Vice Style

We think Alexandra Citrin secretly really really wants to be a bizarrely young, upper, upper middle class housewife hottie with unlikely sex appeal. But it's actually OK, because instead of writing some boring article about it, she's written this banging wardrobe-focused film review.

The Shining is about two things: ghosts that make Jack Nicholson kill people and corduroy. But I’m here to focus on the corduroy and also my favorite sport fuckable actress of yore, Shelley Duvall.

At first blush, Duvall’s wardrobe should be something of an afterthought. Breakfast at Tiffany’s this is not. Thank God, because seriously, I want to smash bottles over the heads of people citing that movie as style inspiration. Anyway, The Shining is a Kubrick film so I’ll make the generally informed assumption that everything in this film was thoroughly thought through.

The accidental side effect of such carefully crafted frumpery is that Duvall completely pulls it off. She’s, like, 92lbs in this movie, so her multiple layers kind of work without making her look like a parade float. Further still, what was intended to look mousy by keeping the hair and make-up to a minimum in the cosmetically trigger happy late 70s, actually reads as fresh and attractively windburned in some salt of the Earth woman way. Neither should we forget how Wendy managed to outrun young babe Jack in something like 45 layers of long underwear and a flannel coat. Movie magic, as they say. Below, Wendy’s key looks from The Shining, broken down.

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THE BREAKFAST OUTFIT

This one rules the hardest. It’s the perfect mix of frump and hotness aka the golden ratio. I have wasted hours of my life trying to nail the naïve young mother look Duvall is killing in this scene. She wears a pinafore over long red underwear. Her skin is rosy and she has a shag haircut that looks like it was hacked at with a knife aka foreshadowing. Nice, huh? Jury is still out on whether this outfit makes me want to jump her bones. It’s a known fact that Wendy was not supposed to come off as sexxxxy even in unconventional terms—all of those layers are quite literally meant to suffocate it out of her. Tough job, since I think young Shelley Duvall is a regulation hottie, but my opinion on the matter is of course skewed by personal prejudice and a healthy dose of vagina envy for those limber bony types. That being said, as much as fashion may be about buying shiny stretchy pricey things in order to get laid, I find style itself is about being irreverent as fuck, dressing accordingly, and still getting laid regardless of how retarded you look. So the line is blurry with this outfit in terms of its overall sex appeal. Regardless, I certainly want her to bum me a cig and fix me a bowl of cereal, and in some ways, isn’t that enough? I bet she smells like burning leaves and Lysol.

THE STORAGE ROOM

I have to give a shout out to everyone in this scene for looking awesome, but I’m sadly less inclined to delve into men’s fashion for the time being—like porn, I can’t define it, but I know it when I see it. So, moving on: BROWN. Look at all that brown! It’s the color of dirt! Kahlua! Some people! And Wendy shows a diplomatic mastering over the entire chocolate rainbow here. Despite showing no skin below the neck whatsoever, she’s actually looking fairly sharp. You can too! Just remember to keep that blazer fitted and the skirt swingy. This looks good because of the proportions above all and is not the time to toss on the oversized blazer you supposedly borrowed from your also supposed boyfriend. Give it up. Everyone knows you bought it yourself. Life isn’t a J.Crew catalog unless you’re a third tier fashion blogger in which case, sorry. No. There are actually only two places to get a proper girly-cut blazer in this day and age and that’s either a post-menopausal women’s retailer or the juniors department of Bloomingdale’s where 12-year-old girls get their moms to buy them one for Yom Kippur services because it feels grown-up and totally not lame until you hit your goth slut phase. Not like I did that.

DOWN THE HALL

Listen, if I knew where to find an exact replica of this jacket I would tell you. You will have to recreate this jacket yourself if, like me, you really want to take the look literally. The flipside to this amazingness is that this ranks as Wendy’s kitschiest overall look, but it still gives that pleasing punch in the gut feeling for one standout reason: no make-up. Don’t get me wrong, I love make-up and trying to give the illusion that I sleep/eat vegetables/don’t smoke, but seriously, tread with caution when it comes to heavy make-up in the face of appearing effortless. I actually consider this a general life rule that just happens to be perfectly exemplified in the styling of Duvall in The Shining. So, heed my words: wearing a shit-ton of make-up completely negates the appearance of nonchalance, sartorial, or otherwise. That’s why Wendy looks fly in her sick jacket and you look like an NYU undergrad from Westchester. Really. This is truly the dividing line. Jesus, WASH YOUR FACE.

SCARED WENDY

If the breakfast outfit is my personal favorite, then this look is the most quintessential of the Wendy character. Boldly bucking the advice no one ever asks for to wear light layers, our girl Wendy goes for broke by piling it all on in flannel and my beloved corduroy. Speaking of corduroy, it took forever to track down a proper corduroy jumper on the internet. This particular item of clothing, I’m told, was practically de rigueur for American women living between the two Gold Coasts throughout the 70s. But look, green gingham flannel to cheer us all up and over a turtleneck, no less. Sure it’s a little batshit, but there remains something strangely grounded about the multiple plush layers, like a hay bale or a Claes Oldenburg food sculpture–yup, I’m educated–something made up of softness but with enough physical mass to appear steady. Like I said, quintessential Wendy.   

 

ALEXANDRA CITRIN

TAGGED: The Shining