Festival (Woodstock) Dress + Double Recap of 'Mad Men' (S7E3 & S7E4)

(Note: This is a recap for the 2nd episode of Season 7 of 'Mad Men', originally published for Vintage Fashion at Examiner.com.)

THE LOOK ~ This dress is an up-cycled sari, redesigned to be a lady-like 'hippie' festival frock. Dark blue and floral, the dress fits particularly well with S7E4 –– since Marigold and friends could conveniently (being well within proximity) attend Woodstock, arguably the most influential music festival in our collective history. The gang of hippies will likely want to keep their one (debated) vehicle on the premises, after all.

THE ANECDOTE ~ Not long before I'd meet my now husband, in 2003, I dated someone who tried to provoke me by saying he believed the legacy of Woodstock is a fabrication. In a conversation once (after I raved about how The Zombies' song 'Hung Up On a Dream' is touchingly indicative of how people were feeling about the 'peace and love' movement as it was transitioning) he insisted that the concert event that got countless young people to travel, in whatever manner possible, to one locale to experience music and freedom en masse was not 'as big a deal' in its own time as it's been made to be in retrospect. This person simply liked to push people's buttons. Who has time or energy for button-pushers? Lucky for me, I met 'the right one' immediately following that one.

THE RECAP(S) ~ S7E3 starts with Don at the movies (smoking and watching 'Model Shop') and ends with Jimi Hendrix's 'If 6 Was 9'.  It also ends with a punch to the gut (for some viewers) after seeing Don get a relentless whooping from his partners.

In S7E3, both Megan and Don are struggling with not easily getting what they want. They've both experienced enough success in their respective careers to feel worried when their talents are not immediately sought after. Don flies to LA to surprise Megan –– and try and console her and advise her to be more patient (at her agent's request.) 

There is a deep level of understanding and love between them, but while Megan is raw from a sense of struggle, her angry reaction to Don's confession about his job is heightened. The normally easy-going Megan might have been irritated, but she would've managed to brush it off. This frustrated version of Megan has a fit and tells Don to go home. She practically asks for a divorce, even. (But not quite.)

We also see Betty and Bobby spend the day together on his school field trip. In cheerfully agreeing to attend the trip, Betty has set out to prove to herself she loves handling her duties as a mother. Bobby beams with pride and joy in her presence. As usual, Bobby is such a painfully sweet child –– he's both heartwarming and heartbreaking to watch. But much like what is about to happen in his father's world, to some extent, the person whose acceptance he values so deeply turns cold to Bobby after he makes one mistake during the picnic. Bobby is terribly sorry for giving away Betty's sandwich to a classmate. He loves his mother and desperately wants to be close to her. But Betty holds a grudge against him for the rest of the day –– and even hours later, she mentions what he did. Poor Bobby. He even tells Henry he wishes it was yesterday. He wishes he could start the day over with his beloved mother, mistake-free.

When Don returns to New York, he sensibly shops and considers a move to another agency. But just as he's refused the advances of the flight attendant on the way to LA –– and that of a woman who stops by his table during dinner with his potential new colleagues –– he refuses the chance to work at a different agency. He'd rather patch things up with Megan, and with SC&P. In many ways, Don is proving himself a new man, but he wants to return to what he's known. When he gets the official offer to switch agencies, Don takes it over to Roger and tells him he'd prefer returning to the agency he helped create. Roger agrees –– and what ensues is painful to watch.

Don's return to the office the next day turns into one of the most chilling occurrences of the series. Chilling mainly because his colleagues (especially his partners) are so incredibly cold to him. A few are notably compassionate and warm: Ken Cosgrove is very welcoming to Don, and even speaks to him with reverence by telling him that going to the carousel with his kids reminded him of Don, in reference to his game-changing pitch in the first season. Ginsberg is also happy to see Don and immediately invites him to help out with their current pitch.

Don feels eager to roll up his sleeves and get to work, and cheerfully makes small talk. And he waits. He waits for a dreadfully long time. He sits there like a bull in a china shop. When the moment of truth finally comes, the partners sit with Don and treat him like a troubled child by listing off the stipulations for his return. These rules made me uncomfortable to hear or even imagine for Don –– I found myself hoping he'd refuse.

But surprisingly, Don agreed. My next hope with this decision was that Don actually feels so confident and ready to work, he doesn't care what challenges are presented to him. He believes he can handle anything –– even this terribly cold behavior from people he expected to be happy to see him.

Maybe he's so at peace with himself that, as Jimi says: "If the sun refused to shine, I don't mind, I don't mind."

* * * * * *

~ S7E4 begins with Pete and Bonnie having dinner and chatting about planning a getaway –– possibly to Palm Springs. (Coincidentally, the photos accompanying this piece were taken this past week in Palm Springs, during our own little getaway.) An interruption (George, who previously worked for Vicks) leads to a possible new account with Burger Chef. Pete also discovers during the conversation that his father-in-law has suffered a stroke.

Don's first official day back that office begins awkwardly due to lack of communication. The entire office had gathered upstairs for a big announcement that a gigantic computer will be soon be joining them. Roger wants a drink, Ginsberg wants the couch, and Don just wants to know what's going on. Sadly, this lack of communication continues throughout the episode to a distressing degree. 

The partners gather to discuss Burger Chef without inviting Don, who is now very much present in the office. We viewers were privy to the tough stipulations of Don's return, none of which were that he's not to be invited to partner meetings. Don is mentioned in the meeting as Roger champions for their in-house 'creative genius' to take over the Burger Chef account. Cutler agrees, and that seems to be that. Until Lou (feeling competitive with Don) decides on his own to hand the account to Peggy and to offer her a raise. This seems highly inappropriate, but no one is communicating with Don. The first Don hears about Burger Chef is when Peggy –– awfully smug Peggy –– informs Don he is to work on the account with her as the lead. But Don is a partner, still –– and as Harry points out to the computer guy, Don is also one of three creative directors.

Don and the computer guy get chummy. They talk about the stars and the moon in relation to how humans are dealing with sharing their lives with these giant computers. Don realizes this guy could be a great new account for them. With Roger absent from the office (more on that soon, of course) Don shares his excitement about this idea with Bertram Cooper. Cooper's reaction is so cruel, I won't even  revisit it here in this recap –– but as a viewer, I remain heartbroken over how Don (a person who's clearly trying, being vulnerable, and excited to begin anew) is being treated by his colleagues. He is not simply their equal; in many ways, he deserves reverence for all he's admitted, and endured. Aren't creatives allowed to be somewhat eccentric, after all? Here's a creative who's also a founding partner of the agency. It's without a doubt disgraceful the way they're behaving towards Don. But I digress.

Roger, meanwhile, has gone on a road trip with his ex-wife in an attempt bring their daughter Margaret, now Marigold, to her senses. Marigold left her four-year-old son and husband to live in the classic 'dirty hippie' sense within a commune of new friends. This storyline is far more interesting than it seems on the surface –– in that it represents how confusing this era was for all kinds of young people. Margaret and her husband married in the mid-1960's (viewers: you may recall that President Kennedy was shot on the day of her wedding; Pete and Trudy were too distressed to attend; etc.) And as her mother indicates to Roger, maybe their daughter could have married better. We know that Margaret has asked Roger for help countless times since her marriage. Roger's son-in-law has needed assistance in his attempt to fulfill expectations.

Expectations for upper crust, higher society youths had to have been confusing when their values were being questioned in the midst of young marriage. Margaret has had to worry about her husband's career, and their welfare, but she was not raised to know how to handle anything but frivolity. It all became too much for her at some point, and we've witnessed her slow descent; so when an opportunity presented itself for her to escape what has become a confusing life, via a new way of thinking, she was vulnerable and took the risk. So Margaret's becoming Marigold and living in a commune (heartbreaking, in that she is refusing to take responsibility for her innocent, young child) is not even surprising. In fact, one can easily argue that it's Roger's own fault she ended up there. She had reached out for his help repeatedly, and he refused her every time. But this is also a great look into how the 1960's affected youth who came from money to want to reject everything and escape into a life of simplicity –- particularly those who felt vulnerable and confused, like Margaret.

One also has to wonder how Don's workday might have gone if Roger, his one supportive partner, had been around the office. After Don secretly succumbs to having a few drinks to deal with what has been a hellish day, he calls the one person he's come to trust: Freddy Rumsen. Don then redirects and spews his anger and frustration towards the bewildered computer guy. Don is a guy who needs friendship and understanding at the moment, more than anything, and no one has been caring enough. No one except Freddy, who advises him to get back in there, roll up his sleeves and prove himself by doing the exceptional work for which he's known.

This is exactly what I hoped would happen when Don bravely returned to the agency he helped to create –– head down, delivering the goods, with a new 'bring it' attitude. With nothing to hide now, the partners would be wise to try and see what new level of genius can come forth from this raw individual. It was deeply satisfying to see him resolve to do just this at the end of S7E4. The Hollies' 'On A Carousel' begins to play to close this episode out –– the 'carousel' having been referenced twice now this season. We know it has come to represent not only to Don's game-changing pitch, but also his life. And with that, Don is officially back at work. Cruel partners and competitive attitudes be damned.

'Spruced-Up Protester Look' & Recap of 'Mad Men' S7E2

(Note: This is a recap for the 2nd episode of Season 7 of 'Mad Men', originally published for Vintage Fashion at Examiner.com.)

THE LOOK ~ While we have yet to see very much about the Vietnam War –– or its protesters –– on 'Mad Men' so far, there have been references and plot lines connected with the war and the draft, and we saw Nixon taking office via Don's TV in S7E1. I expect a great deal more on the topic to come in the final season, and refer to this look (pictured) as the 'spruced-up protester look' (or what someone like Megan Draper might wear, were she to go out and protest the Vietnam War.) The vintage empire waist top is circa 1969-1970. The top features lace sleeves and delicate flower motif on its ribboning. The black bell-bottom pants are made of velveteen. And the vintage black boots are circa 1967. The look is both feminine and functional. And it's fine to walk in for hours on end.

THE ANECDOTE ~ When I was too young to know there was a word for it, I believed in reincarnation. Certain incidents point to it (and there has never been a better explanation.) When I went with my family to see 'Born on the 4th of July' in the theater, I started crying throughout, during random scenes not meant to be sad –– especially to a kid; scenes of protesters felt like memories, they triggered an intense reaction. I was crying so hard that I couldn't breathe and had to be taken out of the theater for a while. Other suggestive incidents in my youth, during high school, college, and even after college, sealed the notion. I felt a deep connection with the Vietnam War –– but particularly with its American protesters. Either I was an American soldier who desperately wanted to return, or someone killed during protest (perhaps even one of the four students who died at Kent State.)

THE RECAP ~ The second episode of Season 7 takes place on Valentine's Day and begins with Don's out-of-office life. It's very touching to see him dress up in his usual work suit for what seems to be a meeting –– when it's actually just to welcome Dawn, who is covertly delivering him information.

 

Speaking of Dawn, there's a great deal in S7E2 about race relations in the SCP office. Dawn and Shirley greet one another in the break room bemusedly with the other one's name. 'Hello Dawn.' And: 'Hello Shirley.' This says so much, and so simply. The oddest behavior in this episode belongs to Peggy, who is both irrational and unprofessional all day: she immediately assumes the flowers on Shirley's desk are hers, and takes them to her office; next, she assumes the flowers are from Ted, then calls and leaves a cryptic, confusing message for him; finally, upon listening to Shirley that the flowers are in fact from Shirley's fiance, Peggy has a fit, and demands (to Joan) that Shirley be removed from her post.

Meanwhile, Joan expertly shuffles the gals around the office (Dawn had also be forced to leave her desk) and moves upstairs to her own account executive office. Good thing Jim Cutler has his moments of clarity to simply offer her this deserved transition. Dawn's bad day results in her getting Joan's previous role, which is a huge coup for her –– and for Joan, having shown progressive wisdom in this decision. Equally progressive Pete feels ignored in LA.

But this episode really belongs to Don and Sally, who slowly rekindle their father-daughter relationship over the course of a short road trip. The result is beautiful and a real tearjerker. When Don drops Sally off at school, she gets out of the car, turns and says, 'Happy Valentine's Day. I love you.' 

 

And the Zombies' 'This Will Be Our Year' (from their wonderful Odessey & Oracle album) begins to play: 'The warmth of your love, is like the warmth of the sun, and this will be our year, took a long time to come.'

Dressed Up to Watch TV: 'Mad Men' S7E1 –– Psychedelic Neon Gown + Review

THE LOOK ~ Back in the day, people dressed up to board a plane or go to the cinema. These days, I spend a great deal of time watching TV at home. Why not dress up in my late 1960's-era garb to watch the show that turned me back on to TV? For this final (split) season of 'Mad Men', I will. And for the season premiere, I went for a full-on color celebration by donning a neon psychedelic Lanz gown (from Electric Ladyland.)

THE ANECDOTE ~ As someone who spent her formidable years, plus a couple more decades, deeply immersed in the gritty, progressive, kaleidoscopic world of the 1960's, particularly enamored with the latter part, one would say I've been dedicated. If dedication is work, I've earned a celebration. For most of the 2000's, I did not even own a TV; I was thoroughly entertained via films, shows and music that have existed for decades in our collective archives.

In 2007, a TV show depicting the very era that had been my 'personal culture' came along. Now is the beginning of the end of that series –– one that, fortunately, (thanks in large part to the dedication of Matthew Weiner) has never missed a beat or disappointed this disciple of mid-to-late 1960's culture.

THE REVIEW ~ In S7E1, it's January 1969. The story picks up shortly after last season's events. The first face on screen is surprisingly Freddie Rumsen's, giving a terrific pitch –– another surprise –– although we discover later he is Don's proxy. So those first moments are actually Don Draper delivering stellar work despite being so coldly (and cruelly, IMO) shut out by SC&P, formerly SCDP.

Making plot predictions can be enticing, especially with the often non-subtle hints on 'Mad Men', but let's just watch and see what happens to these characters in this final season. Yes, as predicted: darkness looms heavy in the canyons, where Megan now resides –– very near, in time and place, to where Sharon Tate meets her doom.

Don remains smitten with his wife, despite whatever marital problems they've had and their current bi-coastal situation. That point is driven home in this episode by Spencer Davis Group in the (now famous) airport pickup scene: 'I'm a man, yes I am, and I can't help but love you so!' (See below. I had originally planned to include Traffic's 'Dear Mr. Fantasy' for this piece.)

The unexpected bits in the premiere are what I particularly enjoyed, like the protective conversation Weiner seemed to be having with his bullying audience members on the very topic of Megan (and the beautiful actress who plays her, Jessica Pare.) Megan has been a strong contributing character since Season 4 –– or since 1965. It's been difficult to avoid noticing the pointedly angry and cruel remarks certain viewers have made about her during this time.

The writers of the show have made it plain, time and again, that Megan Draper is to be loved. Don loves Megan (in his way; and at times, even obsessively.) Megan was never just 'going away'. She has been integral to many of the transitions that have occurred during that progressive era.

Included in the script for S7E1 were inside jabs directed at Megan-haters during the dinner scene, when her agent announces that she got her first Hollywood callback. 'I thought the guy hated me!?' She exclaims. 'But his boss loved you,' he says. (Megan-hate-viewers vs. Matthew Weiner, right there.) He adds: 'I'll say one thing about this girl. She evokes strong feelings.' And I have to hand it to Jessica Pare –– she has seemed to keep herself, (and her confidence), well in tact, despite the bullies. Megan's agent says next: 'We can hold off on fixing your teeth.' To this, Megan gives a sad and very professional nod: 'Okay.' Proving yet again that while Hollywood can be cruel, today's online bullies are just as bad. It might have seemed odd to bring this level of reality into the show, but I delighted in this decision on the part of the writers.

We also caught up with what's happening in the lives of Pete (he's tan and happier in L.A.), Joan (the unlikely partner has become a rather gutsy businesswoman) Peggy (misses both Don and Ted), Roger (so hip, it hurts; still acts like a square with his daughter), Stan (such a cool cat), Ted (bi-coastal Mr. Professional.)

Meanwhile, TV itself even played a large role in the Season 7 premiere. Don watches a lot of it, with too much time on his hands out of the office. He gifts Megan with a very large TV set, to her dismay. I enjoyed celebrating the return of 'Mad Men' this way –– so I'll be dressing up to watch TV, again, when S7E2 airs next Sunday.

(Originally posted for Vintage Fashion at Examiner.com.)