Paris, 1925. The gargoyles on Notre-Dame twitch when the convent bells of Saint-Cecilia’s Academy strike twelve, because that is the hour when starched pinafores slide to the parquet and the corridors bloom into speakeasy jazz. School for Skirts arrives like a switchblade tucked inside a white kid glove, slicing the c...
Comparing the cinematic DNA and archive impact of two defining moments in cult history.
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" Paris, 1925. The gargoyles on Notre-Dame twitch when the convent bells of Saint-Cecilia’s Academy strike twelve, because that is the hour when starched pinafores slide to the parquet and the corridors bloom into speakeasy jazz. School for Skirts arrives like a switchblade tucked inside a white kid glove, slicing the corseted respectability that Life’s Shop Window once sold to gullible matrons. Tom Bret’s screenplay—equal parts lubricated epigram and anarchist pamphlet—understands that every fin..."
