Quantcast
Channel: The Fashion Historian
Viewing all 62 articles
Browse latest View live
↧

Fashion and New Technology

September 3, 2014, 2:33 pm
$
0
0
Fashion has always had a strong relationship with new technology. In the late eighteenth century, looms ran on punch cards to weave complex textile designs-- the very first computing technology. In the nineteenth century, the discovery of synthetic dyes allowed fabrics to take on bright, eye-popping colors. In the twentieth century, an enormous range of textiles made from synthetic materials, each with its own unique benefits, flushed the market. And in the twenty-first century, designers are using 3-D printers to create new and innovative designs.

Fashion has also always had strong ties with the media. New trends need to be disseminated around the world somehow, be it by illustrations, photographs, or film. These days we can log on to youtube and watch the latest runway shows instantly, but the relationship between film and fashion stretches much farther back in time.


Paul Poiret, c. 1913. From the Library of Congress. LC-USZ62-100840.

On October 7, 1913, the Chicago Tribune published an article titled "Poiret Startles Chicago Women." The article begins:

"Seven hundred of the best dressed women of Chicago viewed the oddities of the latest styles of Paul Poiret, 'the high priest of color and the master builder of gowns,' as they strutted across the cinematographic screen at the Blackstone hotel yesterday."

We like to think that videos of fashion shows are a newer invention, yet here were hundreds of women watching one in 1913! Film was still a relatively new technology in the early 1910s, and the movie making industry wouldn't really kick off until the 1920s. Yet it is clear that some were already seeing film's potential. It's fitting that the fashion show on view to the women of Chicago that October day showcased the designs of Paul Poiret, a designer known for his innovation, boldness, and modernity. As the Tribune described Poiret's designs, "The women in the pictures were garbed in raiment wonderful, peculiar, and individual."

A Poiret evening gown, c. 1914. From the Library of Congress. LC-USZ62-85524.

The article continues:
"The spectators gave due attention to each gown, criticizing, studying, praising, wondering. There was ample opportunity for study, for some of the gowns were exhibited several times before the final reel had wound itself up.

"Perhaps the article that brought forth the most exclamations was a huge muff. A circular piece of white ermine ran around the front of it and as the wearer came closer into the camera's focus the comment grew.

"'What is that white circle?' 'Looks like a life preserver.' "No. it's [sic] an automobile tire.' Then the model stood perfectly still and the seven hundred laughed. It was ventured that seven hundred black muffs with white ermine circles will be worn in Chicago this winter.

"There were also a few colored slides showing Poiret's color combinations-- women in blue serge and green trimming, in scarlet and black, in purple and white, in pink with an overdress of white, and in other shades that caused several dressmakers a few gasps of delight."

Some of the restrictions of early film technology are mentioned. The lack of color (later compensated for with colored slides) and low definition left some women slightly confused as to what they were seeing. I love one woman's guess that perhaps Poiret had incorporated a car tire into his design.

I love this article for many reasons. Its description of Poiret's collection is an excellent resource. It highlights how technological advances were used to disseminate fashion information. It reflects the exciting sense of innovation and modernity that colored the twentieth century. But above all it connects us to the people of the past. These women, who lived 101 years ago, are sitting with their friends and commenting on a video of the latest fashions, just as we comment on videos on youtube today. I've written about how I love fashion history because it so closely connects us to the people of the past, and this article is the perfect example.
↧
Search

Historic Influence

November 17, 2014, 11:44 am
$
0
0
(As always, click for full size.)
Left: Elizabeth Banks in Elie Saab Fall 2014 Couture
Top Right: Three robes a la francaise from the Kyoto Costume Institute
Bottom Right: Robe a la francaise, 1755-65, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art

↧
↧

Cinderelly, Cenderelly, Night and day it's Cinderelly

November 21, 2014, 12:49 pm
$
0
0
Just wanted to post a quick note to link to my latest article for Clothes on Film, all about the gorgeous costumes seen in the trailer for Disney's new live action Cinderella. Click this link to read it!

And for those of you fond of the 1950 animated version, check back next week as my next installment in my Exploring the Decades with Disney Princesses series will be posted, focusing on Cinderella.
↧

La Mode à la Girafe

December 7, 2014, 2:04 pm
$
0
0
La mode à la girafe translates to giraffe fashion, that is, fashion inspired by and celebrating giraffes. Or, in the case of late 1820s France, the fashion influence of one very famous giraffe.

Nicolas Hüet, Study of the Giraffe Given to Charles X by the Viceroy of Egypt, 1827. In the collection of the Morgan Library and Museum.

On October 23, 1826 a female giraffe arrived at the port of Marseilles. A gift from Muhammad Ali (1769-1849), the Viceroy of Egypt, to King Charles X of France (r. 1824-1830), this was the first living giraffe ever seen in France. Naturally such a strange and wonderful looking animal caused an enormous sensation. During her six month stay in Marseilles and along her journey to Paris, thousands of people came to view the curious creature. Renown zoologist Étienne Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire wrote that he "had to fight the crowds who rushed tumultuously at the animal." In Lyon, for example, over 30,000 people came to see her.

Jean-Jacques Feuchère, "Encore des Ridicules, No. 1,035: Les Girafes à la mode," c. 1826. In the collection of the Musée Carnavalet.

On June 30, 1827, the giraffe arrived in Paris to much fanfare and took up residence in the Jardin de Plantes, the world's first national menagerie. In the following months she would have an audience with the royal family, several important dignitaries, and be seen by hundreds of thousands of people. On July 12th, 1827 La Pandore reported that "the giraffe occupies all the public's attention; one talks of nothing else in the circles of the capital."

Henri-Daniel Plattel, Les Quartiers de Paris/Jardin des Plantes, c. 1827. In the collection of the Musée Carnavalet.

Naturally everyone wished to cash in on the giraffe craze. This one exotic animal inspired thousands of prints, sheet music, toys, pamphlets, and a play, and was used to sell fashion, textiles, wallpaper, ceramics, and even food. La mode à la girafe swept the nation! It should be noted that this giraffe was not the first exotic animal to inspire fashion. In 1749 there was the mode au rhinocéros [rhinoceros] and in 1786 there was the mode au zèbre [zebra].

Fashion plate from Les Journal des Dames et des Modes, July 8, 1827. In the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Yellow took on a new popularity. The Petit Courrier reported in September 1827 that "the color 'giraffe,' which is simply a kind of yellowish color, which one would have called café au lait a few years ago, is now often used for belts, workbags, and even for some dresses." And in October of the same year the Journal des Dames reported that the shade known as "belly of giraffe" was an extremely popular color. In general many fashion magazines described numerous items as being giraffe-yellow.


Detail of block-printed furnishing fabric, 1826-30. In the collection of the Musée de l'Impression sur Étoffes, Mulhouse.

It was not only the color of the giraffe that infiltrated fashion. Belt ribbons, bags, and fans were all decorated with images of giraffes and charms, pins, necklaces, cravat pins, bracelets, and cane toppers were all manufactured in the shape of a giraffe. Printed cottons, used for furnishing and dress, also bore the image of the famous animal.

Illustration from L'Art de mettre sa cravate de toutes le manières connues et usitées by Baron Émile de l'Empesé, c. 1827. In the collection of the Royal Ontario Museum.

Types of dress and even hair were inspired by the giraffe as well. Fashion historian Michele Majer describes sleevesà la girafe: "The fullness [of the sleeves] was partialy controlled by a strip of matching fabric wound twice around the arm from just above the elbow to the wrist." The coiffure à la girafe, although not much different than typical hairstyles of the day, was also mentioned in fashion periodicals. La mode à la girafe was not only for women. L'Art de mettre sa cravate de toutes le manières connues et usitées illustrated a cravat à la girafe which featured the knot placed low on the high collar and the ends hanging vertically, invoking the long neck of the giraffe.

An example of another object inspired by the giraffe-- a teapot and heater stand from c. 1827. In the collection of the Musée Carnavalet.

These are just a few of the hundreds of objects and fashion trends attributed to the giraffe. However, the story of this fashionable giraffe has a rather sad ending. As fads do, la mode à la girafe quickly passed away and newer sensations took its place. After the initial excitement of seeing such an exotic animal, most forgot about the giraffe and few came to visit her at the Jardin de Plantes. By 1830 she had completely faded into obscurity. She died in 1845.




Further Reading:

Allin, Michael. Zarafa: A Giraffe's True Story, from Deep in Africa to the Heart of Paris. New York: Walker and Company, 1998.

Majer, Michele. "La Mode à la girafe: Fashion, Culture, and Politics in Bourbon Restoration France." Studies in Decorative Arts 17:1 (Fall-Winter 2009-10): 123-161.
↧

Exploring the Decades with Disney Princesses: Cinderella

December 17, 2014, 4:30 am
$
0
0
Part 1: Snow White from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)

As a fashion historian, I find that an interesting aspect of Disney is how the animated features serve as records of the visual culture of their day. The Disney Princesses, a successful sub-franchise launched by Disney in the late 1990s, are everywhere these days. They have not been without controversy, but they are certainly popular. They are also records of changing standards of beauty for women in the 20th century. This post series will discuss selected Disney Princesses, exploring how they embody the ideals of femininity of their time.

Cinderella from Cinderella (1950)


The next Disney Princess to arrive after Snow White was Cinderella, who appeared in a new animated musical released in 1950. Cinderella was Walt Disney studio's most successful animated feature film since Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) and received three Academy Award nominations. The story was adapted from the Charles Perrault version of the fairy tail, first published in 1697. Preparation for the film began in 1948. Helene Stanley served as the live action model for Cinderella and acted out many of the sequences in the film which the animators then studied and translated into drawn animations (Fun Fact: Stanley also served as the live action model for Anastasia, one of Cinderella's ugly stepsisters).

Live action models being filmed and their animated counterparts.
But how does Cinderella's appearance reflect the aesthetics of the late 1940s and early 1950s? Simply look at fashion illustrations of the period and you'll see that Cinderella fits right in with the illustrated fashion models. As I discussed in my Snow White post, fashion illustrations are a great source for looking at ideals of beauty because a drawing can convey ideal aesthetics in a way a real human body cannot. Furthermore, fashion illustration also takes a cue from dominant artistic trends of the period, showing broader visual influences.

Far Left: 1949 Illustration from a pattern insert in the Philadelphia Inquirer.Source.
Far Right: Advertisement from 1949. 

While the setting of the film is ostensibly the late Victorian period, Cinderella is firmly a mid-20th-century beauty. She has a slim figure with a small bust, narrow hips, and a nipped in waist-- the ideal figure of the late 1940s/early 1950s woman. Her various dresses give the sense of a historic look while still fitting in with mid-century aesthetics. Her servant outfit has a form fitting top and narrow A-line skirt which falls to just below the knees, a look that fits right in with fashions of the day. Both of her ballgowns feature a form fitting bodice, slight emphasis on the shoulders, and a full skirt. The emphasis on wide, sculpted shoulders is a hallmark of women's fashion of the 1940s, which embraced more masculine styles. In the 1950s a more feminine silhouette took over, so with Cinderella we see a good illustration of the transition between these two aesthetics. 


Left: "Shades of Picasso" dress by Gilbert Adrian, 1944-45. In the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Right: Dior "Junon" dress, fall/winter 1949-50. In the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The full skirts of her ballgowns are also nods to women's fashions of the late 1940s/early 1950s. In America during World War II, restrictions were placed on how much fabric could be used for a woman's evening gown as the government needed to reserve fabric for use by the military. After the war ended in 1945, those restrictions were lifted and women's skirts ballooned out. Compare the two gowns above, one made during WWII (left) and one made during the period when Cinderella was being animated (right). And then compare them to the image of Cinderella's magical ballgown in the middle.

Left: Barbara Stanwyck in Double Indemnity, 1944.
Right: Advertisement for Catalina Swimsuits in Seventeen Magazine, 1949. Source.

Cinderella's facial features also conform with mid-century ideals. She has shoulder length blonde hair and short, curled bangs, a fashionable hairstyle for the late 1940s. And her oval face, full lips, softly curved eyebrows, and almond-shaped eyes with full eyelashes are mirrored in the fashion illustrations of the period.

With Cinderella we see the very beginning of the 1950s. Our next Disney princess will look at the end of that decade-- stay tuned for Sleeping Beauty!
↧
↧

Coiffure à la [Fill in the Blank]

December 28, 2014, 4:00 am
$
0
0
One of the most famous and persistent images of the eighteenth century is a woman with an enormous tall wig decorated with ribbons, feathers, and all manner of figurines. Known as the pouf, this tall hairstyle is often cited as a visual representation of the excess of the 18th century. But these tall hairstyles were not just an example of extreme elite fashion. Often times these hairstyles were an expression of patriotism, politics, and the latest trends in culture. Today we may express our personalities and taste by wearing a T-shirt bearing the image of our favorite band, sports team, or the flag of our country. In the late 18th century, aristocratic women did the same thing using their hair.

Anonymous, Coëffure à l’Indépendance ou le Triomphe de la liberté, c. 1778. In the collection of the Musée franco-américain du château de Blérancourt.

Probably the most famous of these coiffures [hairstyles] is the hairstyle featuring a model ship. These ship headdresses appear in numerous illustrations of the period and continue to influence contemporary fashion. I even donned one of them myself. In late 18th century France, these nautical headdresses were expressions of patriotism and political engagement. The first was the coiffure à la Belle Poule and celebrated a famous French naval victory against the British during the American Revolution. During the Battle of Ushant on July 27, 1778, the French ship Belle Poule badly damaged the British frigate Arethusa. To celebrate this victory for the cause of American independence and express French patriotism, women adorned their hair with small models of the Belle Poule. Other famous naval battles were similarly memorialized. The coiffure à la Frégate la Junon celebrated another famous French frigate, and the chapeaux [hat] à la Grenade and à la d'Estaing celebrated the French victory at the Battle of Granada led by Admiral d'Estaing.

Another politically inspired coiffure was the coiffure à l'inoculation which was commissioned by Marie Antoinette to celebrate the successful inoculation of Louis XVI against smallpox. While smallpox inoculations were common in Austria (Marie Antoinette's birthplace), they were less popular in France and Louis XV died of smallpox. Louis XVI was inoculated against the disease at the urging of Marie Antoinette but it was a risky move. Many were suspicious of the procedure, labeling it "dangerous", and urged the king not to go through with it. When Louis XVI was successfully inoculated and given a clean bill of health it was a major political victory for Marie Antoinette, and she celebrated her victory with a coiffure featuring the serpent belonging to Aesculapius, the Ancient Greek god of medicine, wrapped around an olive tree (symbolizing wisdom).

A coiffure au sentiment.

Other coiffures celebrated topical cultural themes or personal events. A coiffure au sentiment expressed a feeling while a coiffure à la circonstance celebrated an important event. The coiffure à l'Iphigénie celebrated the popular opera Iphigénie en Aulide (1774) by Christoph Willibald Gluck. In an age of global exploration and trade, the theme of the different ares of the globe was often represented in fashion and textiles. The coiffure à la Mappemonde was a hairstyle showing the five parts of the globe. The pastoral was also another extremely popular theme throughout the eighteenth century and many coiffures were commissioned with this theme in mind. A coiffure au jardiniere worn by Marie Antoinette featured a vegetable garden with carrots, radishes, artichokes, and even a head of cabbage. And the Duchesse de Choiseul once wore "a three-foot-high pouf that replicated a verdant garden, replete with flowers, grass, a bubbling stream, and a tiny windmill edged with jewels and powered by a clockwork mechanism that Louis XVI himself might have admired." Other coiffures were more personal. To celebrate the birth of her son, the Duchesse de Chartres wore a coiffure featuring her African page and pet parrot as well as a nursemaid nursing a newborn baby.

Satirical print showing a coiffure au jardiniere complete with the tiny figure of a man going for a stroll. "The Flower Garden" by Matthew Darly, May 1, 1777. In the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Of course these hairstyles were ripe for satirizing and many prints were published poking fun at these elaborate coiffures.

Satire of the chapeaux à la d'Estaing showing Admiral d'Estaing himself perched on a lady's head. Anonymous, La Nimphe … parée d’une Frisure à la Grenade sur laquelle elle porte son fameux marin au milieu de ses Triomphe, 1779. In the collection of the Bibliothèque nationale de France.

What would you don on your own coiffure?




Further Reading

Chrisman-Campbell, Kimberly. "When Fashion Set Sail." Published on Worn Through, March 20, 2013.

Weber, Caroline. Queen of Fashion: What Marie Antoinette Wore to the Revolution. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 2006.
↧

Embroidery Samples at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

February 9, 2015, 12:33 am
$
0
0
Any visitor to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City should stop by Gallery 599 on their tour of the museum. It's a small gallery, to get there you simply descend a small flight of stairs tucked away in the back corner of one of the large medieval galleries. Gallery 599 is located by the door to the Ratti Textile Center, which houses all of the textiles in The Met's collections. A rotating exhibition showcasing small samplings of The Met's textiles is featured in the display cases surrounding the door to the Ratti Textile Center. It's a quick pitstop on your tour of the museum and always well worth a visit as you get to see some rarely viewed textile treasures.

Embroidery sample for a man's suit, 1800–1815. French. Silk embroidery on silk velvet; L. 13 1/4 x W. 11 1/8 in. (33.7 x 28.3 cm). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Gift of The United Piece Dye Works, 1936 (36.90.15)

Currently on view in Gallery 599, from now until July 17th, is Elaborate Embroidery: Fabrics for Menswear Before 1815. As explained in the press release, "This installation features lengths of fabric for an unmade man's suit and waistcoat, as well as a selection of embroidery samples for fashionable menswear made between about 1760 and 1815."

While I was in graduate school I was lucky enough to intern in the Department of European Sculpture and Decorative Arts at The Met, where I worked with a number of textiles housed in the Ratti Textile Center. This included about 99% of the embroidery samples in The Met's collection. There are hundreds and hundreds of them, and most are quite small and are rarely exhibited. So I was quite pleased to see that some are getting their moment in the spotlight in this small exhibition. Including the sample pictured above, which dates to 1800-1815 (Fun Fact: A picture I took of this sample is currently the background on my phone).

Just from this picture alone, you can see that this is a truly spectacular piece of craftsmanship. The detailed embroidery renders exquisitely detailed flowers as the main motif, and the white border features tiny and meticulous stitches which resemble lace. But just a picture doesn't tell the full story of this textile.

Embroidery sample for a man's suit, 1800–1815. French. Silk embroidery on silk velvet; L. 13 1/4 x W. 11 1/8 in. (33.7 x 28.3 cm). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Gift of The United Piece Dye Works, 1936 (36.90.15). Photo by Katy Werlin.

Look closely at the textile on which the embroidery is done (click the image for a bigger size if you need to). The pattern is made from three colors: a deep purple background surrounding flowers of orange and a lighter purple. What's difficult to see in the picture is that the deep purple background is actually a rich silk velvet. The flowers have been created while the textile was still on the loom. As it was being woven, small sections were woven without any pile (pile is what makes velvet fuzzy), revealing the base fabric underneath. This type of velvet is called voided velvet. The weave of this textile is incredibly complex, and clearly took a great deal of skill to manufacture. And on top of what is already an extraordinary piece of work, the detailed embroidery is added.

Note the dimensionality this mix of textures adds. The lustrous silk embroidery seems to float over the matte velvet. And the soft texture of the velvet contrasts with the slightly ridged pattern of the weave underneath, making the small orange and purple flower shapes pop. I have never run my fingers over this textile, but I imagine the mix of textures would be interesting to the touch as well.

I don't know if a full suit was ever created based on the design featured in this sample (If it had it would have been extremely expensive and luxurious!). Fortunately for all of us, at least this small sample has survived. It, and others like it, show us not only the luxury of menswear in the 18th and early 19th centuries, but also the extraordinary talent, creativity, and ingenuity of textile manufacturers in history. Many of their names are not known today, but their work lives on and is honored through the study and exhibiting of textiles such as these.
↧

MythBusters: Fashion History Edition

March 21, 2015, 2:37 pm
$
0
0
Myth: Fashionable eighteenth-century ladies shaved off their eyebrows and used false eyebrows made of mouse fur.

Grace Dalrymple Elliot by Thomas Gainsborough, c. 1778. Private Collection. Are those eyebrows made of mice?
This is a common myth about eighteenth-century beauty that I have read in many books, some reliable sources of fashion history information and some not. But, when doing historical research, it's always best to go back to the primary sources. Primary sources are sources of information produced in the actual time period, such as a letter, newspaper article, or painting. As this excellent article from The British Library shows, the primary source evidence for mouse-skin eyebrows is thin. The following are all the sources which mention mouse-skin eyebrows, arranged in chronological order.

A section from The Tender Husband, a comedic play by Richard Steele, 1707:

Mrs. Clerimont: The Ladies abroad used to call me Mrs. Titian, I was so famous for my colouring; but prithee. Wench, bring me my black eye-brows out of the next room.

Jenny: Madam, I have them in my hand.

Fainlove: It would be happy for all that are to see you today, if you could change your eyes too.

Mrs. Clerimont: Gallant enough -- no hang it, I'll wear these I have on...
A satirical poem by Matthew Prior, 1718:
HELEN was just dipt into bed
Her eye-brows on the toilet lay
Away the kitten with them fled
As fees belonging to her prey

For this misfortune careless Jane,
Assure yourself, was loudly rated
And madam, getting up again,
With her own hand the mouse-trap baited.

On little things, as sages write,
Depends our human joy or sorrows
If we don't catch a mouse to-night
Alas! no eyebrows for to-morrow.

A section from A Beautiful Young Nymph Going to Bed by noted satirist Jonathan Swift, 1734:
Her eyebrows from a mouse's hide
Stuck on with art on either side,
Pulls off with care, and first displays 'em
Then in a play-books smoothly lays 'em.

A short section of an anonymous poem published in the London Daily Post in June 1736:
Or Nightly Traps insidious lay,
To catch new Eye-brows for the Day
The next primary source example mentioning mouse-skin eyebrows doesn't appear until 1782.

Satirical print dated June 18, 1782. In the collection of the British Museum.
This print shows two ladies arriving at a cosmetics shop. The sign on the door advertises the products within, including "Italian washes, Ivory teeth, Mouse Eye Brows, and the Best French Roush."

And that's it. Many beauty treatises were published in the eighteenth century with tips on hair care and recipes for cosmetics. One of the most famous today is The Toilet of Flora by Pierre-Joseph Buc'hoz, published in 1779. There were also several works written about wigmaking, cosmetics, and beauty. Finally, throughout the century satirists and critics lampooned women and their beauty practices. None of these sources (at least the ones we can access today) mention mouse-skin eyebrows. There are no tips for the application and storage of mouse-skin eyebrows in beauty manuals. There are no mentions of mouse-skin eyebrows in informational texts about the cosmetic industry. And, perhaps most tellingly, there are no accounts of women using mouse-skin eyebrows in satirical texts beyond the ones listed above. The satire industry was large and booming during the eighteenth century and it seems strange that, in all the texts and images poking fun at women and their artificiality, there are no mentions of mouse-skin eyebrows (once again, apart from what is listed above). That would seem to be an item ripe for satirizing.

How then to explain the few mentions of mouse-skin eyebrows listed above? The earliest mention is the scene from the play by Richard Steele where Mrs. Clerimont prepares herself for the day. It should be noted that this play is a comedy, meaning the characters are heightened for comedic effect. Mrs. Clerimont is insecure, stating just before the exchange quoted above:

"... Oh bless me Jenny, I am so plane [sic], I am afraid of myself -- I have not laid on half red [rouge- blush and lipstick] enough -- what a dogh-baked [sic] thing I was before I improved myself, and travelled for beauty -- however my face is prettily designed to day [sic]."

In this quote Mrs. Clerimont complains that she is, in reality, very ugly, and it is only through the improvements of cosmetics that she becomes a beauty. The character of Fainlove agrees, replying:

"Indeed, madam you begin to have so fine an hand, that you are younger every day than the other."

Here Fainlove compliments Mrs. Clerimont, telling her that she has become so talented at applying make up that she seems younger every day. In this context, Mrs. Clerimont is an object of ridicule and her use of mouse-skin eyebrows may just be one of her ridiculous methods of beautifying herself. They might just be unique eccentricities created for comedic value on the stage.

The other sources, such as the poem by Matthew Prior, have a similar purpose as Steele's play. They are meant to poke fun at the ridiculous methods women use to make themselves beautiful, and eyebrows made of mouse fur fit right in with that context. In Jonathan Swift's poem, his titular nymph is lampooned for a series of beauty failings. She has a "crystal eye", false teeth, and a flea-infested wig. She is clearly a caricature. After all, we don't use this poem as evidence that all women had false eyes and teeth.

However, just because there is no concrete evidence of mouse-skin eyebrows doesn't mean it wasn't a trend. Perhaps these satirical texts truly were referring to a fashion trend popular in the first decades of the century, which then faded from popularity. But the overwhelming lack of evidence places doubt on this conclusion.

Where does that leave this myth?

A Woman in Blue by Thomas Gainsborough, late 1770s-early 1780s. In the collection of The State Hermitage Museum. With some clipart additions of my own.

I have no definite conclusion. The evidence is thin, and I personally think that the use of mouse-skin eyebrows is unlikely, but with no definitive evidence I can't make a conclusion either way. Was Steele's play an influence on subsequent mentions of mouse-skin eyebrows? Was this some sort of recurring joke? I end with this Very Academic Statement: Clearly much more research needs to be done!
↧
Search

Book Review: Fashion Victims: Dress at the Court of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette

March 28, 2015, 5:00 am
$
0
0

Fashion Victims: Dress at the Court of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette
by Kimberly Chrisman-Campbell
Yale University Press


"Fashion, which its detractors have called slight, inconstant, fickle, and frivolous, is, however, fixed in its principles... We see how constant it is in seizing all remarkable events, adapting them, recording them in its annals, IMMORTALIZING them in memory."
~ Cabinet des modes, ou Les Modes nouvelles, 1786

"The dissemination of fashions follows the dissemination of ideas, and sometimes drives it."
~ Kimberly Chrisman-Campbell


Fashion Victims: Dress at the Court of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette is the first book by fashion historian Kimberly Chrisman-Campbell. Lavishly illustrated and filled with fascinating information, this book is definitely a worthwhile investment for anyone who is interested in fashion history or the eighteenth century. Fashion Victims explores one of the most infamous periods in fashion history, the reign of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette at the end of the eighteenth century. Chrisman-Campbell discusses the extravagant and inventive fashions which reigned supreme in the decades before the French Revolution, as well as the important role fashion took during the turbulent Revolutionary years. As the press release truthfully states, "The absorbing narrative demonstrates fashion’s crucial role as a visible and versatile medium for social commentary, and shows the glittering surface of 18th-century high society as well as its seedy underbelly."

Fashion Victims is divided into four main sections, "Court and City", "New and Novel", "Fashion and Fantasy", and "Revolution and Recovery". Within these sections is a comprehensive look at the French fashion industry, with all of it's quirks and inventiveness. We learn about the politics of fashion, the influence of the court, the rising domination of women within the fashion industry, and the myriad of popular fads which swept fashion and popular culture. This wealth of information is accompanied by large, full-color images of paintings, fashion plates and illustrations, and extant garments from the period. Fashion is by it's nature a visual medium, so the addition of so many images is particularly helpful in fully understanding all of the information presented.

It's difficult to pick a favorite part of this book, but I particularly enjoyed Part III: Fashion and Fantasy. This section starts with an excellent quote from the Magasin des modes nouvelles: 
"We have prepared, almost without thinking about it, materials for the historian who is bored with reading newspapers. She will find, in a hat, a monument to the conqueror of Grenada, a single ribbon will teach her that the nephew of Tipoo-Saïb crossed the seas to become acquainted with this France which kings visit." 
This quote not only perfectly summarizes what a rich historical source fashion can be, but also the importance and prevalence of topical trends in fashion. To the untrained eye much of fashion history seems like a lot of the same. But through little details such as the style of a hat or design on a ribbon, we can see that, just like today, fashion was constantly changing in response to what was happening in politics, the arts, the economy, technology, philosophy, and popular culture. This section of Fashion Victims decodes some of those small details, revealing a few of the myriad of trends which influenced style. The subsection "Fashions a l'Américaine" explores fashions influenced by the politics of the American Revolution in the 1770s and 1780s and famous Americans who visited France such as Benjamin Franklin. Another subsection, "Figaro and Fashion" looks at the extraordinary impact the 1784 play, Le Mariage de Figaro, by Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais had on fashion.

There are many books on this period in history, and Fashion History stands up as a worthy addition to the canon. It is an excellent addition to the bookshelf for both the scholar and those with a more casual interest in history.


Stay tuned for an exclusive interview with author Kimberly Chrisman-Campbell, coming next week!!

With many thanks to Yale University Press for the review copy of this book.
↧
↧

Interview with Fashion Victims Author Kimberly Chrisman-Campbell

May 7, 2015, 9:46 am
$
0
0
Dr. Kimberly Chrisman-Campbell recently published her first book, Fashion Victims: Dress at the Court of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. After looking through this lavish text, I wanted to know a bit more about how this book came together. What is the story behind the story? Find out in my exclusive interview below!


Can you tell me a bit about the process of writing this book. How did you first come up with the idea for the content? Were there any interesting places that your research took you?

There have been a lot of good books on eighteenth-century fashion, but most of them cover just that: the whole eighteenth century, from 1700 to 1799, as if fashion followed a linear progression with a beginning, middle, and end. The Louis XVI period--from 1774 to 1793--was so different from everything that came before and after, socially and sartorially. I felt like it deserved a book of its own. Partly because of the French Revolution and partly because of the nature of fashion and collecting, objects from the period have ended up all over the place. My research took me to France, of course, but it also took me to museums and archives in Sweden, Canada, England, Scotland, and Austria. If I'd had the time and funding, I would have added Russia and Portugal to that list. The strangest place I found myself was the ornithology department of the Royal Ontario Museum, where a specialist helped me identify the feathers embroidered on a robe parée supposedly made for Marie-Antoinette with the help of a vast collection of dead birds.


One of the joys of looking through museum collections and archives is discovering hidden treasure that you didn’t know of which really help your research. Were there any of those moments?

So many of those moments! The hardest part is knowing when to stop, because there's always going to be another amazing portrait or document or garment lurking somewhere if you just keep looking. One that stands out is the Revolutionary waistcoat in LACMA's collection; I came across it very late in my research and now I can't imagine the book without it. There's a Figaro costume at FIDM that I wish I'd included, but I didn't know about it until too late. Sometimes you have to publish first in order to find these things; there's an alms purse in the book that I was able to have photographed at the last minute because a curator friend read my article on alms purses in PieceWork and realized she had one in her collection! It's the only one I've ever seen that has a solid provenance; they're usually cataloged as gambling purses, because they're identical except in how they were used. 


What were some of the challenges and rewards of publishing a book?

I loved every minute of the research and writing process, but the road to publication was slow and frustrating. Something I've learned is to start with the images and work backwards. You don't want to get to the end of writing a book or an article and then discover you can't use the images you need, because the publisher is only going to let you have three illustrations or because the rights are unavailable or unaffordable. I learned a lot, however, and I could not be happier with the way the book turned out in the end.

(For more information on Dr. Chrisman-Campbell's publishing journey, click here!)


There are many books written about this period in history, including a wide range of fashion history texts. What do you think makes your book stand out?

I'm a stickler for primary sources. There are a lot of fun myths about Marie-Antoinette floating around, but the truth is far more interesting, and you have to go back to eyewitness accounts to find it. Anything written in aftermath of the Revolution tends to be revisionist history. Also, I think I'm the first person to look at the French émigré fashion industry, which was hugely important to the development of European fashion in the 1790s and early 1800s. Finally, my book has 220 illustrations! I made a conscious effort to include a balance of paintings, prints, fashion plates, and objects, including textiles and decorative arts as well as garments and accessories. Many of them have never been published before.


What is the biggest myth about Marie Antoinette that you’d like dispelled?

She probably never wore a ship on her head, but if she had, it would not have been controversial at all! Personally, I don't think she was as much of an innovator as she's been given credit for. Although I'm generally sympathetic to her, I find her a bit boring; women like Rose Bertin and the stylish Duchesse de Chartes were the true trendsetters. Marie-Antoinette was a little like Princess Diana: young, pretty, rich, and extremely famous, but not exactly cutting-edge in her fashion choices. As queen, she couldn't afford to be. Even her riskiest fashion statement, a chemise gown with a straw hat, had been worn by Madame Du Barry two years earlier.


When people ask me why I love the eighteenth century so much I never know where to start. So I’ve ended up just saying “The wand chooses the wizard” to avoid a five hour speech on why the eighteenth century is my great passion in life. So, with the knowledge that this is an impossible question to answer, why do you love the eighteenth century?

I love your answer! I could name a hundred reasons, but I think it all boils down to the irresistible allure of big hair and puffy shirts and skirts. It's the most extreme, inventive, over-the-top period in fashion history; it's the Formula One of fashion.


If you lived in the late eighteenth century, what fashion trend would you embrace with relish? For me, it’s putting ships on my head!

I've done that, and I don't even live in the late eighteenth century! The coiffure à la Belle Poule is practically a character in my book; I'm obsessed with it. And I'd have the biggest hoop petticoat in town. I love how women took up so much more space back then. It made them impossible to ignore.


Do you have any pet periods of history?

For the past few years I've been working on American fashion of the 1960s and 70s, and it's a whole different kind of research, with entirely new types of source material--including oral histories, sketches, photographs, and even film--as well as new challenges. It's a fascinating period that has a lot in common with the eighteenth century in terms of massive political and social upheaval reflected in fashion.


What’s next for you? Can you write a million more books please?

I'd love to! I have a couple of books in progress, with no publication date in sight: one on a subject closely related to Fashion Victims and one not related at all. I will never get tired of the eighteenth century, but it's nice to visit other time periods once in a while. I also wrote an essay on Marie Antoinette's shoes for the Victoria & Albert Museum exhibition catalog Shoes: Pleasure and Pain, which will be published in June. I'm an occasional contributor to TheAtlantic.com, Slate.com, and Ornament Magazine, and I just started writing the FIDM Museum blog.


Do you have any advice for aspiring fashion historians?

Join the Costume Society of America! It's a great way to keep up with new research, make connections, and make friends.


Dr. Kimberly Chrisman-Campbell is an art historian specializing in fashion and textiles. She has worked as a curator, consultant, and educator for museums and universities around the world. She is a frequent contributor to books, scholarly journals, and magazines, as well as an experienced lecturer. Her areas of expertise include European fashion and textiles and French and British painting and decorative arts of the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries
↧

Printed Textiles in Eighteenth-Century America

July 7, 2015, 2:33 pm
$
0
0
It's Textile Month here on The Fashion Historian! Each week this month we'll be bringing you a textile themed post. This week, learn about printed textiles in eighteenth-century America!


Printed cotton celebrating American Independence, ca. 1785. Designed by Henry Gardiner and made in Southeast England. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 46.106.1

Printed textiles were extremely popular for both clothing and home furnishing throughout the eighteenth century. The most commonly used fabric for printed patterns was cotton, although linen and silk could be printed as well. Printed textiles were first imported to Europe from India in the early seventeenth century and quickly became an important luxury item. By the eighteenth century, printed textiles were accessible to all classes of society. In America, printed cottons were especially popular because the cotton fabric was well suited for the warmer climate and could withstand multiple washings, making it ideal for the working classes.


Printed cotton ensemble, c. 1770s-1780s. Mode Museum, Antwerp.

North America, in particular the British colonies, was an extremely important market for the printed textile trade. Cotton was a major crop in the American south and the exportation and production of cotton materials became an important factor of in the growth and development of American industry and the economy. Fashionable printed cottons were also readily available to Americans because of European politics. Due to their popularity printed cottons were seen as a threat to the domestic textile industries of France and England. From 1686-1759, the production and wearing of cotton was banned in France to promote the silk industry. And from 1721-1774 the importation and domestic production of printed cottons was banned in England to promote the wool industry. However, exportation of printed cottons in England was not banned, and so the British continued to produce printed cottons to send to America.


Un atelier de couturières en Arles, by Antoine Raspal, c. 1785. Musée Réattu. Note that each seamstress is wearing an outfit made of printed cotton.

An enormous variety of patterns were available for purchase, from simple shapes such as stripes or scallops to detailed renderings of scenes from the latest opera. The earliest printed textiles, used for home furnishing, featured colorful and stylized renderings of exotic flora and fauna. These floral motifs fed into the Western craze for Orientalism, a fascination with the cultures of the East which influenced popular culture and the decorative arts. As printed cottons became big business, designers in India adapted traditional Eastern motifs to be appealing to European tastes. European designers similarly adapted Eastern motifs in their own designs, creating a global exchange of aesthetic ideas. As the eighteenth century progressed these floral printed cottons were often used for fashionable informal dress. As pictured in the images above, women often mixed and matched differently patterned bodices, skirts, and fichus (shawls) to create a vibrant outfit.


Les Travaux de la Manufacture (The Factory in Operation), 1783-84. Printed cotton designed by Jean Baptiste Huet and manufactured at the Oberkampf Manufactory in Jouy, France. The Art Institute of Chicago, 1953.306. This is a printed cotton depicting the manufacture of printed cottons!

Figural patterns, often with a topical subject matter, rose to prominence in the second half of the eighteenth century and were often used for home furnishing. These large textiles often featured multiple vignettes on one piece, all corresponding to one overarching theme. The inspiration for figural printed textiles came from a wide variety of subject matter. Ancient mythology, pastoral fantasies, politics, and contemporary popular culture such as operas and novels all inspired printed textiles. The wide range of prints allowed the consumer to express their cultural and political acumen, as well as their personal tastes and interests. Prints depicting important political figures and events demonstrated allegiance to specific political ideals or governments. Prints depicting scenes from the newest opera demonstrated the consumer’s taste and engagement in high culture. Prints also reflected the different aesthetics of the age. Scenes of contemporary life were popular mid-century at the height of the rococo, while classical themes became very popular at the end of the century with the rise of neoclassicism.

Quilt Center, ca. 1790. Printed cotton, designed by John Hewson and made in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2005.284.

One of the most famous American printed cotton designers was John Hewson (1744-1821). Hewson was born in England and worked for Talwin and Foster, a leading English textile print works. In 1774 he immigrated to America and opened a printed textile factory in Pennsylvania near the Delaware River. His work became celebrated throughout the new country and the quality rivaled textiles produced in Europe. On July 4, 1788 a parade was held in Philadelphia to celebrate the signing of the Declaration of Independence. In the procession was a large carriage celebrating the American textile industry, with Hewson and his family representing printed cottons. A newspaper reported:
“Behind the looms, was fixed the apparatus of Mr. Hewson, printing muslins of an elegant chintz pattern, and Mr. Lang designing and cutting prints for shawls; on the right were seated Mrs. Hewson and her four daughters, penciling a piece of very neat sprigg’d chintz of Mr. Hewson’s printing; all dressed in cottons of their own manufacture; on the back part of the carriage, on a lofty staff, was displayed the calico printers’ flag; in the centre, thirteen stars in a blue field, and thirteen red stripes in a white field; round the edges of the flag were printed thirty-seven different prints of various colours (one of them a very elegant bed furniture chintz of six colours) as specimens of printing done at Philadelphia.”
As you can see, printed textiles are much more than simple fabric. They are an important symbol of global trade and cultural exchange in the early modern period and they are intimately connected to the politics in Europe and America. Thus they make a perfect lens through which to view the eighteenth-century Western world.




For more information on printed textiles in America, keep an eye out for Clothing and Fashion: American Fashion from Head to Toe, available in November. I penned the entry on printed textiles in Volume 1 (17th and 18th centuries)!
↧

Art Deco Textiles in America Part 1: Africana Prints and Non-Western Influences

July 15, 2015, 4:12 am
$
0
0
It's Textile Month here on The Fashion Historian! Each week this month we'll be bringing you a textile themed post. This week, in Part 1 of a two-part series, learn about how the art of non-Western cultures influenced the explosion of American textile design in the 1920s!



Safari silk titled "Kando" or "Samburu" by Belding-Heminway Co., 1930. Newark Museum, New Jersey. This print depicts African warriors standing behind shields.

In the early twentieth century America had grown a strong industrial business but it had no design aesthetic it could truly call it's own. That would all change in the 1920s when American textile design came into it's own, reflecting an exciting new era of modernism in the country. The search for a uniquely American style began during World War I. American textile designers had traditionally looked towards France for all things fashion, but with France embroiled in a war those European sources of inspiration were cut off. American designers thus began to look for a new, uniquely American aesthetic. As Susan L. Hannel writes, "World War I made the American people realize how dependent they were on Europe for the arts, but jazz music and skyscrapers were the beginning of America's recognition of its own potential for artistic contributions."


Printed silk by the Stehli Silks Corp. titled "Americana Print: Mayan", designed by Charles B. Falls, 1925. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 27.150.7. Photo by Katy Werlin. This textile pattern was inspired by ancient Mayan art.

One of the major leaders in this search for an American style was Morris De Camp Crawford, a design editor of Women's Wear and an honorary research assistant in textiles for the American Museum of Natural History. Along with Women's Wear editor E. W. Fairchild and Albert Blum, treasurer of the United Piece Dye Works, Crawford began to explore new sources of inspiration for American textile designers. The goal was to end the dependence on French designs and create a new, American aesthetic. To that end, Crawford turned to the ethnographic collections in museums. He approached several museums who were thrilled at the idea of opening up their collections to textile designers for inspiration, and this movement produced a flood of textiles with designed inspired by the art of non-Western cultures. Crawford himself was particularly enamored with the "primitive art" of the New World, and many designers were inspired by artifacts from ancient South American cultures and Native Americans.



Stela Fragment with Glyphs, made in Mexico by the Maya culture, 4th-9th century. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1978.412.75.

Seated Figure, made in the Federated States of Micronesia, Caroline Islands by the Satawan culture, late 19th-early 20th century. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2003.8.

Tunic, made in Peru by the Moche-Wari culture, 7th-9th century. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1987.394.706.

Frog Pendant, made in Costa Rica by the Chiriqui culture, 11th-16th century. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1991.419.1.

Prestige Panel from the Kuba culture in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Sankuru River region, 20th century. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2001.271.1.

The art of non-Western cultures was well suited to the Art Deco aesthetic popular in the 1920s and 1930s. The Art Deco style is a pared down aesthetic, featuring simple and clean lines with repeating shapes and gradations. Consider this highly graphic design style and compare it to the objects above. Although these all come from non-Western cultures and many are hundreds of years old, they could all easily fit in with early twentieth-century American aesthetic ideals.


Textile patterns by Mallison and Co. published in American Silk Journal, 1931. The patterns are, from top, left to right: Temple of Angkor, Togo, Madagar, Marrakech, Timbuktu, New Caledonia, and Ubanghi.
  "BARBARIC THEMES IN NEW SEASON SILKS"


Another major figure in the search for an American aesthetic was Ethel Traphagan, head of Ethel Traphagan's School of Design. In March 1929 the American Silk Journal praised her innovation:
"[She was] forever doing notable things to gain for the textile and other industries of her own country, independence int he art of fashioning women's wear and other articles of domestic use, ahd more in mind than merely creating the African silk motif, which has recently taken such a substantial hod upon our people. She saw in this major fashion movement the beginning of the end in our habitual search for adequate dress design abroad. To Miss Traphagen, a slavish dependence upon Europe for dress and other design was the most senseless and intolerable condition in current American art. To her it seemed to be as undesirable. She believed that so long as we depend upon Europe for our art designs, art objects and the pictorial, plastic and manual arts, the great body of American artists would never attain the position in the world to which its impressive talents entitle it- have long ago entitled it."

Congo Cloth, published in Women's Wear, 1923. Brooklyn Museum of Art, Culin Archival Collection.
"SCHIFFLI EMBROIDERIES INSPIRED BY PRIMITIVE NEGRO MOTIFS
Series of Patterns in Congo Cloth Representing Modern Adaptations of Designs From Sleeping Mats Used in the Huts of African Negroes.
Designed and Manufactures by Blank & Co., Inc."


As textile designers looked to Non-Western sources for inspiration, the art and design of Africa became one of the most strong influences. By 1930 the American Silk Journal even declared that African prints would bring in "a new era in American fashions." African art had already begun influencing fine art, with Cubism taking direct influence from the style. But it was in the late 1910s and through the 1920s that "Africana" prints would begin to filter through to textile design. In 1923 the Brooklyn Museum of Art held an exhibition titled "Primitive Negro Art". Curated by Stewart Culin, the exhibition showcased art from the Bushongo tribe in what was then the Belgian Congo (now the Democratic Republic of Congo). To help market the exhibition, Culin commissioned artists to create designs based on the artifacts on display. Feliz Meyer, working with the Blank & Co silk company, designed "Congo Cloth", an extremely popular textile based on patterns from raffia sleeping mats and burial masks.


An advertisement for dresses at Bonwit Teller (a department store) made from Congo Cloth. Women's Wear, April 14, 1923.

The Africana trend continued throughout the decade and into the 1930s. Ethel Traphagan had students design textiles inspired by artifacts she brought home from a trip to Africa in 1928 and C. K. Eagle Co chose some of the student designs for a line of printed silks called "Zanbraza." In 1930 the Beldings-Heminway company released a series of printed silks titled "Safari" designed by Fredeirck Suhr. Inspired by Safari; A Saga of the African Blue by Martin Johnson, the silk patterns were named by Martin's wife Osa and included "Samburu, African war gear; Utunda, circlets made of wild animal teeth; Kando, jungle hunt for leopard; and Tinga-Tinga, fronds of the palm tree." In an advertisment for the silks, Vogue wrote: "Africa, country of amazing contrast, savage and sophisticate, this is the theme of Safari... silks patterned in the keener color, the bolder rhythm of a new adventure." Continuing into the 1930s, in 1931 Malinson and Co produced a series of printed silks with "Barbaric Themes"; the silks were given names such as "Togo", "Marrakech", and "Timbuktu".


A Safari silk fabric titled "Punda" by Belding-Heminway Co., 1930. Newark Museum, New Jersey.

As can be seen by the continued use of the words barbaric, primitive, and savage, the Africana textile trend was heavily influenced by colonialism and racism. It is a prime example of cultural appropriation, with American designers taking artistic influences from the diverse cultures of Africa without awareness of the significance or context of the designs and their place in African culture. Many Africana textiles are based on racist generalizations and stereotypes and the titles of many of the designs accentuate this idea of Western (i.e. white) superiority. The idea of cultural appropriation is new, but it can still be used to understand the past. While these textiles produced in the 1920s were beautiful, it is extremely important to view them through the lens of Western imperialism.


In the second and final post in this series, learn how textile designers took inspiration from modern life and the American experience to contribute to this new American aesthetic! Coming soon!



Further Reading

Hannel, Susan. "'Africana' Textiles: Imitation, Adaptation, and Transformation During the Jazz Age" Textile: The Journal of Cloth and Culture, Spring 2006, 68-103.
↧

Technical Difficulties

July 30, 2015, 12:15 pm
$
0
0
We are currently experiencing a few technical difficulties and all your new Textile Month articles are not posting. We're looking into it and hope to be back in working order soon!
↧
↧

We're Back!

August 23, 2015, 10:55 am
$
0
0
After spending some quality time with tech support The Fashion Historian is back in business! We will be finishing up the last few posts from Textile Month, as well as bringing you some more Disney Princesses and book reviews! Stay tuned for lots of exciting content!
↧

Book Review: Nautical Chic by Amber Jane Butchart

August 23, 2015, 2:45 pm
$
0
0


Nautical Chic
by Amber Jane Butchart
Abrams (USA); Thames & Hudson Ltd. (UK)


"It is France, the United States, and Britain whose naval uniforms and maritime clothing have had a lasting legacy around the globe. From tailoring to sportswear, and from haute couture to the high street, these countries are the key producers and exporters of nautical style. Intertwined with politics, imperialism, war, leisure, trade and sport, marine passions and seafaring endeavours have made the journey from lifeblood to lifestyle."
~ Amber Jane Butchart




Nautical Chic is the second book by fashion historian Amber Jane Butchart and well worth looking at. Featuring nearly 200 large images and plenty of interesting historical tidbits, the book tracks the history of the influence of nautical trends on fashion. From the coiffure à la Belle Poule to Captain Hook to all your favorite designers such as Coco Chanel, Vivienne Westwood, and Alexander McQueen, this book covers everything you ever wanted to know about how the seafaring have permeated our fashion vocabulary. As the press release states, "Nautical style has been an enduring mainstay of the fashion world, and Nautical Chic is a lavish celebration of its iconic looks and perennial popularity, tracing the history of its trends and impact on the clothes we love."

The book is divided into five chapters, each focusing on a different element of nautical heritage: "The Officer", "The Sailor", "The Fisherman", "The Sportsman," and "The Pirate". Each chapter is accompanied by several full page images of contemporary fashion as well as historic garments and illustrations, allowing the reader to closely examine the details of each. The images are a great strength of this text, creating a vibrant and eye-catching display. As one who is often frustrated with minimal, small images in fashion history texts, I was very pleased to be able truly see what the author was discussing and immerse myself in the subject. The text is equally informative, condensing an enormous amount of information into easily digestible sections that provide a rich overview of nautical style throughout history. Nautical Chic is not plagued by academic-speak and could be easily enjoyed by both experts and those with a passing interest in fashion history. My only criticism is that I want more! More text! More images! Give me 200 more pages please!

As a lifelong fan of pirates, the chapter on styles derived from the swashbuckling antiheros was particularly enjoyable. As the chapter title page says,

"Romance and adventure on the high seas are embodied by the Pirate. Designers with a penchant for historical detail and the spirit of rebellion, from McLaren and Westwood to Galliano and de Castelbajac, are drawn to his excess. Embodying aristocratic 17th-century opulence, as well as shipwrecked stripes and rags, the Pirate's style is drawn as much from fiction as from fact: a theatrical villain recast as a swashbuckling hero."

The chapter covers a large variety of styles and ideas associated with the pirate, from a brief history of the real-life Golden Age of Piracy in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries to the influence of popular pirate films on fashion to the postmodern reinterpretations of pirates from designers Malcom McClaren and Vivienne Westwood. Archetypal pirate accouterments such as tattoos, peg legs, and the Jolly Roger are also explored. For instance, the short section titled "Eye Patches and Parrots" discusses the historical basis for such accessories before mentioning how they have made their way to the high fashion runway in the collections of Gaultier and de Castelbajac.

There are not many books on nautical style, so this book is definitely a must-have for those with a love of stripes, epaulettes, fashion, and history!




With thanks to Abrams for the review copy of this book.
↧
Search

Art Deco Textiles In America Part 2: American History and Modern Life

September 12, 2015, 2:09 pm
$
0
0
We're finishing up Textile Month after some technical difficulties! This week we bring you the long awaited Part 2 of our Art Deco textiles series. Catch up with Part 1 at the link below, and then read all about how American history and contemporary life influenced new textile design in the 1920s!

Part 1: Africana Prints and Non-Western Influences



Sample from the "American National Parks" series, H. R. Mallinson and Company, ca. 1927. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 27.151.3.


Firstly, a quick recap of the background of American textile design. American textile designers had traditionally looked towards France for design inspiration, but after World War I designers began to search for a style that was uniquely American. America was in the midst of an explosion of modernity. Skyscrapers, jazz music, and the rise of Hollywood films were all signifiers of an exciting new American identity. American designers realized their own potential for creativity and uniquely American artistic contributions. As discussed in the previous post, many designers turned towards Non-Western influences, taking inspiration from the art of Africa and the Americas to inspire modern designs symbolic of America's status as a melting pot of different cultures. But other designers instead looked to more local influences, exploring the American past and present through designs that represented the quintessentially American experience.

Lounging pajamas made from silk from the "Early American" series by H.R. Mallinson and Company, ca. 1930. Textile design attributed to Hazel Burnham Slaughter. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2009.300.2653a,b.

There was an enormous expansion of the American silk industry in the 1920s, and the simple cuts and silhouettes of women's fashion allowed a broad canvas to showcase printed fabrics. Two of the major silk manufacturers were H. R. Mallinson and Co. and Stehli Silks Corporation. H. R. Mallinson and Co. was founded by Hiram Royal Mallinson and Moses Charles Migel in 1900, then named M.C. Migel and Co. But by the early 1910s Migel had retired and sold his interest in the company, which officially became H.R. Mallinson and Co. in 1915. Mallinson was the son of Polish immigrants and his company became a key figure in the search for an American aesthetic. In the 1910s Mallinson took advantage of the craze for Non-Western influenced textiles and introduced the "Mexixe" line of printed silks inspired by Aztec, Mexican, and Native American art. But what H.R. Mallinson and Co. is most remembered for are their American history inspired series of silk designs.

Silk from the "American National Parks" series by H. R. Mallinson and Company depicting Paradise Valley and Mount Rainier, 1927. The Newark Museum, J. Ackerman Cotes Collection.

Woman's dress made from silk from the "American Indian" series by H. R. Mallinson and Company. Print titled "Sioux War Bonnet", ca. 1928. RISD Museum, 2006.6.

Mallinson produced a "State Flower" range of silks in 1915 and 1929. Silks inspired by Native American motifs were designed in 1916 and 1925, followed by a highly successful "American Indian" series in 1928 (an example of which is pictured above). In 1927, Mallinson produced a "American National Parks" series (an example of which is pictured above) as a response to the "Americana Prints" from the Stehli Silks Corporation, which celebrated American life. The "American National Parks" prints were an enormous success and prompted a follow up series, "Wonder Caves of America". In 1929 the "Early American" series celebrated scenes from America's past, such as the textile below which features images of the Liberty Bell and Betsy Ross creating the American flag.

Silk from the "Early American" series by H.R. Mallinson and Company. Print titled "Besty Ross-Liberty Bell", 1929. RISD Museum, 57.083.100K.

Mallinson's textiles celebrate America's past, with scenes of covered wagons, George Washington, and Native American tribes representing the rich cultural history of the country. The textiles also celebrate the present, with the "American National Parks", "Wonder Caves of America", and "State Flower" series showcasing the vast and unique landscapes that make up America. They are a celebration of the traditions of American life.



"Americana Print: Metropolis", designed by F.V. Carpenter for Stehli Silks Corporation, ca. 1927. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 27.243.5.

The silks produced by the Stehli Silks Corporation, on the other hand, celebrated modernity. Under artistic director Kneeland "Ruzzie" Green, Stehli Silks produced the most avant garde and modern prints, partnering with artists, illustrators, and even celebrities to create vibrantly graphic patterns that represented contemporary America. From 1925 to 1927 Stehli Silks issued it's collection of "Americana Prints". An enormous success in their time and remembered today as some of the finest Art Deco textiles created, the "Americana Prints" were masterminded by Green, who brought in a wealth of contributors to create different designs that represented multiple elements of modern life.

"Americana Print: Thrills", designed by Dwight Taylor for Stehli Silks Corporation, 1927. The Victoria & Albert Museum, T.87G-1930.

"Americana Print: A Game of Tennis", designed by Helen Wills for Stehli Silks Corporation, 1927. The Victoria & Albert Museum, T.87F-1930.

Leisure activities were represented, such as roller coaster riding in "Thrills" (designed by Dwight Taylor, 1927) and "A Game of Tennis" (designed by famous tennis player Helen Wills, 1927). Contemporary life in the big city was portrayed in textiles such as "Manhattan" (designed by Clayton Knight, 1925) and "My New York" (designed by Pierre Mourgue, 1926-28).

LEFT: "Americana Print: Manhattan", designed by Clayton Knight for Stehli Silks Corporation, 1925. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 27.150.3.
RIGHT: Photograph of a model wearing a dress made from the "Manhattan" print. Photograph by Kadel & Herbert
Commercial Department, 1925. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1984.546.5.4.


"Americana Print: My New York", designed by Pierre Mourgue for Stehli Silks Corporation, 1926-28. The Cooper Hewitt, 1953-108-1.

 Graphic design and the Dada art movement had their influences in 1925, with Ruzzie Green's "message prints" playing on words such as "It" and "Cheerio". The "It" print referred to the idea of the It Girl, the woman who just had "it". Famous movie star Clara Bow was often described as having "it", and in 1927 she starred in a movie simply titled It. In wearing a dress of the "It" print, a woman could gain a part of that illusive quality. The It Girl is a distinctly modern concept, making it a fitting subject for an "Americana Print".

"Americana Print: Cheerio", designed by Kneeland "Ruzzie" Green for Stehli Silks Corporation, 1925. The Cooper Hewitt, 1937-1-1.

"Americana Print: It", designed by Kneeland "Ruzzie" Green for Stehli Silks Corporation, 1925. The Cooper Hewitt, 1937-1-7.




Ordinary objects also provided inspiration for designs such as "Pegs" (designed by Charles B. Falls, ca. 1927) and "Moth Balls and Sugar" (designed by seminal photographer Edward J. Steichen, 1927). These silks used the strong graphic quality of every day objects to create abstract designs. The clean lines and strong shapes featured in these prints spoke clearly to the Art Deco aesthetic.


"Americana Print: Pegs", designed by Charles B. Falls for Stehli Silks Corporation, ca. 1927. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 27.243.2.

"Americana Print: Moth Balls and Sugar", designed by Edward J. Steichen for Stehli Silks Corporation, 1927. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 27.149.1.

American popular culture was also represented in textile design, a throwback to the figural printed cottons of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. "Rhapsody in Blue" (designed by famed illustrator John Held Jr., ca. 1927) was inspired by George Gershwin's 1924 composition of the same name, which combined elements of classical music and jazz to create a uniquely American style of music. And "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" (designed by Ralph Barton, 1925) was inspired by the 1925 comic novel by Anita Loos, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes: The Intimate Diary of a Professional Lady. The novel tells the saucy tale of a young woman living a lavish life in the 1920s, a record of the modern American woman.

"Americana Print: Rhapsody in Blue", designed by John Held Jr. for Stehli Silks Corporation, ca. 1927. The Victoria & Albert Museum, T.87O-1930.

"Americana Print: Gentlemen Prefer Blondes", designed by Ralph Barton for Stehli Silks Corporation, 1925. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 27.149.11.


The "Americana Prints" celebrated the life of the typical middle-class American, who might live in a big city, go to an amusement park to ride a roller coaster, possess everyday household objects like pegs and sugar cubes, and enjoy modern entertainment. With the rise of the ready-to-wear fashion industry high fashion was more accessible than ever before and the "Americana Prints" are representative of this trend, celebrating the lives not of the elite but of ordinary Americans.


Learn more about H.R. Mallinson and Co. here and here.

Learn more about the Stehli Silks Corporation and the "Americana Prints" here.
↧

Coming Soon........

February 18, 2016, 11:32 am
$
0
0
Book Week is coming soon to The Fashion Historian! Beginning next Monday I will spend an entire week reviewing the latest fashion and textile history publications. I've still got room on the schedule for a couple more books, so if you would like your own book reviewed please get in touch!

After book week we'll be bringing you the next post in our Disney Princess series, focusing on Sleeping Beauty!

Stay tuned!
↧
↧

Book Week Review: The Dress Detective by Ingrid Mida and Alexandra Kim

February 22, 2016, 7:59 pm
$
0
0
Welcome to Book Week on The Fashion Historian! Every day this week I will be reviewing the latest in fashion and textile history scholarship. Enjoy!





The Dress Detective: A Practical Guide to Object-Based Research in Fashion
by Ingrid Mida and Alexandra Kim
Bloomsbury


"Unlocking the personal and cultural narratives hidden in the folds of a garment is a little bit like being Sherlock Holmes. A dress detective looks for and interprets the clues..."
- Ingrid Mida and Alexandra Kim


I love this quote which begins the Introduction to The Dress Detective, a new book focusing on the methodology of object-based fashion research. As a longtime fan of Sherlock Holmes I love that I get to don his mythical deerstalker myself and search for the small details that might reveal a person, a place, a time. Detective work is integral to fashion history research, yet very little has been written on how to go about it. Ingrid Mida and Alexandra Kim fill that gap in the bookshelf with The Dress Detective. This book provides an excellent guide that is sure to be extremely useful for students and professionals alike.

The Dress Detective has two main sections. The first (chapters 1 through 5) details the steps one should take to read an object. The second (chapters 6 through 12) puts this theory into practice, providing case studies of a wide assortment of different extant garments which utilize the methods laid out in previous chapters. There are also two extremely helpful appendices, providing a "Checklist for Observation" and a "Checklist for Reflection"; two blank forms the researcher can use to guide their study. Each chapter is accompanied by multiple color images to illustrate every step of the process, a must-have for a book like this. The organization of this book is fantastic, providing not only the theory of fashion research but multiple examples of how to actually do it. The case studies cover both men's and women's fashion from the early 19th century to the present, demonstrating how to approach researching a variety of garments. The "Checklist for Observation" and "Checklist for Reflection" are extremely detailed, pointing the researcher in directions they may not have considered.

I particularly appreciated chapter 1, "A Brief History of Object-based Research with Dress Artifacts". This chapter considers some of the pioneers of the field of fashion history such as Doris Langley Moore, Anne Buck, Janet Arnold, and Jules David Prown, as well as important historians working today such as Valerie Steele, Alexandra Palmer, and Lou Taylor. As a historian I, of course, appreciate the history of historians and was happy to see Mida and Kim acknowledge those who came before. On a practical level, this chapter also directs the curious reader to other sources of methodology and research (I highly recommend Jules David Prown's 1982 article, "Mind in Matter: An Introduction to Material Culture Theory and Method", which is briefly summarized in this chapter).

There are many boring, jargon-filled texts about history methodology. The Dress Detective is not one of them. This is a concise, well organized, and extremely accessible book that deserves a place on the bookshelf of anyone interested in fashion research.

 
Many thanks to Bloomsbury for the review copy of this book!



↧

Pink

August 10, 2013, 2:48 pm
$
0
0
 
Think Pink from Funny Face (1957)

The color pink has come to represent all that is quintessentially girly. Barbie, the most famous of girl's dolls, frequently wears pink, drives a pink convertable, and lives in a pink house.* In the movie Legally Blonde (2001), Elle Woods, the stereotypical ditzy sorority girl, is often dressed in her signature color- pink. Disney princesses including Cinderella, Ariel, and Aurora, all appear in pink gowns. The logo for breast cancer awareness, a disease associated with women (although men can get breast cancer as well), is a pink ribbon.

Images from Cinderella (1950), Sleeping Beauty (1959), and The Little Mermaid (1989).

I know some women who love pink because it's girly, and some who hate it for the same reason. For some, pink represents the negative gender stereotype of a shallow and stupid girl. For others, pink represents a vibrant celebration of femininity. I myself like the color pink, not for any gender connotations but because I think it is a pretty color. However, I know my fondness for pink clothes, accessories, and objects to decorate my house with sends a certain message to people, be it positive or negative. I have sometimes been criticized for my fondness of pink, and told that it makes me seem immature, unintelligent, and "girly" (that is, I'm like a little girl, not an adult woman). Strong Independent Modern Women don't wear pink! I think Strong Independent Modern Women can wear whatever they like but that is besides the point. Pink is a highly politicized color. But it hasn't always been that way.

Man's pink suit from the 1780s. At the Swiss National Museum.


The designations of pink and blue as gendered colors that we know today did not come about until the twentieth century, when childrens clothing became gender specific. In previous centuries, young boys and girls wore dresses and skirts (because it was easier to change diapers that way) for the first years of their life. But this began to change in the twentieth century, and with gendered clothing came gendered colors.

Virgin and Child by the Master of Guillaume Lambert, c. 1485. The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

It may surprise you to know that pink has traditionally been a masculine color. Pink, as a lighter version of red, had associations with blood and fighting, symbols of masculinity. Blue, today the color designated as masculine, has traditionally been the feminine color. In Christian tradition, blue is the iconographic color code of the Virgin Mary, and what is more feminine than the symbol of purity herself, the virgin mother of the son of God. In June 1918, the Infants' Department wrote: "There has been a great diversity of opinion on the subject, but the generally accepted rule is pink for the boy and blue for the girl, The reason is that pink being a more decided and stronger color is more suitable for the boy, while blue, which is more delicate and dainty, is prettier for the girl."


A feminine pink kitchen advertised in McCalls, April 1951.

So when did the colors switch, with pink becoming feminine? It was during the 1950s that pink became strongly feminized. This was not a sudden change, but the result of a gradual evolution. The designation of pink as feminine was the result of several factors, one of which was changes in the clothing industry. By the 1950s, most families bought clothing from stores, and clothing manufacturers helped to shape the idea of gendered clothing. In her book about the history of gendered childrens clothing, Pink and Blue, Jo Paoletti writes: "The more baby clothing could be designed for an individual child-- and sex was the easiest and most obvious way to distinguish babies-- the harder it would be for parents to hand down clothing from one child to the next, and the more clothing they would have to buy as their families grew."

In recent years, men have somewhat reclaimed the color pink. In conjunction with the release of Baz Luhrmann's new adaptation of The Great Gatsby, Brooks Brothers sold a design based on Jay Gatsby's famous pink suit. Famous hip hop artists such as Jay Z and Kanye West have been pictured wearing pink. And preppy polo shirts and shorts for men come in a variety of shades of pink. So is the pink stigma being lifted? Only time will tell.



*While looking for images of Barbie, I learned that Barbie's Dream House is now a reality. You can visit a life sized version in Berlin, Germany and Florida, USA. I saw some pictures, and everything in the house is, of course, pink.

↧

Exploring The Decades With Disney Princesses: Snow White

September 30, 2013, 3:14 pm
$
0
0
As a fashion historian, I find that an interesting aspect of Disney is how the animated features serve as records of the visual culture of their day. The Disney Princesses, a successful sub-franchise launched by Disney in the late 1990s, are everywhere these days. They have not been without controversy, but they are certainly popular. They are also records of changing standards of beauty for women in the 20th century. This post series will discuss selected Disney Princesses, exploring how they embody the ideals of femininity of their time.

Snow White from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
 

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is a landmark moment in the history of film. It was the first full length animated feature produced by Walt Disney, and is one of the top ten performers at the North American box office. Based on the Brothers Grimm fairy tale, it tells the story of an evil queen who is jealous of Snow White's superior beauty and orders her murder. After a huntsman, Snow White's would-be murderer, shows mercy, Snow White begins a life of hiding in the woods and befriends seven dwarfs. Furious that Snow White is still alive the evil queen disguises herself and visits Snow White in her woodland cottage giving her a poisoned apple. Snow White takes a bite and seems to die but is ultimately awoken and rescued by the kiss of a handsome prince. And they all lived happily ever after.


Marjorie and her animated counterpart dance.

The rendering of Snow White in Disney's film, with her blue bodiced and yellow skirted dress, dainty red bow, and short black hair, has become iconic, and the character is the earliest of the Disney Princesses. Development for the movie began in early 1934. Snow White was modeled on a young dancer named Marjorie Celeste Belcher, daughter of a Disney animator. Marjorie was filmed performing scenes as Snow White, which Disney animators later used as reference to create a realistic human depiction.


But how does Snow White's appearance reflect the aesthetics of the 1930s? Simply look at fashion illustrations of the period and you'll see that Snow White fits right in with the illustrated fashion models. Fashion illustrations are a great source for looking at ideals of beauty because a drawing can convey ideal aesthetics in a way a real human body cannot. Furthermore, fashion illustration also takes a cue from dominant artistic trends of the period, showing broader visual influences.

Illustration of two women wearing dress coats from Croquis de bal, 1930s. The New York Public Library.

Snow White is a slim figured Art Deco beauty. Her silhouette is sleek and long, with no large curves interrupting the smooth line from head to toe, reflecting the ideal silhouette of the period and the sleek lines of the Art Deco style. Her dress has a close fitting bodice, puffed sleeves, and a narrow skirt, all elements of fashionable dress from the 1930s. Compare her to the figures in the fashion illustration above, which also feature a long, slim figure, and a dress with emphasis on the shoulders and narrow lines.

Hat designs from the 1930s.

Snow White's face also shows ideal features. Her hair is cropped short, and she has cherub-like red lips, circular eyes, and pencil thin eyebrows. Once again, these features are mirrored in the fashion illustration above. Snow White's face gives her a dainty, girlish appearance, reflecting the elegant femininity which characterized 1930s fashion. And once again, her round and simply drawn facial features conform with the Art Deco aesthetic which combined sleek lines, round shapes, and a minimal aesthetic without much embellishment.

As time goes by how do the Disney Princesses evolve? Stay tuned!

If you're interested in the historical influences of Snow White's clothes, please check out this excellent post from the lovely ladies over at Frock Flicks!

↧
Viewing all 62 articles
Browse latest View live
Search