Yesterday, self sat in Theater 12 of the Redwood City Century 20 (along with about 50 other people – all women), being enthralled by the latest film adaptation of “Jane Eyre.”
She’s sure other people (clothesonfilm, for one) will go to town over the costumes.
But here are a few things self noticed:
Mia Wasikowska’s waist – In her tight dresses, the waist looked absolutely tiny. Wearing that kind of costume almost invites one to rest one’s hands on the skirt or to stand with one hand resting on the waist. Splendid! A built-in ledge, follows a woman wherever she goes. And, moreover, makes Jane look powerful (Why should having a tiny waist make a woman look powerful? Self knows not the answer to this question. She only knows that this is the effect that Wasikowska’s wasp waist had on her)
The thing that had self go absolutely gaga, however, was the gold filigree bonnet worn by Jane Eyre in the last scene. The movie afforded many close-ups of this bonnet. It was like a halo – and in fact, many shots of Jane Eyre were from below, reinforcing this impression.
The thing itself was a completely frivolous piece of headgear. No way would it afford any protection from the sun or wind, for it was a structure of latticed strands. But it was gorgeous. Whenever the camera followed Jane from the back, there was nothing else self could look at but this wonderful bonnet.
Oh, wait! There was something else self looked at: the dress Jane Eyre was wearing. If self’s memory serves her correctly, the dress was a pale earth-toned pink, and had a print, a tiny print. What made the outfit memorable, at least to self, was the fact that the shawl Jane draped so artfully around herself was also a print. Not the same print as the dress, of course (Otherwise, Jane might have looked like a society matron wearing matching everything, and we all know she is far too simple and down-to-earth for that!) Did women of the Jane Eyre era (She forgets what era that is, and will not expose herself to ridicule by saying 17th century because it might be the 18th century. And she won’t say 18th century because it might be the 17th century. And, well, you get the drift) really go around in printed everything, nothing matching? It totally works! Self loves it. Bring on the tiny contrasting prints!
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
