Holy Moley! 100 Scatters. Who knew when I started doing this that there could be so much to look at and comment on? I sure didn't. In honor of this odd achievement I'm giving you a double dose of Scatter this week, two dozen things from the depths of my crowded head. I hope you enjoy yourself. I always do.
Here
We
Go!
When we think of the 18th century, and it's men's fashions we tend to think of those gloriously embroidered suits, and I've certainly shown you plenty of them. But there were other ways men decorated their clothes, like this elegant silk velvet suit. First of all the choice of material makes this a quite expensive suit. Velvets were pricey, far moreso than they are now. And the decoration is confined to one sort of trim. Gold lace. Now it must be said that lace was an expensive choice of itself, since it was so incredibly time consuming to make. But metal thread lace like this was over the moon costly. The reason is simple. The metal strip wound around the silk core made the thread slightly stiff, so it was more difficult to work with, and the gold coil could break if stressed too much in the process of weaving the lace, so extra time and care were required. So this suit, relatively simple as it seems, is in fact a massively expensive set of garments. And gorgeous.
I hope none of you thought you'd get a scatter without at least a bit of the avant garde on display. This piece is by Acne Studio. It deliberately messes with our sense of proportion, and of functionality. The subtle shading of the textile makes our eye move in unexpected ways, and the belt seems to be a real one, but isn't. The coat closes without need of it. The result is a nearly surreal garment. In the world of avant garde design, this is pretty tame. I could imagine some ultra stylish woman wearing this in real terms. I do love the experimenters.
Texture. Here we have an assemblage of items of very similar color, so the majority of what gets expressed, beyond the effect of those colors comes from the textures involved. We have smooth leather, plain woven silk, grainy surfaced vinyl, and nylon all in play together. If this were a real world set of choices, and not a fashion shoot, it would imply much about the wearer's sensibilities, The choice of the deeper red tones conveys a seriousness mixed with a very grown up sensuality. The types of garments all convey a more serious nature as well. The only slightly playful element is the hat, but it is rendered in such a way that nearly all the sporting associations are removed. And the play of textures implies a depth and complexity that is intriguing.
This is a genuine rarity. Undergear and such almost never survives over time since it gets worn till it's use is gone. This woman's shirt/shift is from the 1500s. As such it makes it one of the oldest complete garments around. I suspect it was the quality of the embroidery work that saved this amazing piece from the dust rag pile. Of Italian make, the shirt is densely embroidered all over the sleeves, neck opening and even the hem. This would have been owned by a woman of great wealth, and probably title. The embellished sleeves would have been clearly visible within the volume of her gown's over sleeves, and the decoration of the neckline as well would have been partially in sight. The deep vee of the neck is part of a fashion that existed mostly in the Italian courts, and to an extent in France, but was not a real part of the English or Spanish fashions.
Today, a brooch or pin serves only one function, decorative. But even into the earliest part of the 20th century a brooch could also be a closure. This is a gold kilt, or sash brooch from the 7th century AD. It would have been used to either hold the shoulder sash in place, or help keep a gent's kilt from hitting the ground unexpectedly. Even in what is traditional Scots attire the brooch has little function beyond the ornamental. The sash brooch does help keep the plaid in place, but it's about the only time I can think of now where it still has a non-adornment use.
Trade. When we began serious trade with China, once shipping became more regular and faster, the amount of goods made there that were intended for the western market began to increase rapidly. This gentleman's vest from 1845 is a perfect example. The silk material is a classic Chinese pattern but rendered with a nod to western aesthetics. Similarly, western made goods were sent there that spun our visual concepts to appeal more to the Chinese marketplace.
Say hello, Cate. In 2007, Cate Blanchett posed for iD magazine, and this astounding image came out of that session. it manages to be deeply retro, futuristic, mocking, smoulderingly sexy, and arch all at once. Sure, some of that is the potency of Ms Blanchett's gaze. But a good deal of what comes across to us is about the shape of the hood, its color, the type of veiling, the color of her lipstick, and the position of that one curl of hair. Each one of these things contributes to the final expression, like the words in a sentence. Brava, Miss Cate.
This made me smile. Why, you ask? Well for two reasons, really. One, it's a take on men's suiting that I can get behind. It's less confining, without losing it's formal nature, and it is a cut that could work well for a wide range of body shapes with ease. The other reason is that, being a Chanel design, it is playing deliberately on the iconic women's Chanel suit. As a side note, I miss the days when we used to dress really well to travel. It used to be something you considered carefully, since you were going to be in the public eye for an extended period, and traveling was a luxury.
This is pretty much a poster child for the robe a la Francaise style. It bears all the classic elements of the mode that would dominate women's fashion for 40 years. Most obviously the side hoops, or panniers are the first, and most essential part. The matching stomacher and visible underskirt are made up in the same textile as the gown. The trimmings, (also called robings) that line the front opening of the dress, are also the same textile, and of a style that was quite common. The sleeves are half length, ending in broad cuffs with ruffles to hide the elbow. Catching a glimpse of the elbow was a treat for the swains of the day. And, though you can't see it in this image, the huge box pleats of material that fall from shoulder to the floor on the back of the gown. All of this is standard issue stuff.
Oh my, the 80's This is an ensemble by Stephen Sprouse from 1985. It's a great example of the emergence of "fun" sports gear. Right about this time we were really developing our love affair with going to the gym, and so clothing came into being that was not only designed for such activity, but made it more of a fashion parade. We had to make sure our buddies in sweat knew we were stylish, as well as studly. As well, the 80s showed a dramatic increase in the appearance of clothing with text on it. We had heretofore only dallied with that idea tangentially. But by the 1980s, we went full bore on it, plastering our clothes with all manner of words and slogans. To my mind it was one of the ways we began to cope with a rising feeling of personal invisibility within our own society. We needed to speak more loudly in order to be heard.
What a charming bonnet milady is sporting. This is a European made bonnet from 1860. Part of what makes me smile here is that it is so clear, (to me at least) what sort of thing this was meant for. This is a fall to winter bonnet. Both the pattern of the ribbon and the colors in use mark it as suited for the last third of the year. Black trimmings would not have been used outside of mourning unless it was fall or winter. And black lace, certainly not. What is also of interest is that it is quite likely that this hat was re-trimmed after being in use for mourning. Simply remove the patterned ribbon and it's entirely on point for mourning. The straw of the bonnet even has black in it.
I do love how older aesthetic movements contribute to contemporary design. This pendant necklace by Suzanne Williams is a great example. It draws most of its inspiration from the arts and Crafts movement at the beginning of the 20th century, which in its turn took a good deal of ideas from Japanese art and craft. I also love the manipulation of the metals to strongly resemble wood. We do so love making things look like things that they are not.
Sometimes inspiration for a designer turns into outright copying. This glorious cape was created by Charles Frederick Worth in 1895. But it is a nearly exact copy of a Spanish riding cape from the 1500s that is part of the Met collection. Both the material used, the cut and the decoration are the same. The chocolate brown silk velvet cape us liberally decorated with couched gold cord in a complex, scrolling pattern. There are numerous gold tassels, and a line of pom pom tassels on the center line of the hood. It's all lined with white silk. What makes this especially interesting to me is that the design works seamlessly with the styles of the late 1800s, so it is unsurprising that this was copied so precisely.
Sometimes it is the subtle interplay of soft colors that can create a deeply communicative visual remark. This ensemble by Ermenegildo Zenga is a great case in point. All of the colors in play are at the same level of intensity. What creates the expression here is both the layers of them, and their disposition. The mass of each color in large or small amounts is helping to both unify, and complexify the entire ensemble. The result is a set of garments that implies, both a certain serenity of demeanor, and also great sophistication. Of course the reality of the person wearing these clothes could be entirely different. They could be choosing to present that idea, without being that at all.
This is Mara Desepris. I'm including this image because it is such a potent expression of our fantasy of the perilous femme fatale. It is a trope that has been both boon and bane to women. On the one hand it suggests a woman as potent and powerful, but it also suggests that the bulk of her power is in the use of her body as a sexual tool. So this fantasy image that we continue to return to is capable of both elevating and demeaning women at the same time. Our media, and the design community, certainly do a good deal to promote this idea constantly, subtly encouraging women to rely on sex to get what they want. Will we get past this idea of the dangerous female? What a great question. I sure don't know.
Scale. The scale of a garment defines a great deal of what it says to us when we see it. Scale this huge sweater back to average proportions and it loses nearly all it's impact, in fact, recreated in a more conventional size it would take on quite a conservative tone of voice. Scale this up and it becomes edgy, and badass. Of course, the model sure helps in that regard. Henrik Vibskov, Fall/Winter 2015.
Sometimes I like to include something simply because it's charming. This is a cotton seaside costume that was made in 1872. Forgiving the fact of the manikin being too large, (those sleeves would have ended at the wrist, not above), this is a well curated vision of how this ensemble would have looked. The blue and white stripe of the dress is trimmed with navy cotton velveteen, and narrow blue cording. Such ensembles as this one were de rigeur for seaside vacationing. Ladies would have wandered down the beach, parasol over their heads wearing clothes just like these. They might even have taken their boots off and dipped their feet in the shallows, giving their male fiends a glimpse of ankle. (shocking!)
The hood is an item of more than utility. We have used it for as long as it has existed to both conceal, or selectively reveal identity. So it has become, over time, intimately associated with mystery and danger. The ubiquity of the hoodie today has diminished a great deal of that power, but under certain circumstances, as here, the potential for that same kind of dramatic expression still exists. Well structured and well scaled, a hood becomes an object of romance and opera. We need more of that sort of drama.
I love the Byzantine style. This necklace is from about 700 AD and is a wonderful sample of the barbaric extravagance of the aesthetics of Byzantium. So powerful is this period's visual language that we have incorporated it into our broader aesthetics on a permanent basis. We utilize these same principles over and over. This necklace is of gold plates, decorated with various gem stones all smooth polished and left irregular in shape. It's a magnificent piece of work and emblematic of both its time and its culture.
Outside of a club, this is kinda cray cray, but I gotta say, I unreservedly love this. Space Age Hippie Chick. Though it isn't readily apparent, the entire garment's surface is beaded and sequined. The result is a set of textures that appear armorial and protective. It's another of those tropes that we continue to reference. Warrior female, amazon. But in this case the warrior female seems more likely to be wielding a ray gun. So many of the looks that come down runways reference one of these tropes or another, a series of fantasy states that we still relate to because they convey something primal, essential about us.
Another of the things I find continually fascinating is the intersection between technology and Attire. Without the constant innovations that create new textiles, and new manners of assembly, our creativity would be seriously constrained. But new fibers, new finishes, and subsequently entire new families of textiles get born with astounding rapidity. Not all of them manage to find a place in the Attire language, but a great number do, filtering down from high level designers eventually to mass market retailers of every sort.
Another gorgeous cape, this one is from California and was made in 1849. The dark brown cotton velvet has been lavishly ornamented with silk thread embroidery that employs several shapes of silk wrapped beads in the design. Even the fringes have two rows of silk wrapped beads at the heading. This sort of cape would have been considered appropriate for fall and winter, and would have been confined to day and afternoon uses. An evening cape, even if it were an identical design, would have been rendered in more precious materials, and in other colors than this. And part of what makes this one so special is that it has survived with its fringes fully intact.
More than once I have written about the sheer trend, which seems to be unabated. This effort by Zac Posen uses the idea in a way that manages to be neither vulgar nor obvious. The placement of the sheer panels in the dress, and it's loose, fluid structure allow the reveals to slip in and out of view, which makes it more appealing, less in your face. I suspect that in motion, your eye becomes drawn more to the black silk panels as the undulate than the more stable areas where the black chiffon peeps through. Well conceived. Well executed.
And for the very last item for this one hundredth Scatter some serious bling to dazzle you with. One of the things that really sets 19th century jewelry apart from other periods is the sheer size of the stones they enjoyed using. I suppose it was an unsubtle reference to the power of money, which had become so much of a deciding factor in social success. There are seemingly endless numbers of parures like this one, with huge gemstones on display. Bigger, and more, was certainly better. This parure is in the Neoclassical style, made of yellow gold, with massive amethysts. Are you drooling yet?
And that, is that for Scatter 100. It is such fun for me to do these. I really enjoy assembling the variety into a whole to present to you all. I do hope you enjoy them too. And thanks for stopping by!
Saturday, April 23, 2016
Thursday, April 21, 2016
One Shot: Dinner Dress 1875
It's not very often that I post something that doesn't quite get all the way to it's intended point. I would rather focus on the positive, and so successes are more my thing, than not. That said, I do have to acknowledge that there are things to be seen, and learned from looking at the lesser efforts, the things that miss the target.
This dinner dress is from 1875. It's a great example of something that could have been great, but through some unfortunate design decisions, isn't great at all. What has to be said before parsing out what went wrong is that in terms of construction, there isn't anything to fault this. Whether it was sewn by the lady who wore it, or it was made for her by a professional dressmaker, the skill set on view is just fine.
Now, on to discussing the garment in detail.
Let's begin with the textile choices. There are three in use here, two solid color silks, and one silk with velvet stripes. Superficially these are fine choices for each other, it's the placement of each that goes off track. In especial the lighter colored silk that comprises the over skirt is used nowhere else on the gown, so it doesn't feel integrated into the whole design. Also, the weight of the material is such that it doesn't quite balance the visual gravity of the rest of the costume.
The second design issue is the asymmetrical draping of the swagged apron/bustle. Viewed from an angle, it doesn't appear odd, but seen straight on it looks like it has slid askew, though it's clearly intended to be off center. Two things could help this. One is setting one of the pulled up points directly on a major seam line in the bodice. The other is a slight increase in the draped volume.
The third issue is that of the ready made beaded appliques laden on the bodice. Nothing has been done to really make them seem an intended part of the design. They appear simply slapped on with little consideration for placement or volume. The fact that they are obviously store bought pieces that have been attached is enough reason for concern about the choices made. There are ways to make such pieces look fully a part of the garment. For example, a small decorative ribbon heading at the top of each one would work to draw them more fully into the design. Also, using a few less on the bodice, but taking two three and using them to mark the irregularity of the bustle draping would help.
The most important point here, is not about the garment itself and its rather clumsy finished appearance, but what it communicates to us, ultimately about the person who wore it. Not all of us have perfected taste, or an unfailing design eye. So though this dress is one that was clearly well intentioned, the lady who wore it was probably proud of it, and was just as probably blind to its deficiencies. It remains for us, as viewers, to understand and forgive, just as we forgive the lapses of our loved ones.
Often, in looking at these pieces from our past, it is the things that go wrong that humanize them. They remind us that these were not people from a story, but folk just like us with lives, foibles, and dreams.
This dinner dress is from 1875. It's a great example of something that could have been great, but through some unfortunate design decisions, isn't great at all. What has to be said before parsing out what went wrong is that in terms of construction, there isn't anything to fault this. Whether it was sewn by the lady who wore it, or it was made for her by a professional dressmaker, the skill set on view is just fine.
Now, on to discussing the garment in detail.
Let's begin with the textile choices. There are three in use here, two solid color silks, and one silk with velvet stripes. Superficially these are fine choices for each other, it's the placement of each that goes off track. In especial the lighter colored silk that comprises the over skirt is used nowhere else on the gown, so it doesn't feel integrated into the whole design. Also, the weight of the material is such that it doesn't quite balance the visual gravity of the rest of the costume.
The second design issue is the asymmetrical draping of the swagged apron/bustle. Viewed from an angle, it doesn't appear odd, but seen straight on it looks like it has slid askew, though it's clearly intended to be off center. Two things could help this. One is setting one of the pulled up points directly on a major seam line in the bodice. The other is a slight increase in the draped volume.
The third issue is that of the ready made beaded appliques laden on the bodice. Nothing has been done to really make them seem an intended part of the design. They appear simply slapped on with little consideration for placement or volume. The fact that they are obviously store bought pieces that have been attached is enough reason for concern about the choices made. There are ways to make such pieces look fully a part of the garment. For example, a small decorative ribbon heading at the top of each one would work to draw them more fully into the design. Also, using a few less on the bodice, but taking two three and using them to mark the irregularity of the bustle draping would help.
The most important point here, is not about the garment itself and its rather clumsy finished appearance, but what it communicates to us, ultimately about the person who wore it. Not all of us have perfected taste, or an unfailing design eye. So though this dress is one that was clearly well intentioned, the lady who wore it was probably proud of it, and was just as probably blind to its deficiencies. It remains for us, as viewers, to understand and forgive, just as we forgive the lapses of our loved ones.
Often, in looking at these pieces from our past, it is the things that go wrong that humanize them. They remind us that these were not people from a story, but folk just like us with lives, foibles, and dreams.
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
That Is So You
How many times have we either said this, or had it said to us? I'm sure none of us could track the amount. But the reality of Attire as a language we utilize daily, is profound. So much has it become an intrinsic part of our lives, that we have merged it's concepts with our spoken language. We give literal voice to it when we say things of this nature.
How odd and wonderful it is that, merely looking at a garment on a hanger, or gazing at some accessory, will make us think of a particular person. We come to associate certain types of Attire words with certain people, because we have seen them in something similar. We know it's a word that they could employ. We understand that such and such a pair of shoes is one they would like, so the object becomes connected in our heads, to the being, the personality.
The ways we make this connection are as varied as the humans we connect to. It could simply be a favored color. It might be a particular brand of item. It could be a type of pattern, a kind of detail, or a certain texture. It could even be a specific manner of fitting. Most often of course, it is some combination of these things that sets us to thinking that some friend or family member would wear what we are seeing. We can visualize them clearly, the connection is so strong.
It's obvious, that it's a part of our extraordinary pattern recognition, and associative skills. In order for humans to survive in a dangerous world back in the earliest days we had to develop multiple methods of recognizing what we were seeing that enabled us to react to danger more rapidly, since we did not evolve other protections. This "that is so you" thing, is a manifestation of the same survival technique, applied in a different manner.
By using our unique talents for associating seemingly disparate things, we are able to categorize, and recognize things that allow us to support the people we consider to be essential tribe members. In seeing things around us that we realize connect with those we care about, we are building a stronger connection to them, almost literally weaving the structure of our society.
So, when we say, "that is so you" to someone, we are really saying that we understand the visual messages that they communicate to us through the Attire language. We are saying that whatever it is that they are relaying to the world around them, we comprehend not only the surface of it, but the deeper contexts. We grok them. We truly get who, and what they are. And that sort of level of understanding is only going to result in greater closeness. It may not result in deep friendship, or love, but fear and apprehension fade away to nothing. When we understand this about someone, we have a key to understanding something primal about them. We have a primer, if you will, about their real nature.
When it comes to getting on in the world, coming to a place where we can understand even some part of the people we face is essential. And in this confusing, divided, and contentious world, we need that more than ever before. So, knowing that, when you see something in a shop, or even on someone you pass on the street, and it makes you think of someone you know, because you know they'd appreciate it, remember this; we are drawn closer together by such seemingly insignificant things as these. They make us more a family each time they happen. And we all need family of one kind or another, we need it.
How odd and wonderful it is that, merely looking at a garment on a hanger, or gazing at some accessory, will make us think of a particular person. We come to associate certain types of Attire words with certain people, because we have seen them in something similar. We know it's a word that they could employ. We understand that such and such a pair of shoes is one they would like, so the object becomes connected in our heads, to the being, the personality.
The ways we make this connection are as varied as the humans we connect to. It could simply be a favored color. It might be a particular brand of item. It could be a type of pattern, a kind of detail, or a certain texture. It could even be a specific manner of fitting. Most often of course, it is some combination of these things that sets us to thinking that some friend or family member would wear what we are seeing. We can visualize them clearly, the connection is so strong.
It's obvious, that it's a part of our extraordinary pattern recognition, and associative skills. In order for humans to survive in a dangerous world back in the earliest days we had to develop multiple methods of recognizing what we were seeing that enabled us to react to danger more rapidly, since we did not evolve other protections. This "that is so you" thing, is a manifestation of the same survival technique, applied in a different manner.
By using our unique talents for associating seemingly disparate things, we are able to categorize, and recognize things that allow us to support the people we consider to be essential tribe members. In seeing things around us that we realize connect with those we care about, we are building a stronger connection to them, almost literally weaving the structure of our society.
So, when we say, "that is so you" to someone, we are really saying that we understand the visual messages that they communicate to us through the Attire language. We are saying that whatever it is that they are relaying to the world around them, we comprehend not only the surface of it, but the deeper contexts. We grok them. We truly get who, and what they are. And that sort of level of understanding is only going to result in greater closeness. It may not result in deep friendship, or love, but fear and apprehension fade away to nothing. When we understand this about someone, we have a key to understanding something primal about them. We have a primer, if you will, about their real nature.
When it comes to getting on in the world, coming to a place where we can understand even some part of the people we face is essential. And in this confusing, divided, and contentious world, we need that more than ever before. So, knowing that, when you see something in a shop, or even on someone you pass on the street, and it makes you think of someone you know, because you know they'd appreciate it, remember this; we are drawn closer together by such seemingly insignificant things as these. They make us more a family each time they happen. And we all need family of one kind or another, we need it.
Saturday, April 16, 2016
Scatter #99
Welcome to my brain pan. It's an oft times confused place, full of oddments and ephemera, but it's all I've got to work with. This week's Scatter is about to begin, so get ready to dive in and muck about among all the random stuff in my pointy little head.
This image is from the most recent Valentino runway collection. What interests me here is the interaction between the fragility of the lace that forms the base of this garment, and the stiff leather panels attached to it. It becomes a sort of exploded view of plate armor. In fact, I'm pretty sure that is the intent. I also like that it plays with the sheer trend in an entirely non-sexual way. Though the look is undeniably sexy in a tough customer kind of way, it is in no way sleazy, or vulgar. I suppose my only quibble would be the comfort level of wearing an item composed of such clearly rigid leather pieces.
I have no idea whether this model is actually tattooed in this fashion, or whether it was created for the shoot. It certainly is a high impact kind of ink. And if real, it is a very loud statement about the person's feelings and opinions. Such extreme ink is not for the shy. And I love the profound juxtaposition of the model's romantic pose, elegant suit, and placement amongst flowers. part of what gives this even more potency is the fact that everything has been done to make us focus somewhere else, other than the tattooing, so that when we do note it, it is more startling. It also makes me think of the extremity that some of us have been called to to make ourselves feel seen and heard in our remarkable world. Such literally in your face tattooing, and of such a disturbing nature becomes not only a personal expression, but also a meditation on human frailty, and human folly.
Speaking of tattoos, here's an image from 1905 of a woman with extensive ink. It certainly was unusual for women in western culture to be tattooed, but it did happen. What it would have meant for a woman to be so adorned was significant. She would have been excluded from polite society, even if she managed to keep them all hidden all the time. Knowledge of their very existence would have called her social suitability into serious question. Such social opprobrium is hard for us to understand now, since tattooing has become so socially acceptable, but a century back it would have been a serious hindrance for any woman, and for a good many men, as well.
Ah the 1980s. I remember it well. One of the things that epitomized the decade was a sense of loose structure. The cut of pants had loosened up, shirts and jackets had gained volume, and lost a good deal of rigidity. For women there was a range of over-scaled, loosely fitted clothes of all sorts. This was in direct counterpoint to the other popular look of skin tight everything. Super tight jeans, knit tops, spandex leggings for men and women were a common sight. But for most people it was this easier, more comfortable look that was the go to of the day. I know I had lots of loose fit pants, and blousey shirts a couple of unstructured jackets, and even one of those leather neckerchief thingies like the model is wearing. (In truth I still have it).
By the 1920s, when this dress was created, Paul Poiret had ceased to be an innovator in the design community, and his couture house was struggling to survive in a changing world. That said, this is utterly delicious looking. From the intense purple, to the choice and placement of the beadwork this is a great piece. It's also in indicator of how things were shifting. By 1928, when this was done, hemlines were falling, and the beginnings of that softer, more body hugging look that would dominate the entire 1930s. The way it began was the appearance of floating, bias panels like those decorating the skirt. So this dress is a transitional piece. It still has the tubular chemise shape, but the hem as dropped and the square chiffon pieces refer to what is yet to come.
Here's a gentleman's coat from the 1790s. It is the immediate precursor to the tail coat. What had been happening for an entire century was a slow shrinkage of men's coats. What began at 1700 as a huge, broadly cut coat that went past the knee, diminished decade by decade. First the cut began to tighten at the waist, then the hem drew up a bit and the sleeves got narrower. Over time the coat skirt began to develop a gap in the front that widened until it developed the swallow-tailed look that we associate with the later part of the century. By 1790, as you see, the coat skirt had completely disappeared from the front, and by the end of the century the tails would shrink still further. So, if you look at this bit of history, you can watch the evolution of what became the modern day tail coat.
Undergarments are things that rarely survive to show us what was worn. I suspect it's because most people discard them when their usefulness was over, since the idea of giving underclothes to someone else has unpleasant subtexts. So the survival of this chemisette and bloomers is unusual. The set was made by, and sold at Lord & Taylor of New York, between 1910 and 1915. Such underclothes as these would have been a little staid, since more brief underwear was already being made and worn by the younger set. In particular the bloomers are a mark of someone with more conservative tastes. Made up in sheer off white silk crepe, the design is simple and straightforward. It's an indicator that the wearer was likely a person un-fond of fuss and bother.
You know me, unabashed color whore. So do I like this look? Yep, I do. Now would I wear all of this together? No, probably not, and I certainly wouldn't go shirtless, but I love the idea of the coat. Loosely fitted and with that great combination of pattern and solid. I don't know if those are voluminous pants or if that's a skirt. Either way, I'm on board. And since I seem to be talking tattoos today. "Don't think, feel." It's an interesting statement to choose to put on your body permanently. I have to wonder who this fellow is saying that to; us, or himself?
The parasol was at one time a significant piece of female iconography as important to self expression as the hand bag, the hat, and the shoes were. They had utility beyond keeping the sun away. They were a wonderful method of either revealing or concealing oneself from others. There's a fellow you're interested in, why move your parasol to frame your face. Someone you'd rather not speak to, interpose your parasol. This one is dramatic and lovely. It's decorated over its entire surface with white cording that has been couched down, then the edge has been given a discrete frill of black lace. This is a parasol that that would have been chosen by a woman of some elegance, and no small amount of self possession.
Now, if you're going to assay a lace man shirt, I think this is how it's done. the lace has been subtly turned up with some bead work. The cut is trim, but not too tight, and the overall effect is a kind of modern take on formality that I appreciate. While it's certainly true that the majority of men aren't ready to go there, I can see this as a kind of evening dress look that could eventually catch on. What will make it or break it is how it gets presented to the public. In this case the designer, Affair, has chosen to keep everything else extremely simple and pulled back, allowing the shirt to do the majority of the work. I think that's a wise choice, since it could wander off into costume, or club gear territory all too easily.
It was pretty common for wealthier knights, and nobles who did battle to have armor that was modeled after whatever the prevailing mode was for men's dress. In this case it was the Landsknecht style that had its greatest popularity in Germany. This suit of armor is from 1525 and it accurately chronicles what the style looked like. The neckline is broad and straight across. The sleeves have multiple overlapped layers, and the entirety of the armor is designed to appear as though it has the extensive slashings that were one of the particular hallmarks of the Landsknecht. I'm really struck by the ingenious usage of the style itself to facilitate the articulation of the arms. The wearer could use this armor with relative ease, without the impression of the look diminishing. Clever, what?
As a final entry this week something that isn't apparel, but is surely associated intimately with it. It is referred to a la Francaise as a Coffret de Couture. Sadly, this is the largest and best image I could find, so, my apologies. Made in 1810 in Paris, this sewing box was clearly meant for a lady of means who had little else to do with her time but chat with her friends, order servants around, and sew things of little utility. The various implements are of mother of pearl, ivory, and rock crystal, with gilt brass accents. Looking at the contents, this kit is meant mostly for doing various types of embroidery work, since it has a tambour hook placed in the center. (That's the piece with the key on one side for tightening the hook). I also love the complex piece of decorative ribbonwork that is at the center top of the tray. A couple of the other instruments are for that kind of work. Both the tool with the clam shell handle, and the needle just below it were used in ribbonwork. Most women had a sewing box, since all young girls were taught to sew. Naturally they varied widely in their expense, and what was in them, from the blandly practical, to fanciful and frivolous, like this one.
And that,my friends is the lot for this week. Next Saturday will be a double helping of scatter items in honor of the 100th edition.
Have a grand weekend!
This image is from the most recent Valentino runway collection. What interests me here is the interaction between the fragility of the lace that forms the base of this garment, and the stiff leather panels attached to it. It becomes a sort of exploded view of plate armor. In fact, I'm pretty sure that is the intent. I also like that it plays with the sheer trend in an entirely non-sexual way. Though the look is undeniably sexy in a tough customer kind of way, it is in no way sleazy, or vulgar. I suppose my only quibble would be the comfort level of wearing an item composed of such clearly rigid leather pieces.
I have no idea whether this model is actually tattooed in this fashion, or whether it was created for the shoot. It certainly is a high impact kind of ink. And if real, it is a very loud statement about the person's feelings and opinions. Such extreme ink is not for the shy. And I love the profound juxtaposition of the model's romantic pose, elegant suit, and placement amongst flowers. part of what gives this even more potency is the fact that everything has been done to make us focus somewhere else, other than the tattooing, so that when we do note it, it is more startling. It also makes me think of the extremity that some of us have been called to to make ourselves feel seen and heard in our remarkable world. Such literally in your face tattooing, and of such a disturbing nature becomes not only a personal expression, but also a meditation on human frailty, and human folly.
Speaking of tattoos, here's an image from 1905 of a woman with extensive ink. It certainly was unusual for women in western culture to be tattooed, but it did happen. What it would have meant for a woman to be so adorned was significant. She would have been excluded from polite society, even if she managed to keep them all hidden all the time. Knowledge of their very existence would have called her social suitability into serious question. Such social opprobrium is hard for us to understand now, since tattooing has become so socially acceptable, but a century back it would have been a serious hindrance for any woman, and for a good many men, as well.
Ah the 1980s. I remember it well. One of the things that epitomized the decade was a sense of loose structure. The cut of pants had loosened up, shirts and jackets had gained volume, and lost a good deal of rigidity. For women there was a range of over-scaled, loosely fitted clothes of all sorts. This was in direct counterpoint to the other popular look of skin tight everything. Super tight jeans, knit tops, spandex leggings for men and women were a common sight. But for most people it was this easier, more comfortable look that was the go to of the day. I know I had lots of loose fit pants, and blousey shirts a couple of unstructured jackets, and even one of those leather neckerchief thingies like the model is wearing. (In truth I still have it).
By the 1920s, when this dress was created, Paul Poiret had ceased to be an innovator in the design community, and his couture house was struggling to survive in a changing world. That said, this is utterly delicious looking. From the intense purple, to the choice and placement of the beadwork this is a great piece. It's also in indicator of how things were shifting. By 1928, when this was done, hemlines were falling, and the beginnings of that softer, more body hugging look that would dominate the entire 1930s. The way it began was the appearance of floating, bias panels like those decorating the skirt. So this dress is a transitional piece. It still has the tubular chemise shape, but the hem as dropped and the square chiffon pieces refer to what is yet to come.
Here's a gentleman's coat from the 1790s. It is the immediate precursor to the tail coat. What had been happening for an entire century was a slow shrinkage of men's coats. What began at 1700 as a huge, broadly cut coat that went past the knee, diminished decade by decade. First the cut began to tighten at the waist, then the hem drew up a bit and the sleeves got narrower. Over time the coat skirt began to develop a gap in the front that widened until it developed the swallow-tailed look that we associate with the later part of the century. By 1790, as you see, the coat skirt had completely disappeared from the front, and by the end of the century the tails would shrink still further. So, if you look at this bit of history, you can watch the evolution of what became the modern day tail coat.
Undergarments are things that rarely survive to show us what was worn. I suspect it's because most people discard them when their usefulness was over, since the idea of giving underclothes to someone else has unpleasant subtexts. So the survival of this chemisette and bloomers is unusual. The set was made by, and sold at Lord & Taylor of New York, between 1910 and 1915. Such underclothes as these would have been a little staid, since more brief underwear was already being made and worn by the younger set. In particular the bloomers are a mark of someone with more conservative tastes. Made up in sheer off white silk crepe, the design is simple and straightforward. It's an indicator that the wearer was likely a person un-fond of fuss and bother.
You know me, unabashed color whore. So do I like this look? Yep, I do. Now would I wear all of this together? No, probably not, and I certainly wouldn't go shirtless, but I love the idea of the coat. Loosely fitted and with that great combination of pattern and solid. I don't know if those are voluminous pants or if that's a skirt. Either way, I'm on board. And since I seem to be talking tattoos today. "Don't think, feel." It's an interesting statement to choose to put on your body permanently. I have to wonder who this fellow is saying that to; us, or himself?
The parasol was at one time a significant piece of female iconography as important to self expression as the hand bag, the hat, and the shoes were. They had utility beyond keeping the sun away. They were a wonderful method of either revealing or concealing oneself from others. There's a fellow you're interested in, why move your parasol to frame your face. Someone you'd rather not speak to, interpose your parasol. This one is dramatic and lovely. It's decorated over its entire surface with white cording that has been couched down, then the edge has been given a discrete frill of black lace. This is a parasol that that would have been chosen by a woman of some elegance, and no small amount of self possession.
Now, if you're going to assay a lace man shirt, I think this is how it's done. the lace has been subtly turned up with some bead work. The cut is trim, but not too tight, and the overall effect is a kind of modern take on formality that I appreciate. While it's certainly true that the majority of men aren't ready to go there, I can see this as a kind of evening dress look that could eventually catch on. What will make it or break it is how it gets presented to the public. In this case the designer, Affair, has chosen to keep everything else extremely simple and pulled back, allowing the shirt to do the majority of the work. I think that's a wise choice, since it could wander off into costume, or club gear territory all too easily.
It was pretty common for wealthier knights, and nobles who did battle to have armor that was modeled after whatever the prevailing mode was for men's dress. In this case it was the Landsknecht style that had its greatest popularity in Germany. This suit of armor is from 1525 and it accurately chronicles what the style looked like. The neckline is broad and straight across. The sleeves have multiple overlapped layers, and the entirety of the armor is designed to appear as though it has the extensive slashings that were one of the particular hallmarks of the Landsknecht. I'm really struck by the ingenious usage of the style itself to facilitate the articulation of the arms. The wearer could use this armor with relative ease, without the impression of the look diminishing. Clever, what?
As a final entry this week something that isn't apparel, but is surely associated intimately with it. It is referred to a la Francaise as a Coffret de Couture. Sadly, this is the largest and best image I could find, so, my apologies. Made in 1810 in Paris, this sewing box was clearly meant for a lady of means who had little else to do with her time but chat with her friends, order servants around, and sew things of little utility. The various implements are of mother of pearl, ivory, and rock crystal, with gilt brass accents. Looking at the contents, this kit is meant mostly for doing various types of embroidery work, since it has a tambour hook placed in the center. (That's the piece with the key on one side for tightening the hook). I also love the complex piece of decorative ribbonwork that is at the center top of the tray. A couple of the other instruments are for that kind of work. Both the tool with the clam shell handle, and the needle just below it were used in ribbonwork. Most women had a sewing box, since all young girls were taught to sew. Naturally they varied widely in their expense, and what was in them, from the blandly practical, to fanciful and frivolous, like this one.
And that,my friends is the lot for this week. Next Saturday will be a double helping of scatter items in honor of the 100th edition.
Have a grand weekend!
Thursday, April 14, 2016
One Shot: Silk Faille and Satin Afternoon Dress-1885
It was common practice during the latter half of the 1800s for women's clothing to be made up in multiple fabrics. The simplest, and most often utilized version of this idea was to pair a textile with a strong pattern with a solid colored one.
This afternoon/walking dress is just what I mean. The material that forms the body of the dress is a densely patterned silk faille with a repeating floral motif on a striped blue ground. The solid is a silk satin in precisely the color of the faille background, which draws the two stuffs together visually. The other reason they work together is that they are both silk fabrics that bear a similar sheen to them.
The 1880s was a period when the bustle made its second, (and final) appearance as a major fashion. Designers have repeatedly referred to it since, but it has never gained the broad acceptance it had.
This dress is also a good example of how they used symmetry and asymmetry together to create visual interest. The base shape of the dress is entirely regular, and in fact rather severe looking to modern eyes. The skirt is a smooth tubular shape. The bodice and sleeves are closely cut. The pleating in the center front is regular on both sides. Everything about the dress itself is about uniformity of structure. The asymmetry is left to the solid silk bustle drapery.
The blue silk draping is a large pleated swag on the left of the skirt, and a similarly sized pouf of material on the right, both disappearing under the huge panel of the blue on the center back. The front of the skirt has an off center gathered tab of fabric that is brought together at the bottom with matching silk ribbons.
The final effect is just enough to keep the whole costume from looking too staid.
This sort of dress would have been perfectly acceptable for both at home entertaining, or for going out shopping, or visiting. It is also, in styling just fashionable enough, without being overly so that it would have been met with smiles by a broad range of people. It communicates a certain affluence, without being loud about it.
It also communicates the sort of visual rectitude that was essential to public life at the time. Any person who wished to be taken seriously would eschew styles that appeared at all silly, or frivolous. It's one of the reasons that so many of the common trimmings of the time were heavy fringes and passementerie that we associate with fussy upholstery now. They gave a gravitas to clothing that was considered correct, that today we would find stultifying.
In the culture of public morality, such clothing was essential to creating the semblance of polite, normal behavior and thought. What happened behind closed doors, quite another matter entirely.
This afternoon/walking dress is just what I mean. The material that forms the body of the dress is a densely patterned silk faille with a repeating floral motif on a striped blue ground. The solid is a silk satin in precisely the color of the faille background, which draws the two stuffs together visually. The other reason they work together is that they are both silk fabrics that bear a similar sheen to them.
The 1880s was a period when the bustle made its second, (and final) appearance as a major fashion. Designers have repeatedly referred to it since, but it has never gained the broad acceptance it had.
This dress is also a good example of how they used symmetry and asymmetry together to create visual interest. The base shape of the dress is entirely regular, and in fact rather severe looking to modern eyes. The skirt is a smooth tubular shape. The bodice and sleeves are closely cut. The pleating in the center front is regular on both sides. Everything about the dress itself is about uniformity of structure. The asymmetry is left to the solid silk bustle drapery.
The blue silk draping is a large pleated swag on the left of the skirt, and a similarly sized pouf of material on the right, both disappearing under the huge panel of the blue on the center back. The front of the skirt has an off center gathered tab of fabric that is brought together at the bottom with matching silk ribbons.
The final effect is just enough to keep the whole costume from looking too staid.
This sort of dress would have been perfectly acceptable for both at home entertaining, or for going out shopping, or visiting. It is also, in styling just fashionable enough, without being overly so that it would have been met with smiles by a broad range of people. It communicates a certain affluence, without being loud about it.
It also communicates the sort of visual rectitude that was essential to public life at the time. Any person who wished to be taken seriously would eschew styles that appeared at all silly, or frivolous. It's one of the reasons that so many of the common trimmings of the time were heavy fringes and passementerie that we associate with fussy upholstery now. They gave a gravitas to clothing that was considered correct, that today we would find stultifying.
In the culture of public morality, such clothing was essential to creating the semblance of polite, normal behavior and thought. What happened behind closed doors, quite another matter entirely.
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