I sincerely hope you're not tired of seeing me in menswear, because as spake immortal Miley Cyrus, "We can't stop, and we won't stop."
These pants are on loan from my girlfriend, who wore them in a production of Father of the Bride many years ago in summer stock. And by "on loan," I mean they're mine, forever.
The NRA label dates the pants to 1933-1935, which is a terrifically specific period--I think the smallest window of any label I've come across. They haven't reached old age without a few battle scars--moths got to them, I'm assuming while in costume storage, and the stripes down the sides have seen better days. I've patched up the bigger holes, and I may look at trying to cover the bald spots on the stripes with some new ribbon (without disturbing the original). I haven't been able to mend every small hole, as there's just too many, but as with people, sometimes it's better to just accept and love vintage clothing as-is.
|Evidence these pants lived in a costume shop-- a slightly hurried alteration!|
|The stripe's a little worn at the pockets|
|I'm actually not thrilled with this photo, but I realized I totally blanked on getting a shot of the back of the suspenders, and they're visible here in the glass reflection.|
|It's windy out there!|