Of the many photos from my grandmother's trunk, this is one of my favorites.

My grandmother performed under the name Dorris Miller as a singer/dancer in at least one touring Broadway production. The play was called Blossom Time, written by, I believe, Eddie Cantor. What her role was I do not know. But she travelled extensively, leaving behind a collection of postcards with astonishingly banal notes about the house or the weather. Nary a thought or an opinion on them.

   

The back of this photo says "Fenton Barrett and Jean in cabaret scene" and nothing else. I have looked for Fenton Barrett on the Internet, but have found nearly nothing. I am assuming he is a fellow actor from those touring days, another guy who hoped to make it big but never did. Sure looks like one. And Jean, in her ill-fitting dress, is hard to picture in a cabaret scene. Or any scene. She looks worn and tired; Fenton has the look of a fellow who enjoys an adult beverage and a young girl to share it with. That was a tough way to make a living.

But the picture is incredible. Captures an era, and is a perfect example of my maxim that dressing up contemporary people in old clothes does not create photographs that look old. There is a look, a flavor, an aura that says 1920s. Can't fake that. Can't be done. Today's flappers never would look as tawdry as Jean does here.