Your mom is a wise woman! I would add that we also tell others what to think about us by the way we dress…
Ah memories surface of the late 40s and 50s, when going into “the city” (San Francisco) meant, for me, a suit, or similar attire for women plus nylons and heels. Even a stroll from home to downtown San Rafael required “cleaning up…” meaning no Levis 501s and an oversized man’s white dress shirt….
I remember when opening night at the Portland Opera was quite a show.