"Ala Russe"

Paris Delights Herself with Gorgeous New Russian Shades of Rouge. KRASNY.

A Vogue inspired by the make-up of the Imperial Exiles of the court of Russia

When the Czar and his brilliant court and all the magnificent aristocracy of Russia went down to ruin in the Revolution, those who escaped death became exiles, homeless wanderers on the face of the earth.

Paris took them in--Paris with her flair for novelty and romance, was thrilled to welcome these magnificent women of a vanished dream--with their grand style, their infinite allure, above all their gorgeous color. Over night they were a new vogue!

Color is the Russian note--marvelously struck in the make-up of these splendid infinitely chic mondaines! Like the American women, they have vivid personality, they are not afraid of glowing, heart-arresting effects. Paris, seeing their beautiful and thrilling art of make-up, has responded as Paris always responds--she has made it her own! Krasny!

The New Yorker, May 19, 1927

As always these advertisements for Krasny rouge totally confuse me. Turning traumatic exile into a line of cosmetics seems crass, but I suppose enough time had passed to add a tinge of romance to the exodus, and people probably didn't care much about what the Russians got up to anyway. In 1927 the Soviets were too busy liquidating opposition to even bother with the "world revolution," the only thing bound to make upper-crust New Yorkers sit up and pay attention. All they knew about Paris emigres was what they saw between drinking-binges in the American-style cafes...in other words, nothing. Except maybe the odd translated poem.

I also wonder when the Czar's retinue became "brilliant" and "magnificent," as opposed to inbred, out-of-touch, and selfish? Or maybe this describes the upper-crust readers of The New Yorker as well? It's certainly true that liberal society tended to side more with the revolutionaries than with their rouge-y overseers, but The New Yorker certainly had an aloof, hedonistic snobbiness -- at least from 1925-1927 -- so maybe the readers sympatised more with the aristocrats at the time.

Climax

Google! Horsepucky! Good Night! Krasny! And all the other fake cuss-words that I can't think of right at the moment.

After last week's totally depressing tour-de-trash at Club Abstract, I decided to wear the most obnoxious outfit I could think of, in order to drive the Bad Flotsam crazy tonight; an outfit that would both turn them on and repell them in equal measure. I spent a week searching for the proper accessories. I ate very little food in order to fit into it. I practiced getting in and out of it as fast as possible, in order to forsee potential problems during the night.

I wore The Guitar Wolf, the most "crotchy" outfit I own.

And what happened?

Nobody came. The jerks didn't show up. It was totally dead. And there I was, in my weird crotchy outfit, acting like a prima donna for nobody in particular.

Regardless I don't regret a second.

Smart Paris Gives us Gorgeous New Russian Shades of Rouge

KRASNY

A Vogue Created by the Imperial Exiles of the Czar's Court--The Most Beautiful Make-Up in the World

There is a saying in Paris--"there is nothing in the world as smart as a Russian woman who has chic!" And today the Chic of Russia, the Romanoffs, the Tchermechieffs, the glory of the Czar's Court, are all in Paris. Lending their own note to the world of fashion.

Living in splendor in palaces on the Avenue de Bois de Boulogne, starving in attics by the Porte Maillot--but received everywhere, admired everywhere, sought after for their barbaric beauty, their infinite allure, their grand style!

The New Yorker, September 10, 1927

How wonderful to see that those chic barbarians benefitted from their exiles. Sure a fair number of them were "starving in attics," but still they had the BEST rouge!

Krasny: The New Russian Note in the Rouge of the Modish Parisienne

THE IMPERIAL EXILES OF THE COURT OF THE FALLEN CZAR CAPTIVATE CHIC PARIS WITH THEIR GOREGOUS MAKE-UP--KRASNY

A new vogue--a new fashion in Rouge! Product of the gorgeous color-sense of Russia's banished beauty and the infallible taste in Paris!

It came about in this way. When the aristocracy of Russia, the court of the Czar, the most brilliant society in Europe, fled before the sans culottes of the Revolution, Paris became their hope!

And there the most of them are today, the Russian Coterie, the most glowing color-note in the fashionable life of Paris.

Nothing was more captivating than their gorgeous make-up, their thrilling use of rouge! Glorious shades, mircaulously harmonious with the coloring of these barbaric beauties. Paris, who lives to be conquered by beauty, by chic, of coure made this make-up her own! Krasny!

But nowhere in the world does Krasny belong as in America, with its splendid, fearless, gorgeously healthy women! So we brought Krasny to America for you, and here it is today.

The New Yorker, July 9, 1927

X-Ray Hair Removal

Right now I'm reading "Inventing Modern" by John H. Lienhard. It's a sort of personal, semi-autobiographical overview of the way technological advancements -- steam power, balloon-frame houses, elevators, X-rays, relativity, quantum physics -- brought "modern" into social consciousness in the 20th century.

While tracing the American fixation with everything "modern" during the first half of the century, Lienhard lets drop tidbits about inventions and concepts that flourished but failed, either because they were supplanted by new technologies -- cattle drives, the Pony Express -- or because they turned out to be very, very dangerous.

These stories make me sit up and say "holy cow!" Maybe he didn't intend to write a book of nifty factoids, but I sure am saying "holy cow!" a lot.

Holy Cow...The Tricho!

Apparently everybody was ga-ga about X-rays at the turn of the century, in the same way they would be ga-ga about atomic energy before VJ-Day. These X-rays could SEE THROUGH stuff! A doctor could look at the inside of your body...without opening it up first!

This was a miracle, but people just had no idea how dangerous X-rays were. We sometimes hear about the X-ray machines that children utilized to make sure their shoes fit in shoe stores, but I've never before heard of...THE TRICHO.

We all know that large doses of radiation will make your hair fall out. So why not use it as a method of hair removal? From the '20s to the mid-'40s, women went for multiple sessions at the Tricho machine. They'd sit with their chins up against X-ray emitters and get bombarded with radiation for four minutes at a time.

Their facial hair fell out, of course...but, as one website puts it:

...[it] also eventually resulted in wrinkling, atrophy, white or brown fibrous splotches, keratoses, ulcerations, carcinoma, and death for many clients.

Even after the dangers became known and the government shut down the machines, women continued to go to secret Tricho clinics...it was so effective they didn't seem to care that they'd be disfigured in 3 or 4 years. And what's more, people just loved X-rays because they were so scientific and modern.

That didn't stop them from dying, however. Apprently:

By 1970, one study estimated that over one-third of all radiation-induced cancer in women over a 46-year period could be traced to x-ray hair removal.

What eventually stopped the fad? According to doctors who coined the term "American Hiroshima Maiden Syndrome," women were turned off the Tricho by grotesque images of atom bomb survivors. Suddenly radiation wasn't so harmless anymore. So another science fad bit the dust.

The most comprehensive Tricho page I've found online is at the Museum of Questionable Medical Devices...just in case you want to learn more.