On this day in 1953, Massachusetts Senator John F. Kennedy, the future 35th president of the United States, marries Jacqueline Bouvier in Newport, Rhode Island. Seven years later, the couple would become the youngest president and first lady in American history.
Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy was born into a prominent New York family in 1929 and grew into an avid horsewoman and reader. In 1951, after graduating from George Washington University, Jackie, as she was called, took a tour of Europe.
That fall, she returned to the U.S. to begin her first job as the Washington Times-Herald’s “Inquiring Camera Girl.”
"A mere week and a half before Jacqueline Bouvier became a Kennedy, her wedding dress was famously destroyed in a Madison Avenue studio flood, causing her mother to turn to a little-known African-American designer named Ann Lowe for help.
Lowe came to their rescue and created the famous gown for a mere $500—a steal, even during that time—despite the fact that she was not publicly given credit for it."
Shortly afterward, she met a young, handsome senator from Massachusetts named John Kennedy at a dinner party in Georgetown. They dated over the next two years, during which time Jackie mused at the idea that she might actually marry a man who was allergic to horses, something she never thought she would have considered.
In 1953, the two were engaged, when Kennedy gave Jackie a 2.88-carat diamond-and-emerald ring from Van Cleef and Arpels.
The Curtain Dress, designed by Walter Plunkett, was a symbol of Scarlett's will to survive, was worn in three scenes: the jail scene in which Scarlett asks Rhett for financial assistance, the scene in which Scarlett walks through the Atlanta streets with Mammy, and the scene in which Scarlett meets Frank Kennedy.
The color of the dress presented Plunkett with several challenges. It had to suit the color of Vivien Leigh's eyes, and it had to conform to Technicolor specifications. Furthermore, the dress had to look as though it were made from the draperies at Tara.
It is believed that Plunkett deliberately treated or exposed the fabric to sunlight to achieve a faded appearance. However, the fading is not apparent onscreen through the vibrant green of the Technicolor process, and the fading and discoloration present on the fabric today is likely not what Plunkett may have attempted in 1939.
Also known as the Drapery Dress and the Portieres dress, the curtain dress is comprised of two separate garments. The green velvet skirt parts in the front to reveal a chartreuse velvet underskirt and is attached to sleeveless cotton under bodice.
The separate green velvet bodice has long fitted sleeves and a capelet on the left shoulder. The final piece in the ensemble is the distinctive drapery cord belt with two tassels at each end.
1. Margaret Mitchell was inspired by her great-grandmother's curtains. Eleanor Fitzgerald, her great-grandmother, had elaborate velvet curtains hanging in her home. Indeed, the Fitzgerald plantation was the primary inspiration for Tara.
After the fields and farmlands were destroyed in the war, according to the family story heard often by young Margaret, Eleanor's heavy velvet drapes still hung, a remnant of the genteel dignity of the house through the darkest times.
2. The dress was designed to look faded, but it didn't show in Technicolor.
Plunkett knew that real curtains would be irregularly bleached from constant exposure to the sun, and tried to recreate that look. But the heavy color saturation of Technicolor film meant that effect didn't come across in the movie.
3. The total cost of the outfit was $485.
According to the book The Art of Gone With The Wind by Judy Cameron, that price tag includes $400 for the dress and $85 for the two cock-feather hats that were necessary for the production. That would be roughly $8,300 in 2014 dollars.
If Scarlett had had that kind of money lying around, she could have paid off that tax bill without asking for Rhett's help.
4. The original dress was so damaged, restorers weren't sure they would ever be able to exhibit it again.
“There are extensive alterations and it's not clear when or why they were done,” said conservator Cara Varnell in 2010, adding that to restore the faded green color would only damage the dress further.
It was only after the University of Texas raised $30,000 to restore it and other GWTW dresses that the Curtain Dress was finally deemed sturdy enough to display.
Over the years, various authors have intimated things about Edsel Ford, but have never been able to prove them. That he was an alcoholic, for example, or that he was a homosexual. As a historian, I too had wondered about these things and was always on the lookout for ways to prove anything about this most elusive Ford.
I once asked Frank Hershey, the marvelous automobile designer, who worked for most of the large automobile companies—including Ford—throughout the thirties, forties, and fifties, and was a homosexual himself, if he thought Edsel Ford was gay.
“I don’t know,” he said, “but he could have been. He liked art…, he dressed sharp, and he wore fine jewelry. I like those things, too. (Wink, wink.) Back in those days, you kept it a secret if you were gay. I did, and I’m as gay as they come. Maybe Edsel did, too.”
After I got to know Bob Gregorie well, I was dying to ask him what skeletons were in Edsel Ford’s closet. After all, if anybody knew the answer to that question, it would be Gregorie. He had worked closely with Edsel for fifteen years, meeting with him practically every day in the design studio.
They were both yachtsmen, loved design, and spoke the same language. Gregorie was one of the few—very few—men at Ford Motor Company that Edsel could confide in. (The other one was Ernest Kanzler, Edsel’s brother-in-law, but had Henry fired him years earlier.) If Edsel would have mentioned any of his foibles to anyone, it would have been Gregorie. Firstly, the two were friends. And secondly, Gregorie would keep his mouth shut.
But I was afraid to ask Gregorie what he knew about Edsel’s darkest secrets, because I was concerned that he would be insulted, so I never did. But fortuitously, he brought it up himself!
One day, we were reviewing the chapter I had written about Edsel Ford for my book on Edsel and Gregorie liked it very much, but then added: “I wish there was something spicy about Edsel Ford that we could put in this chapter…, you know…, liven it up a bit. But,” he said with a little tone of disappointment, “there isn’t anything. Edsel Ford was a nice man…, a gentleman…, and that’s it.” HD