Miniature couture, high style and perfect tailoring. These are the hallmarks of Diana Lemieux and her label, Matilda Pink, she explains her ethos to The Bold Doll.
Both Michael Ben’s Mamzelle de Paris dolls and his inspiration, the original Poupées de Kiraz, have unique proportions unlike any other 11½-inch dolls. Luckily for collectors of these desirable little Parisiennes, Matilda Pink has created a range of ensembles. The talented couturier behind this line, Diana Lemieux, bases her designs on vintage fashions of the 60s and early 70s. The exaggeratedly slender, long-limbed, pouty figures of Les Parisiennes de Kiraz were based on fashionable young women that the political cartoonist and illustrator, Edmond Kiraz saw in Paris at that time. His cartoons were wildly successful, so much so that they were soon syndicated and a range of dolls was created. Here Diana Lemieux tells us about her doll interests have developed and how she works.
I had always been interested in dolls, even after I outgrew the ‘socially accepted’ age for playing with them. My mother was opposed to Barbie (she thought the doll was overly-sexualized and encouraged consumerism … insert eye roll). About 15 years ago, my husband, appreciating the fact that I’m an eight-year-old at heart, started my adult collection with a Gene doll for Mother’s Day. I love Gene – she is the perfect marriage of vintage and fashion in a doll.
A few years later, I read a magazine article about Tiffany Bauer, the Blythe doll clothes designer behind Squeaky Monkey. I was pulled into the cyber space of doll collecting. Getting onto Flickr, I found a community of like-minded collectors from all over the world. Now I collect the dolls that I never got to have as a child as well as new dolls that strike my fancy.
When I was almost five, my family lost everything in a catastrophic tornado. I have a vivid memory of shopping with my mother and four siblings, purchasing the practical necessities like clothing and shoes, to replace what we had lost. As we were leaving the shopping center, we passed the display window of a toy shop and I started crying. My poor, haggard mother demanded, “Who made Diana cry?!” Between sobs, I said, “I lost all my babies!” This is the only time my very practical mother indulged me by turning us around and taking me to the toy store so I could pick out whatever doll I wanted. I agonized over my choice before picking a baby doll dressed in pink ruffles. I named her Betsy (no relation to Betsy Wetsy), and I loved her dearly.
I like designing for dolls like Blythe, Patience, and Ellowyne Wilde, but my heart belongs to vintage 16- to 17-inch dolls, like Crissy, Nancy Famosa, Marie Françoise by Petitcollin, Sasha, Furga’s Alta Moda S Girls, and Corinne by Italo Cremona – just to name a few. The bigger fashion dolls remind me of one of my best childhood memories, when I received a Crissy doll in my Easter basket. My mother had purchased her secondhand, without shoes or a change of clothes. I have a golden memory of sewing a wardrobe for Crissy with my mom, using a Simplicity pattern we found at our library’s pattern exchange. My mother worked full-time, so this was my only childhood memory of sitting at a sewing machine with her.
I buy what ‘speaks’ to me. That might be a Bleuette reproduction (only one) or a Japanese Kamar Tanya. I look for a doll that seems to say, “Dress me!” That allows me to interpret the doll the way I think it should be presented. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of dolls today come beautifully dressed. I probably won’t buy them. I’ll find the challenge, the new doll that comes in her underclothes or the vintage doll that is a complete wreck.
I have fresh-out-of-the-box new dolls displayed next to freshly-restored vintage girls. You’ll also find estate sale or eBay vintage finds being de-funkified in my laundry room that doubles as the dolly spa. Only once the decades of neglect have been washed away can they join the girls upstairs in the studio. I realize I sound like a madame talking about her ‘girls’, but it’s a pretty elite club. Everyone has to smell nice.
I think my most valuable dolls are from my Blythe collection. I have an original Kenner, and a varied collection of Takaras that I’ve been whittling down over the last couple of years. I’m an avid online doll buyer, but what gets me out of bed at 6am on a Saturday morning is the dream of finding that vintage Blythe resting at the bottom of a 25-cent box at a garage sale. Hasn’t happened yet, but I have found some amazing pieces. It’s the thrill of the hunt – I am Diana the Huntress after all!
I had been sewing custom wedding gowns and bridesmaid dresses for several years. For my daughter’s 7th birthday party, I dressed a dozen 18-inch dolls which were the party gifts for each of the little girls attending the party. (I have to let you know that these were new – I didn’t give the girls old dolls!) The dolls were a huge hit. I made a little collection of 18-inch doll clothes which I sold at a craft fair at my daughter’s school. They sold out. I stopped my bridal sewing and focused on doll clothes. I’ve never looked back. That was almost 20 years ago.
Sources of inspiration and reference are magazines, patterns, and clothing catalogs from the sixties and early seventies. I collect vintage pattern counter catalogs (those gigantic pattern books from the fabric stores). I love old Japanese dressmaking magazines as well as German and French ones. Also, old paper dolls. I enjoy the internet – places like Flickr, blogs, etc. But I love magazines. Nothing can replace the feel of a glossy magazine in your hands.
Sewing for dolls often means facing the reality that you can’t make everything miniature. Yes, I can line a little tweed coat with a notched collar and cuffs, but it might be impossibly bulky on a Mamzelle de Paris doll. It won’t lay the way that I want it to, it probably won’t drape the way I see it in my mind. So sewing tiny clothes is often about compromise. What is the most important element I need to convey? That’s what has to be done right. Sometimes you have to sacrifice little things to make the essentials come out well. I might make a dress three or four times before I’m satisfied with it. When everything is in harmony – the design, the materials, the fit – that’s what I enjoy most.
Some of my favorite designers are, Chanel, Yves Saint Laurent, Dior, Pierre Cardin, Courrèges, Balenciaga, Patou … just to name a few. I was a teen in the eighties, but my heart was always in the sixties. I loved mid-century modern when it wasn’t cool. For me, it was always about pure colors and clean design.
When you’re making something, working on it for hours, sometimes you lose your objectivity. You have to step away, look at something else for a while, and then come back to it to decide if it’s good or not. It’s true with art, it’s true with writing, it’s true with any creative pursuit. Making doll clothes is no different. I promise you, I’m my greatest critic. That can be crushingly destructive. I’m a list maker. I work from home, so it’s all about creating a work schedule for myself each morning. Last year I had some pretty difficult family demands, so I only just feel as though I’m getting back into a productive groove again.
Matilda Pink was named after my grandmother. When I was very young she sat me down with a doll. She made me study its hands and pointed out the faint ridge that the mold had left behind on the doll’s arms, legs, and bodies during production. “This is a cheap doll, Diana. A good doll wouldn’t have ridges left from the mold.” She told me that every doll starts out as a sculpture created by an artist. So that’s one of the best things about dolls I think. They can be beautifully crafted pieces of art.
Currently I’m working on items for my shop: clothes for Patience and Blythe are coming up soon. I want to make patterns available for doll collectors to make their own doll clothes. Drafting patterns isn’t too difficult, but making directions for them so that they make sense to other people….well, that’s a challenge.
You can see more of Diana’s work at matildapink.com and matildapink.etsy.com
This feature first appeared in Fashion Doll Quarterly magazine, Spring 2016
Check out this mini-documentary on the work of Edmond Kiraz and the creation of these quirky fashion dolls.