The Roaring Twenties | Nonfiction Prose & Poetry
Murrelle’s Apparel D’Allure
GiaB prompt #8 Apparel
Her name is Murrelle D’Allure. Pronounced muh-rell duh-lur. That’s what I call her anyway. It sounds plus de français, plus romantique. Her real name is Murrel Finley although she often went by the nom ordinaire, Muriel Finlay. She’s not French at all. She was born in Idaho. She’s one of Alfred’s girls. Alfred being Alfred Cheney Johnston, the New York-based fashion and follies photographer of The Roaring Twenties and thirties, who took this magnifique photographie circa 1928. To be perfectly correct, before she was Alfred’s, Ms D’Allure was a Florenz Ziegfeld showgirl of Broadway’s Ziegfeld Follies fame. As a side note, Ziegfeld’s inspiration for his extravagant revues came from the oh-la-la cabaret shows at the Folies Bergère in Paris — so there’s ma connexion française. Merci beaucoup.
Enough of Murrel. After all this is about apparel, not her. You could, however, be forgiven for having trouble separating the two. As in, what would one be without the other? Something significantly less, I suspect. A case of one plus one not equaling two.
And while we’re talking forgiveness, please understand that my intention is not to offend those who have proclivities and sensitivities of the nouvea féministe variety but simply to be in awe of the artistry that is female form, exotic fabrics, and masterful photography, and a time in history when joie de vie was paramount. If forgiveness is to be served, it is for the sad failings of my words to do justice to what could in all fairness be called perfection. I will, most assuredly, do my best and you be the judge of how far I fall below the bar.
Murrelle’s Apparel D’Allure
A free verse poem
Sensual allure Murrelle’s curvaceous womanly body draped in barely-there translucence shimmering embellishments lace-trimmed sateen a plunging garland of pearls Extravagant, erotic, arousing like a nymph from a wet dream so carelessly carefree a siren of the times proud womanhood frocked more or less permission granted to flaunt God-given treasures and revel in excesses en masse Life not taken seriously but one to enjoy a consequence of a world nearly broken by war It was The Roaring Twenties the age of the flapper the bob and the toff très chic, débonnaire “Show us some leg” The world was their oyster the sky was the limit they danced till they dropped and the champers spilled over from dusk until dawn glass ceilings were smashed social life on steroids and all free for the taking Pour ma belle chère Murrelle, it was a gold star for Venus a green light from the Moon an invitation from Jay Gatsby and every Tom, Dick and Harry except for the Pa Kettles for whom the mere hint of pert breasts a smooth derrière and a shapely lithe thigh made the hicks up and swoon It’s amazing the effect that a silk negligée with a long trailing train like a mermaid’s fishtail has on the senses the imagination and desires Alfred Cheney Johnston sure understood what it took to tantalize and seduce for he was the one to select, style and arrange the exquisite finery that was Murrel Finley ma Murrelle D’Allure
© Carolyn Hastings 2020
This piece was written in response to GiaB’s writing prompt #8 — Apparel. You can find out more about the prompt and the guidelines, at this link.
I would like to invite some of my fellow writers to contribute to the prompt, time and inclination permitting — Donna L Roberts, PhD (Psych Pstuff), Imad, Patrick M. Ohana, Megan Nicole Morgan, Jenine Bsharah Baines and Melissa Speed.