Those who follow my Twitter feed (@Fashionhistoria) will know that I’ve been spending a good deal of time in the newspapers and manuscripts division of the UC Berkeley Library looking through historical volumes of Women’s Wear Daily (WWD). I’ve been slowly making my way through 10 volumes covering the first six months of 1927, and the first six months of 1929 (don’t ask me why, but that’s all Harvard and Northwestern sent from my Interlibrary Loan Request). It is my intention to go through all the volumes from 1927-1933.
Turning the pages of these large leather-bound books is a long, but interesting process. WWD was and is, as the name implies, a daily publication. Looking through a single month can take me many days (each day has between 40-60 pages of very small print). That said, some of the things I’ve found are rather enthralling. I’ve been posting some of what I’ve found via Twitpic (click for examples), but here are some goodies I’ve been saving for WT, perhaps they’ll inspire one of you to research and write a paper on one of these topics.
(A coat by Bechoff, with Pahmi Fur trim, WWD, February 28, 1929).
WWD delves into an amazing number of details and facets associated with the fashion business. It also looks for and analyzes trends in many of the same places that fashion journalists and writers look for them today – on the street, at the theatre (both on stage, and in the audience), in films, at the beach (especially during winter months), and in museum fashion exhibits. In these articles, now primary source material for researchers, writers looked well beyond New York and Paris, reporting on doings and trends (from marketing strategies to popular sale items) in virtually every region of the US. Until this project, I had no idea Portland, Oregon was such an important center for fashion in 1929.
(WWD May 21, 1929, “Plus Fours Adopted for British Film Depicting Life in 1950″)
Illustrations are, of course, a key element of the historic importance of these volumes – especially the ads. The publication is entirely black and white, but both photographs and illustrations are used to depict everything from stage costumes, to sportswear to millinery, shoes, cottons, silks and rayons.
(Ad for Ted Kraisler Dresses, WWD, March 5, 1929)
A brief survey of these volumes illuminates just how connected the theater was to fashion trends and aesthetics: I did not know that so many couturier’s designed for the theater (both in New York, and in Paris). Martial et Armand, Lanvin, Patou, Poiret, Hattie Carnegie and many others regularly designed theatrical costumes (though they were generally not constructed by their own workshops). This brief, but obvious note makes me all the more curious about the recent publication, When Broadway Was the Runway: Theater, Fashion, and American Culture.
Some pretty outlandish things were worn for benefits, including this example by The Brooks Costume Co. for a benefit held at Madison Square Garden on May 3, 1929. (clicking on the photo to enlarge it is well worth it). The surrealism just blows me away. (For more on surrealism in theater of this era, take a look at Peter Nicholls’s article “Anti-Oedipus? Dada and Surrealist Theatre, 1916–35″ published in New Theatre Quarterly (1991), 7:331-347 Cambridge University Press.)
Ethel Barrymore’s prominence in the theatrical world was also nothing short of a sensation in the mid to late 20s. Article after article tracks her performances, her new productions and even her costumes. In 1949, Aline Bernstein included an earlier example of a Barrymore costume in an exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, “Behind American Footlights“(via The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, Vol. 7, No. 7 (Mar., 1949), pp. 199-204).
(Front Page, WWD, April 16, 1929, for a production of The Love Thief)
and aviation, it seems, was becoming more and more popular with women. Both ads and news pieces featured important style developments for a new garment type, the aviator suit. Many of the trend reports included pictures of Amelia Earhart and other lesser-known ‘flyers’, as well as photos or illustrations of the fashionable attire seen at popular air shows. (For more on this phenomenon see the essay by Karla Jay “No Bumps, No Excrescences: Amelia Earhart’s Failed Flight into Fashions” published in On Fashion, eds Benstock and Ferriss, 1994).
(Front page, WWD, “Paris Develops an Alluring Chic in Costumes for the Aviatrix” April 30, 1929)
All that is to say – if you looking for a topic to research Women’s Wear Daily will lead you in more directions than you can possibly need. Those in New York can find copies at the NYPL, and many other libraries in the country have different sections of its print run available for study.
Kelly, Katie. The Wonderful World of Women’s Wear Daily. New York: Saturday Review Publications, 1972.
Lessing, Alice and Ermina Stimson. Sixty Years of Fashion: 1900-1960, The Evolution of Women’s Styles in America. New York: Fairchild Publications, 1963.
Women’s Wear Daily. WWD Century : One Hundred Years of Fashion. New York: Fairchild Books & Visuals, 1998.
Women’s Wear Daily. The Changing American Woman : 200 Years of American Fashion. New York: Fairchild Publications, 1976.
*Directorie and Empire Fashions to Appear This Evening at Annual Beaux Arts Ball” WWD, January 25, 1929.
Dorian Gray in Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray
Holly Golightly in Truman Capote’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Orlando in Virginia Woolf’s Orlando
Scarlett O’Harain Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind
Jay Gatsby in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby
Dorian Gray in Gustave Flaubert’s The Picture of Dorian Gray
Rupert Psmith in the novels of P.G. Wodehouse
Lady Brett Ashley in Ernest Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises
Darling Daintyfoot in Jean Genet’s Our Lady of the Flowers
A wonderful property of literature and other art forms is that textiles — fragile under the best of circumstances — may be preserved in alternate mediums. Greek, Roman, and Ancient Egyptian statues may be studied for information on what people wore in eras almost impossible to find fragmented remains of clothes, much less full ensembles, as can paintings and literature. Though literature removes the visual aspect of fashion, it can supplement readers with information not gleaned from sculptures and pictures: how fabric moved; how heavy and cumbersome (or light and airy) it was; what necessary undergarments created the ultimate silhouettes. Most valuable, perhaps, is that literature is able to synthesize the mise en scène of a particular country, era, class, time of day, and personal circumstance, explicitly emphasizing the relationship of fashion with these other variables. Though not impossible, conveying this complex set of relationships is more challenging in fine arts, where the visual language may be forced to reduce information to simplified symbols, to be absorbed and interpreted by a viewer in a moment.
Within a written narrative, an author has space to develop characters and settings: personality, gender roles (how constrictive / seductive women’s gowns were communicates volumes), class (fabrics vary according to a person’s wealth), aspirations (class deception is commonly exploited with the use of clothes), sexual preference (homosexuals are often marked as such by a flamboyance of appearance that’s slightly out of step with current fashion)…. Though fashion historians often concentrate on the nitty-gritty details of garment descriptions — which is absolutely valuable — this information should contribute to the overall character development and plot structure of a novel as well. In the hands of a competent writer, dress details will not distract a non-fashion reader, but only add depth to what is already taking place.
The course of events in Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind, for example — war, displacement, poverty, the helpless role of women — lead directly and naturally to the memorable scene where Scarlett converts her destroyed mansion’s drapes into a fashionable dress and hat with which to impress and seduce Rhett Butler (thereby securing new wealth). (The dress from the original film, by the way, is in dire need of restoring.)
Scarlett O'Hara in drape dress, Gone with the Wind
This dress has become so iconic that costume designer Bob Mackie specifically spoofed it, within Carol Burnett’s 1976 general farce “Went with the Wind” (which I strongly encourage you to watch in its entirety):
Carol Burnett Show, Went with the Wind
As I hope you can see, Mackie left the curtain rod in, used drape ties with tassels for a belt, and left the contrasting fringe exactly where it would’ve been on the curtain, drawing attention to Scarlett’s desperation and deception sooner rather than later — taking Margaret Mitchell’s initial use of fashion one step further.
Presenters will be dissecting the relationship between fashion and literature in an upcoming Drexel University conference (at which I will be presenting): Fashion in Fiction: The Dark Side of Fashion. If you will be in Philadelphia October 8-10, please drop me a line (see my Profile for email address)!
Feel free to add your own best-dressed characters in fiction in the Comments….
It’s been a little while since I posted anything on film costume history. To that end, here are some tasty tidbits on Claudette Colbert and her costumes for the 1934 version of Cleopatra. Speaking to the often difficult task of costuming a mega-star Like Colbert, writer Leon Surmelian explained what happened in an article for a fan magazine in 1938:
“The toughest spot he [costume designer, Travis Banton] ever found himself in was when Cecil B. De Mille started shooting ‘Cleopatra,’ and Claudette Colbert refused to wear the gowns made for her. De Mille had his own staff at Paramount and Banton was in no way responsible for the dresses La Colbert didn’t like. He hadn’t designed them. When shooting starts on a picture of such magnitude, a delay of a few hours would cost the producer thousands of dollars. You can imagine the state of affairs when Cleopatra-Colbert did not choose to go on the set. Banton was called in to design an entirely new wardrobe for her, and the very next day he had the first dress ready. In fact, from day to day he produced the various items of one of the most extravagant wardrobes in the history of movies, while the cameras recorded scenes of ancient Egypt as conceived by De Mille.” (Surmelian, Leon. “Studio Designer Confesses.” Motion Picture. December 1938. 56(5): 67.)
It seems Ms. Colbert had specific ideas about how she should look in this film, and being something of a perfectionist her motives reveal some of her own insecurities. Author Annet Talpert explains this incident, and Colbert’s habit of being difficult (as well as a slightly different version of the story):
“During the making of Cleopatra, she insisted that Travis Banton bare as much of her bosom as possible. Though she had one of screenland’s best figures, she thought her waist was too thick, and she wanted Banton to place all the emphasis above her middle. By calling attention to her chest she also reasoned that it would divert attention from here unusually short neck. Banton gave in to her demands, but the day before shooting began she refused to wear the costumes she’d approved. Banton went back to the workroom. In 24 hours he had the first elaborate costume ready for filming.” (Tapert, A., The Power of Glamour: The Women Who Defined the Magic of Stardom, New York: Crown, 1998. 177)
“Banton wasn’t the only one who had problems with her. ‘She once slapped a fitter at Western Costume who kept insisting her costume fit properly,’ says Leonard Gershe. ‘Claudette knew it wasn’t exactly right and finally got exasperated with her. The woman had treated her as if she was stupid, which was a mistake . . .’ Edith Head, Banton’s successor at Paramount, suggested she find another costume designer who would be more willing to give in to her demands. Colbert brought in Irene who was then a fashion designer with her own salon and designed for Colbert off-screen.” (Tapert, A., The Power of Glamour: The Women Who Defined the Magic of Stardom, New York: Crown, 1998. 177)
Despite these difficulties, the final product got quite a bit of coverage in the popular press, and Shadowplay suggests the designs had an effect on fashion trends:
“Already De Mille’s ‘Cleopatra’ opus is starting fashion trends. Around Hollywood, clips of burnished gold in Lotus flower motifs are worn on filmy lace evening gowns. An Egyptian collar effect is seen here and there. And most interesting of all, the winged bandeaus worn by Claudette Colbert promise to replace the tiara as an evening headdress.” (Whitney, Diane. “Designer’s Say Shorter Skirts!” Shadoplay. July 1934 3(5): 16.)
I’m happy to report that a costume from Cleopatra is currently was on view (along with many others) at the Oklahoma City Museum of Art until August 15. In case you missed it, BAM’s Blog has a lovely overview.
(Claudette Colbert in title role of Cecil B. DeMille’s film Cleopatra. sources from, chuckpalahniuk.net, this image was also published in Life Magazine, Jan 01, 1934)
If you’ve not seen the film, I highly recommend it, it’s opulent and over-the top (watch a clip here at TCM). The costumes are especially beautiful to watch in motion.
*(Image via Vogue.com, John Kobal Foundation/Getty Images)
A friend of mine sent me a link to Janelle Monáe’s “Tightrope” video earlier this summer, and I have been obsessed with the dame ever since (I give you permission to play it when you want to cheer yourself up, and/or have an impromptu dance party, as I do). Not only are her pipes amazing (her concept CDs Metropolis: the Chase Suite, and the sequel The ArchAndroid, are testament to her vocal and style range), but her look! — it’s quirky, fun, formal, and has a healthy dash of what I must assume are her professional singer / performer icons, who mostly appear to be men (James Brown and Michael Jackson high up there). Metropolis is obviously an homage to Fritz Lang’s 1927 classic, and both Lang’s and Monáe’s are futuristic tales of class struggle and oppression; in Monáe’s case, it’s more explicitly about race, with a healthy smattering of gender twisting in there.
Janelle’s first video “Many Moons” depicts an android auction of Janelles, each robot primped and dressed and coiffed for different personalities; bidding wars take place among the underworld elite members of the audience as they compete for the Janelle version they desire, while the prototype Janelle performs live while her sisters are sold off.
The Chicago Tribune wrote of the sequel album (which can just as easily be applied to the premier):
“‘The ArchAndroid’ has ambition to burn. It’s a self-empowerment manifesto couched inside a futuristic “emotion-picture” about an android’s battle to overcome oppression. The notion of space travel and “new worlds” becomes a metaphor for breaking out of the oppression that enslaves minorities of all types in the present one — a theme that has a long tradition in African-American music, from Sun Ra and Parliament-Funkadelic to Cannibal Ox and OutKast.”
What I couldn’t help noticing was an uncomfortable similarity to modern-day fashion shows the auction block was. The chic foreign announcer, Lady Maxxa, introduces auction show with live performer Cindy Mayweather (Janelle), who is the prototype of the Alpha Platinum 9000 droid line. Cindy Mayweather performs the song we’re listening to, to the enthusiastic concert-like crowd’s cheers, dressed in Janelle’s staple white dinner jacket with black silk ribbon tie and nouveau saddle shoes shown to their advantage by highwater tuxedo pants, topped by Janelle’s ever-amazing pompadour.
The introductory celebrity shots of crowd members in the video mimic the paparazzi shots of the front rows at runway shows (which actually have their own photo section on Style.com), giving perhaps undeserved clout and prestige to the designer who snags A-listers attendees, regardless of the strength of the collection on display. The photo below of Jennifer Lopez and Eva Longoria literally cuts off the actual model in favor of the famous attendees:
Jennfier Lopez and Eva Longoria at Diane Von Furstenberg, Spring09
When Cindy Mayweather throws her jacket off in a burst of enthusiastic performing (2:06), revealing her cinched cummerbund, girls in the mosh pit shriek in ecstasy, upsetting the typical gender divide of girls shrieking for male sex symbols. This is only mildly surprising, since the outfit, high hair, and energetic mic moves are very much in the vein of James Brown (whom Janelle readily claims as a primary inspiration):
Over the years, fashion shows have moved from private parlors of the fashion house to larger and more ornate venues, often bombarding the larger audiences with light shows, video installments (Steve McQueen famously used holograms one year), and live musical performers, increasing the fashion spectacle to performance art highs. Below is the delightfully quirky Tori Amos performing for one of my favorite Viktor & Rolf runway shows, Autumn/Winter 05:
The theme of multiplicity and interchangeability of non-Caucasian ethnicities (“they all look the same”) is explored too (see my earlier post on multiplicity in Coraline). All androids, including the performer Cindy Mayweather, are part of the same line of androids, but are dressed up differently. Their shared roots are only made explicit in shots of the chorus backstage, when they’re all wearing identical tuxes (but different from Cindy Mayweather’s tux):
Monae has turned the fashion industry’s standard of racial desirability on its head here, since in our world, models of color are notoriously overlooked and under-employed. In a rather shocking NYTimes article about model scouts who seek recessive white gene pools in Brazil it was noted, “The goal, he and other model scouts say, is to find the right genetic cocktail of German and Italian ancestry, perhaps with some Russian or other Slavic blood thrown in. Such a mix, they say, helps produce the tall, thin girls with straight hair, fair skin and light eyes that Brazil exports to the runways of New York, Milan and Paris with stunning success.” Janelle has tipped the scales so in her futuristic world there is the unapologetic presentation of beautiful women of color on the runway, but with the uneasy narrative of an android (slave) sale. Below is an etching of an actual slave auction; you can see there is the auctioneer (not a stunning, fashionable black woman but a white man), the dapper white men looking to buy a human being (some of whom have switches in their hands already), and an upsettingly orderly clump of black men, women and children behind the stage awaiting their turn to be put on the auction block:
The advertised prices of the androids could just as easily be pricetags of designer clothes…
and Monae’s androids aren’t so meek. The fierce faces the various androids make are taken directly from the fashion runways: no smiles allowed, just sexy, defiant snarls.
And traditional gender and racial stereotypes are questioned subtly again in the backstage primping, when a white male adjusts the corset and hair of one of the androids;
The image most common in European and American art is that of a black servant or maid doting on his/her alabaster employer. One of the most famous is that classic depiction of enslaved Mammy from Gone with the Wind (1939), lacing Scarlett’s stays for a picnic she herself will not attend:
Interestingly, the costumes the various androids parade in aren’t typical slave rags, but are archetypes of wealthy white men pastimes. The jockey,
The gentleman hunter,
The slick banker,
and the flaneur dandy.
The exception is a clear homage to Amelia Earhart — who excelled in a male-dominated profession in male clothes (see my post on Women, Pants & Politics) — and whose photo is actually projected behind the android who wears a similar pilot jumpsuit and goggles. Distinctly not glamorous, with a clomping booted gait, the low camera angle emphasizes the android’s strength, stature and importance:
All told, I’m not sure that Janelle Monáe intended this to be commentary on the fashion industry per se, but it’s undeniable that she took heavy inspiration from designer runways to develop her racial / social / gender agenda with these concept albums. Deliberate or not, it’s frankly a bit disturbing to me that the fashion runway format lends itself so perfectly to this tale of oppression, the stink of slavery and continued female oppression in a glossy, modern, eerily familiar context.
The Textile Curator will be responsible for the textile, gold-tooled leather and wallpaper collection. European tapestries, linen damasks, oriental carpets, upholstered interior elements, European textiles (including silk fabrics) and lace represent key sub-collections. The curator should have a vision for the development of this collection, make proposals for acquisition, and implement policy with respect to the formation, maintenance/preservation and management of this sub-collection. This position falls under the Department of Fine and Decorative Arts, which comprises curators, academic staff, project employees and trainees in the area of European and Asian painting, sculpture and applied arts. The curator will make a professional impression and can communicate his or her knowledge of the collection with enthusiasm, with the aim of increasing awareness of the wealth of textile ornament and iconography and the visually prominent role textile plays in European interiors.
For more information, please see the official job description or contact Gregor Weber, Head of Department of Fine and Decorative Arts, by phone on +31 (0)20 674 7282. For questions regarding the application procedure, phone Anita Jansen, Human Resources Manager, on +31 (0)20 674 7326.
*Wedding Dress, ca 1759. Rijksmuseum – Netherlands
As a young woman who has atypically looked forward to turning shocking silver (I’ve even promised myself to grow my pixie haircut at that time to accentuate it), I’ve read with some curiosity but ultimate skepticism, the rash of articles and blog posts about the supposed trend of women embracing grey hair. The most recent that I read, in UK Telegraph, was one of the more thoughtful ones; it concentrated on 46-year-old ’90s supermodel Kristin McMenamy’s latest photo shoot for Dazed and Confused magazine. Having always been a rather startling-looking woman with Tilda Swinton-like pallor and a broad sneer of a mouth, the shock of flowing, natural grey tresses doesn’t seem so out of place on McMenamy. “You can get older and still be rock’n'roll,” she told the magazine. “I thought all that grey hair would make a beautiful picture.” Below are two photos (neither from the D&C shoot) that exemplify how grey can be romantic…
in Vogue, August 2010
sleek…
in Calvin Klein RTW F2010
or totally fucking fierce:
on the Givenchy runway, S2008
This is not the first time grey hair has been in style; compared to the 18th century, this current fad is a drop in the pan. Men and women alike oiled and powdered their hair shades of grey and white starting in the mid-1700s. Oil was necessary to make the powder stick, and yes, oil and powder was unavoidably shed with movement; you can see Charles-Alexandre de Calonne, below, is leaking powder on his shoulder, like dandruff, where his ponytail rubs:
detail of Charles-Alexandre de Calonne by Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun, 1784
Below Madame Grand (later Madame Talleyrand-Périgord, Princesse de Bénévent) models the bouffant du jour in the late 18th century:
Madame Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, later Princesse de Bénévent, by Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun, 1783
Mature as her dusty locks make her to our 21st century eyes, this is only a 22 year-old woman; you can see her cheeks are still youthfully plump and rosy (though blush undoubtedly assisted). Here is the same woman — approximately 25 years later:
detail of Madame Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, later Princesse de Bénévent by François Gérard, c. 1808
In addition to the change of hair color and style, it is obvious by this comparison that there was a radical change of silhouette in the costume of the mid-late-18th century and that of the early 19th century. As with the turn of the 20th century, a great deal of bulk and fussiness was discarded in favor of a sleeker and ultimately more youthful, modern look in hair and costume. I don’t think it’s the powdered grey hair alone that ages our subject, but rather the compilation of big, fussy, surreal hair with busy bows and lace and volume in the dress and accessories. In my humble opinion, the neo-Classical look of the early 19th century just feels more modern. But I digress.
Marie Antoinette (1755 – 1793) was both early champion and ultimate victim of powered coiffures. The Flour War of 1775, caused by the de-regulation of wheat prices by the government, lead to hoarding, gauging, and the inability of lower classes to afford simple bread, and was the ominous precursor to the crescendo of the French Revolution. Wig powder, a product of finely ground starch (a.k.a. flour), was used liberally by the naive queen in her legendary towering bouffants, casting her and her fashion statements in a distinctly unflattering, frivolous light. French historian Caroline Weber observed, “…although historians have established that Marie Antoinette never uttered the legendary remark “Let them eat cake,” it is not implausible that the lasting association between her callousness and baked edibles in fact originated with her habit of parading her powdered, wedding-cake hairstyles before a bread-starved nation.”
Here is Marie Antoinette in the very year of the Flour War, seemingly flaunting her willful ignorance of the economic struggles of her country, and all to achieve that trendy grey hair:
Marie Antoinette by Jacques-Fabien Gautier D'Agoty, 1775
With no small irony, according to legend Marie Antoinette’s hair turned grey with stress and fear the night before her execution; grey hair as fashion statement had clearly run its course as it became associated with the demonized, decapitated monarch. Two years later the English government levied a tax on hair powder, the last coffin nail of that grey-haired trend… until today?
Granite hair was on the 2010 runways shows of playful Giles Deacon and goth Gareth Pugh, and the Telegraph article quoted high end hairdressers claiming to have more young clients who want grey, like Peaches Geldof, Kelly Osbourne, Kate Moss and Victoria Beckham. This kind of minimal evidence has prompted sites like trendhunter.com to prematurely declare “For decades men and women have been trying to mask signs of aging, but a new wave fashionable gray hair is reflecting a shifting attitude regarding the physical effects of getting older.” A more tempered NYTimes article quoted colorist Sharon Dorram, “who said that among her downtown New York patrons, it is mostly younger women, renegade types, who request gray. Not lost on Ms. Dorram is the irony that their older, more conventional counterparts spent $1.3 billion to cover their grays last year, according to Nielsen.”
I don’t think gunmetal tresses were a sign of the fetishization, or even simple respect, of mature women in the 18th century, and I don’t think that’s the case in 2010 either. It’s an unusual, edgy color precisely because so many women with natural grey hair color over it, so it really pops when a woman such as Kristin McMenamy rocks it. I think that even if more grey hair dye is being sold, it is unfortunately not a sign that older women — specifically, naturally mature women — are all of a sudden welcomed back into the fold for the general, fashionable, youth-obsessed public. Pixie Geldof, for example, I don’t think could be said to be furthering the cause of women aging gracefully, though her hair is certainly grey:
Pixie Geldof
Along a similar line, premature articles claiming the emergence of older models on runways and magazine spreads as being indicative of older women being accepted as beautiful and sexual are, I think, overlooking that those older models might be over-the-hill 30+, but they are recognizable and have proven themselves exceptionally good at selling products — hence their previous successes. In economically strapped times I think we all return to the familiar, tried-and-true methods of existence, and I believe designers are returning to supermodels of yesteryear because they have the most experience and accomplishments, and fame/notoriety that can only come with age — also, they are still smokin’ hot. Kate Moss is still landing covers at age 36 (which is, by the way, close to the height of a woman’s biological peak of personal sexuality), and 37 year-old Heidi Klum is even modeling in Victoria Secret lingerie shows (after having popped out 4 children). This is evidence that magazines and designers don’t want to take as many risks these days, when merchandise is harder to move off shelves. They know Moss and Klum, they know their scopes, their talent, and the sales they still consistently generate. After all, you don’t hear about a surge of random, unknown older women taking up the runways — that would demonstrate real progress in my eyes. May I suggest Gloria Steinem for that next stage?
I’m so excited by the potential of this upcoming exhibit: To Dye For: A World Saturated in Color, which opens to the public at the Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco, de Young on July 31, 2010. This fashion exhibit is the first in many years to pull from the museums own collection and to be fully conceived in house. If we hope to have more of these kinds of exhibits from the de Young, it is important to support these efforts. I am thrilled to be able to bring you an early preview of this exhibit tomorrow morning. I will be reporting what I see at @fashionhistoria – watch for my tweets starting at 10am.
According to the press materials:
A truly cross-cultural presentation, this exhibition showcases objects from a variety of diverse cultures and historical periods, including a tie-dyed tunic from the Wari-Nasca culture of pre-Hispanic Peru (A.D. 500–900), a paste-resist Mongolian felt rug from the 15th–17th century, and a group of stitch-resist dyed 20th-century kerchiefs from the Dida people of the Ivory Coast. These historical pieces are contrasted with artworks from contemporary Bay Area artists like Judith Content, Ana Lisa Hedstrom, Angelina DeAntonis and Yoshiko Wada.
Also included in the exhibition is an elegant tie-dye evening gown from Rodarte’s 2009 collection and an ikat trench coat from Oscar de La Renta’s 2005 collection. Both looks foreshadowed the current spring/summer trend of tribal-infused fashions such as Dries Van Noten’s and Gucci’s ikats and Proenza Schouler’s and Calvin Klein’s tie-dyes.
*Oscar de la Renta, (American, born Santo Domingo, 1932) Trench coat, 2005 Coat: Silk; warp-faced plain weave, warp-resist dyeing (ikat) Belt: synthetic raffia, leather; crocheted Gift of Mr. Thomas L. Kempner
Sometimes we all just need a good history lesson to brighten our day. Here, Kristina Haugland, Associate Curator of Costume and Textiles at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, discusses the subject of undergarment history for your edification (with marvelous slides). It’s about an hour and a half long. I found it engaging and very well done – do let me know what you think of it.
A few weeks ago, I posted on my experience looking inside 1950s Dior pieces at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. This week, I want to draw your attention to a designer who was even more interested in re-shaping the female form than Dior in the 1950s: Charles James. As I’ve mentioned, In the Spring of 2003, I was fortunate to have a costume history class with Professor Elizabeth Morano, author ofSonia Delaunay: Art into Fashion. On one particularly unique day, we got to look inside the ‘four-leaf-clover’ dress – along with a few other James pieces.
_
"Four-Leaf Clover," Charles James, 1953, C.I.53.73.
Brooklyn Museum Costume Collection at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of the Brooklyn Museum, 2009; Gift of Mrs. Cornelius V. Whitney, 1953
While indeed the outside of this gown is phenomenally beautiful – especially the naturalistic and floral reference in the skirt, juxtaposed with the architectural lines of the bodice – it is the inside that reveals the true genius of Charles James. Below, you can see the photos we took of the inside construction of the skirt.
Handily enough, the MMA has several drawings depicting the exact construction and materials used to create this tour de force of design and fashionable architecture. Not only is the bodice heavily boned, but the skirt is as well – providing a heavily contrived and immobile piece. I distinctly remember wondering aloud with classmates about the practicality of wearing the dress – how could the wearer get to the party without sitting down in a car?
Brooklyn Museum Costume Collection at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of the Brooklyn Museum, 2009; Gift of Mrs. Cornelius V. Whitney, 1953 (also above image)
The Metropolitan Museum of Art now houses two of these gowns, in addition to a slightly different and more elaborate version (as well as accompanying sketches). Visit their collection database to see them, here. Ohio State University also has a version of this gown worn by Mrs. William Randolph Hearst. Gayle Strege of Ohio State University did a marvelous research project on the construction and history of a ‘Four Leaf Clover” dress between 2003 and 2007. Her work focused on exploring, in detail, the interior and it was incorporated into the 2007 Charles James Exhibition at Kent state. (Until last week, much of her research was available online but was removed to make way for Kent State Museum’s new website).
I asked Strege to talk to me briefly about her research. Here’s what she had to say:
The thing that intrigued me the most about looking inside the gown was its understructure and discovering the overlapping layers of 4-5” wide horsehair braid (used in millinery) used to create the stiffness required to maintain the shape of the understructure. So many different types of stiffening materials were used to create the armature upon which James draped his satins, velvets and taffetas, including the braid, boning, horsehair canvas and non-woven interfacing.
Gina Bianco, a textile conservator in NYC, spent a lot of time with our James dress and noted several alterations to it as well as interesting construction details. She definitely saw James the milliner in this dress—especially in his use of materials to create his very 3 dimensional structures—like you would a hat. She likened the bodice to the crown of a hat and the skirt as a very wide brim—held out and reinforced with various stiffening materials.
Below are two images from Strege’s work with the dress that was at Ohio State the Brooklyn Museum** (do click on them to enlarge for details):
The other gowns that the class looked at that day revealed James’ consistency in form and use of materials – and also on his steadfast desire to remake a woman into an idealized silhouette. As you can see from the photo below, the gowns retain their shape on the hanger – acting more like sculpture than flat textiles.
Ball Gown, Charles James, 1949, Met, CI, 57.31.1.
The Museum at F.I.T. also has a number of gowns by Charles James gowns and the American High Style exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum currently has a large selection of Charles James on view.
(The above photo, and many more of the exhibits are available at C-Monster.net)
*”Four-Leaf Clover,” Charles James, 1953, C.I.53.73.
**Correction from Gayle Strege: On the photos: “they are not of our dress at OSU, but of the one at the Brooklyn Museum. I was researching it with reproducing the understructure in mind since OSU’s dress arrived here with the understructure in pieces, with other pieces missing. The great thing about it is that it was Austine Hearst’s dress, and the first one of this type James did.”
Unless otherwise noted, all photographs were taken by the author.
Since my trip to Hawaii last year, where I visited the Lyman Museum, I’ve become increasingly interested in Hawaiian history and their material culture. So when I had the chance to visit a more local exhibition covering a similar topic, I jumped at the chance.
The San Jose Museum of Quilts & Textiles current has three exhibitions on view in relation to Hawaiian fabric and textiles. They are Alfred Shaheen: Fabric to Fashion; Wendeanne Ke’aka Stitt: Contemporary Kapa and an unnamed Special Events Gallery showing of hand-stitched Hawaiian quilts. It should be noted here, that though it might appear that there were very few wall panels of text for any of the three shows – a gallery guide was available (to borrow and for sale – $.6.50) which filled in much of what was missing. It is well worth it to borrow the guide at the admissions desk, or to purchase one.
After paying our admission and entering the exhibition a friend and I stopped in the first gallery, where Wendeanne Ke’aka Stitt: Contemporary Kapawas on display. Theses are flat textiles made of various natural fibers. While at the Lyman museum in Hawaii, I learned that traditional Ka’pa cloth was:
“made from the mulberry tree, and then decorated by either block print, immersion dye, panting, overlay or cord snapping. ‘Plants, animals, and even dirt were ground in a stone mortar to get every color imaginable.’”
In this contemporary display, however, the pieces were made from a mix of local and Hawaiian materials including Black Walnut, Hawaiian red dirt, Queen of the Knight Black Tulips, and backyard Mulburries. When examining the cloth, one naturally wants to be able touch and feel the texture (especially the machine quilted ka’pa made with vintage cotton). Happily, several samples of ka’pa cloth were provided – it’s a surprisingly soft fiber. Also much appreciated, was an in depth wall-panel that explained in detail how the cloth is made, with photographic examples. I had not realized that Ka’pa is the only bark cloth that goes through a fermentation process!
Moving through to the special exhibition gallery was an unnamed show of hand-sewn Hawaiian quilts. Small labels next to each beautifully done quilt named the artist, the date and materials used but didn’t provide much in the way of curatorial direction. Additional information on the meanings of the forms was provided in the gallery guide. Our favorites were the Red Giner and Plumeria with Maile Leis – both by Chieko Nakagawa.
One small quilt by Carol Kamaile, Chinese Money Tree, was the artists ‘first’ attempt to design and complete a Hawaiian quilt – it took her five years to complete. I’m still trying to comprehend the skill and attention required by this extremely high-quality hand sewing.
Moving into Alfred Shaheen: Fabric to Fashion exhibit our mouths gaped and gasped at the colors of the textiles and fashion that lay before us. The exhibit seemed to flow beautifully through a rainbow of colors. Most examples dated to between the 1950s and 1960s though several garments from the 1980s were also included. Much ephemera, including advertisements, buttons, original hanging tags, and long beautiful bolts of vintage fabric.
If you like Mad Men at all, this exhibit is for you. Over and over again, the silhouette was the familiar, glamorous wasp waist of Betty Draper. New Look and wiggle dress silhouette’s abounded, in both dresses and swimwear. Men’s shirts and some children’s clothing were included as well.
It seems Shaheen was the cornerstone on which Hawaii’s garment industry was built (when he started his business there in the late 1940s). Much of the exhibit shows quite clearly the connections between East & West. The design of the garments include Watteau backs, Nehru collars, pagoda sleeves, sari-style draping, Chinese characters, as well as obvious inspiration from Egypt and India (especially in the later years). All this intermingles with what we now think of as traditional Hawaiian motifs – Plumeria, Hibiscus and other tropical flowers especially.
Shaheen apparently also sent his textile designers all over Asia and Polynesia to gather inspiration. The effect was an exotic look, that incorporated ethnic textiles and traditional techniques. I don’t want to give away too much here, and if you’re in the area I STRONGLY encourage a visit – you won’t be disappointed (so long as you get that gallery guide!)
I must, unfortunately, point out a few problems that proved too distracting to this otherwise enchanting experience. Most of these have primarily to do with the dressing of the garments, and to some degree the exhibition design. What wall panels were available were too long to hold a general museum-goers attention. Generally speaking, wall text shouldn’t be more than 300 words long, and the 2 or 3 panels that I saw were much, much longer than that. Given the sparseness elsewhere in the exhibit, the curator(s) could have spread their text out a bit more. I also found it frustrating to have to refer to a gallery guide, when an extended label would have worked nicely (and would have saved the museum money on photocopies).
Primarily though, my problem was the way the garments were displayed. Too often, garments were displayed on mannequins that were not the appropriate size (either too big or to small). To compensate for this, dressers folded and pinned dresses along side seams. Given the layout, and viewers ability to walk 360 degrees around a garment (a rare treat!) it would have been better if the design were uninterrupted.
It was particularly irritating on the pocketed yellow dress pictured above. The eye was naturally drawn to the pockets, but the dress was folded at the sides, stunting the effect and drawing the viewers attention to the problematic fit. Some of the smocked sundresses pulled at the back, indicating that they were also on incorrectly sized mannequins. So too were several of the floor length dresses folded along the back seam (when the interest was the back!)
My other issues with the exhibition related primarily to the use of plastics in the display. In some instances, I understood that they were trying to recreate a boutique look, as laid out by the Shaheen manual (a copy was provided at the exhibition). However, as you can see from the image above, the effect did a huge disservice to the clothing displayed and frankly, looked sloppy. It also emphasized the ’boutique’ or ‘shopping’ feel of the exhibition – a common enough problem when museums display garments. Having vintage Shaheen garments for sale in the gift shop didn’t help this problem either.
The use of plastic hangers to display the men’s Hawaiian shirts, and women’s bathing suits, in the gallery was unfortunate. It just looked unprofessional and too slap-dash for a professional museum to use this kind of display method. Objects displayed suspended from the ceiling seemed to be inviting patrons to touch the clothing, and frequently garments ended up touching each other, or other wall-mounted pieces.
Now, despite these shortcomings, I do think the Bay Area is lucky to have this exhibition on view. The clothes are luxurious and beautiful – especially the textile design. It is on view through August 8, in San Jose. These clothes are a rare treasure, and given the display techniques used, they aren’t likely to be around forever – so see them now while you can. For those not able to see the exhibition, here’s a brief slideshow of the exhibit:
*As an aside, collectors looking to obtain vintage Alfred Shaheen will find a surprisingly large selection on Etsy.
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, New York: Crown, 1998. 177)
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