This past week’s installment of Mad Men introduced a few stunning changes. With the introduction of Dawn (SCDP’s first black employee), the hiring of the scrappy Michael Ginsberg, and the absolutely shocking revelation of Betty’s new look, “Tea Leaves” declared, emphatically, that the Mad Men universe that we once knew is gone for good. The recurring echoes of the 50’s that pervaded previous seasons, from the decor to the dialogue to the dress, have faded and given way to the thrumming change of the 60’s. Nowhere is this more evident than the ways in which the characters are outfitted.
The episode opens up with the moment that was distinctly missing in last week’s installment: the reintroduction of Betty Francis nee`
Draper nee` Hofstadt. The sight of the Betty we know and love (well, the Betty we have complicated feelings about, anyway) struggling unsuccessfully to pack herself into that shiny, paisley, purple monstrosity of a dress was absolutely gasp-worthy. This is the woman whose relationship with her own mother revolved almost entirely on appearance and weight. The woman who remembered the phrase “You’re going to get stout” above anything else her mother
ever told her. The Betty who pranced around her sparkling modern home in kicky little outfits— spouting cruelty and charm in equal measure—is no longer. She now sits in the dark luxuriousness of her ancient mansion (that house is an honest-to-blog castle, although its deep woods and high ceilings are not very cheery), eating junk food in her enormous pink housecoat. We are deliberately reminded of her long days at home in tattered maternity clothes, makeup-less and sad. Now, however, she has a devoted and supportive husband. When she receives the good news that the lump on her neck is benign and says, darkly, “Now we know I’m just fat,” it becomes clearer than ever that Betty is a woman who can not be happy with anything. As we watch her eat her daughter’s pudding in one of the uglier dresses we’ve ever seen on the show (ball fringe on the cuffs, cringe), it’s striking how different she is now.
Much of the rest of the episode’s styles serve as contrast to Betty’s physical changes. Immediately after the aforementioned dress-zipping scene, we see the new Mrs. Donald Draper zipping into her own dress with no trouble at all. What a dress it is—all swirling patterns, pleats, and bell sleeves. Megan’s heavy eye makeup, big hair, and gold jewelry are all very cutting edge, as are all of her outfits on the show. She is often shown in sunny colors and white, with ample exposed skin and fun silhouettes. She is easily the most stylish and daring of any character on the show. When she corrects an out-of-touch client that the title to a Rolling Stones song is “Time is on My Side,” the client simply responds, “Yes, it is, dear.” Her personality is equally distinct—who else could convince Don Draper to forget his bad mood and go to Fire Island? Megan may still be a mystery, but she is definitely unique.
This episode also introduced an element of the 60’s that can not be ignored: teenagers! The explosion of youth and youth culture has begun to display itself even within the world of SCDP as Don and Harry wade through a sea of hip young kids at a Rolling Stones concert, smoking joints and singing the praises of Mick and Keith. These are not the shirtless hippies of Woodstock (yet), but they bear artsy sensibilities and a distinct sense of rebellion. Don says squarely to one lime green miniskirt-wearing youngster that his generation is “worried” about hers. She promptly flees to jump onto her favorite rock star, screaming with excitement. This scene exemplified, definitively, the generational differences between Don’s generation and the baby boomers to come.
Perhaps the most intriguing development, however, came with the introduction of Michael Ginsberg—a hot shot new copywriter who is
in many ways similar to Peggy. He’s talented, strange, and comes from a traditional background. His work is provocative and smart, but he is ill at ease with his talent. We are, in almost every way, reminded of Peggy’s entrance into Sterling Cooper all those years ago. From the echoes of similar colors peppered through their outfits (note the red, white, and green in both of their ensembles), to Michael’s apartment at the end, which directly recalls Peggy’s mother’s apartment. They are equals in intellect and social status, a fact that puts them in personal and professional competition with one another. Could this be a potential Don/Peggy sort of relationship, nonsexual and built on mutual respect and trust? A bitter rivalry? Or could it be a budding romance? Only time will tell.
