fashion history

My last posting could have been subtitled “Do we own fashion or does it own us?” While I frequently dwell on fashion as a social force, it’s good to remember that fashion is also a huge industry. When I was young and employed for a year at the Fashion Institute of Technology Library, I remember thinking that I’d love to see something that might reveal the business workings of the fashion industry as a whole.

Such a publication came out in 2007. Providing case studies from the clothing trade and the fashion design syndicate, Veronica Manlow’s Designing clothes: culture and organization of the fashion industry, is precisely the sort of book I’d wished I had access to years ago.

p.s. American politics are intruding onto the runways! Donatella Versace was quoted as saying that her fall men’s collection had been inspired by Barak Obama. For a glimpse of the future, check out the Fall 2008 Milan Fashion Week.

Back in 1993, the Library held an exhibition called “A Change of Clothes: Femininity, Fashion and Feminism.” I was looking at the brochure the other day, and found something written there that piqued my curiosity.

“Three important concepts—femininity, fashion, and feminism—can help us understand the origins of modern dress. First, there is a historical relationship between a woman’s outward appearance and her essential femininity. Second, western society promotes fashion as a worthy pursuit for women, drawing them into a world of self-imposed rules and regulations based on imitation, conformity, and consumerism. However, current clothing modes and styles have been radically affected by 20th-century changes in women’s status, employment, and social mobility. Third, in recent years, feminism (a misunderstood and maligned concept even today) has challenged long-held assumptions that women and their apparel have a subordinate role in society.”

Fifteen years later, do these words still ring true? We’ve just had the first woman candidate for American president campaign long and, ultimately, fruitlessly wearing pants more often than skirts. Yet fashion is seen as a support to many women’s dreams—just look at the success of “Sex and The City.” At the same time, however, feminism also seems to have become more of an ambivalent option for many young women. What do these developments, seen from the perspective of 2008, say about how far women have come in society?

And what about the “18 million cracks” in the glass ceiling that Hilary Clinton referred to in her concession speech?

I discovered the illustration below in our Picture Collection. It’s actually a compelling piece of evidence for the point I’ve made previously about feminine body types and the start of the modern era.

This advertisement for dress patterns from the early 1930s boldly states: “Look Slim.” The elongated line that appeared in the 1920s is carried to new lengths here, even as the hemlines remain decorously modest. These garments are an early version of the shirtwaist dress with its clinched belt. The drumbeat of advertising and exhortation to women began in this period and continues today. Previously, looking slim was an implied option. A caption on this ad says “Little women and larger-hip frocks,” proof that the clothing industry—and contemporary values—had already decided thin was desirable. An eye-opening look at the slippery road from this point on can be found in Naomi Wolf’s The Beauty Myth.

As we get into the twentieth century, events reveal themselves that show just how important a role blacks begin to play in popular culture and the arts. Josephine Baker and American jazz musicians wowed 1920s Paris, and Europeans enthusiastically swayed to the beat from across the Atlantic. From zoot suits to hip hop, we owe black musicians, entertainers, and artists a debt for their contributions to contemporary cool.

Fortunately, scholarship since the 1980s has been at work to rectify the omissions of the first major publications on Art Deco. Just as we’ve learned how African tribal art animated the works of the early Modernist painters and sculptors, so do we now get more information on the people who helped make it the Jazz Age. In 2006, the one-hundredth anniversary of her birth, an exhibition, Josephine Baker: image and icon, paid homage to her legendary career.

Over the last few months, I've noted the recurrence of news and feature article about the recession-proff nature of cosmetics, and lipstick in particular. One story, in the May 1 issue of The New York Times, speaks of purchasing cosmetics and lipstick as a way to have an indulgence when on a tight budget. "Hard Times, But Your Lips Look Great"
also confirms what I've long suspected: lip gloss has over taken lipstick in sales. But the beauty brands are tenacious in their conviction that belt-tightening will not include their products.

Read My Lips isa marvelous review of the history of lipstick. Coming of age when I did, I've always been wary of lipstick's benefits. A devotee of eye shadow, I never acquired the same taste for mouth color. The stuff just wears off too fast.

The story of black for clothing is a long and interesting one. I tackled the topic in “A Rakish History of Men’s Wear,” but more can always be said. Black as a feminine clothing choice turns out to be a complex decision.

An excellent publication from the Victoria & Albert Museum, those serious custodians of design history, is Black in fashion. This book focuses, however, on the twentieth century exclusively. In the 1930s, the elongated lines for frocks made black garments appear coolly elegant. And on the dance floor, a dress like the one depicted here went so well with its glamorous tuxedo partner…

p.s. I’ll be following up in a few weeks with more on “fashion victim.” And I’ll broaden my investigations to look at both classically successful and problematic aspects of feminine fashion.

Where did the term “fashion victim” originate? Wikipedia claims that Oscar de la Renta coined the term, and the phrase was used by Giorgio Armani. Fashion followers become victims when they get entangled in fads and materialism… Hmmm. The psychology of feminine preoccupation with fashion is a rich area for investigation. The most appropriate publication I’ve found to date on the subject has a clear-cut title: Fashion victim: our love-hate relationship with dressing, shopping, and the cost of style.

I can’t decide whether it has more of the anthropological or sociological in its scope. The book’s author moves from the fashion industry as a whole to specific feminist concerns, including body image and self-esteem. As individuals, we women begin to evolve an attitude toward these subjects from teen years on. And when we grew up has everything to do with our feelings: my coming-of-age coincided with late 60s social protest. Which means I’ve been wary of fashion—even when embracing it—ever since then.

And now it seems that our presidential contest will be two men in suits slugging it out. I’ll have more to say about the politics of male and female fashion in the weeks ahead…

While on vacation, I realized how much we take nylon fabric for granted. Yet this most twentieth-century of creations was the first fiber to be synthesized from petrochemicals. While rayon and acetate are older by a few decades, the development of nylon set off a fashion frenzy. Eight years after its introduction, nylon hosiery was a highlighted product at the San Francisco Exposition of 1939. Women clamored for this new stocking material, which proved stronger and cheaper than silk stockings. Special types of nylon fibers appeared from the 1960s on.

Nylon was the must-have synthetic until 1969, when polyester made its debut. If you want to learn even more amazing facts about this fiber, check out Nylon: the story of a fashion revolution.

On an earlier post, I had a comment asking when the pantsuit was invented. Some people are rushing to say Saint Laurent did this, but the truth may be a little less obvious. Both Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein had a great deal to do with regularizing feminine skirt suits. I’ll look into this, along with a request for information on the origins of the navy blazer, and report back later this summer.

There’s been media mention, albeit briefly and rather tantalizingly, about a subgenre of dress called steampunk fashion. I’m always in favor of anything that celebrates everything old is new again. Steampunk derives from fiction of the 1980s and early 1990s about fantasy or science fiction set in the Victorian era of steam. Evidently, steampunk dressing received a boost from the popular recent movies, The Prestige and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Clothing elements resemble punk a little, although to lean on pop culture history, a lot of outfits look like a combination of Sherlock Holmes, the cast of the televisions series Wild, Wild West, and Miss Kitty from Gunsmoke. Basically, many looks come from 1890s fashion.

The punk and goth motif can be seen in the use of piercings, tattoos, tattered petticoats and corsets, along with goggles, boots, big belts and buckles, and tubular-shaped drapery. But, to me, the wonder is that a specific historical period is being celebrated. Viva Steampunk!

And—last but hardly least—farewell to Yves Saint Laurent, whose designs created an influential brand that shaped late 20th century women’s dress! I’ll always revere him for providing the impetus to allow women to claim pants for their own. Hillary’s pantsuits and my habitual black trousers owe everything to him. He will be greatly missed, and well-ensconced in the pantheon of fashion heroes.

Over the years, and confirmed by my vacation, a remarkable difference between tourists and locals lies in the number of clothes they wear. Tourists, especially in national park country, get by with shedding as many garments as they dare. No worries about sunscreen there—as all the masculine bare chests and feminine short shorts attest. The locals, on the other hand, believe in the principle of covering up. An 85 degree day calls for long sleeves and black denim pants. One common denominator, however, for both groups is the ubiquitous baseball cap. In addition, all the tourist towns, led by Moab, Utah, specialize in sporting goods stores with more creative uses for nylon material than you’d ever imagine (more on this later). A fashion tip for those passing through Salt Lake City: A.A. Callister has been catering to the genuine cowboy set for decades. You’ll find the real duds here, minus the high fashion cost.

However, I found that the 1920s pursued me even on vacation. One night in the hotel room, I turned on the television to find Billy Wilder’s 50s tribute to the screwball comedies of the 20s and 30s, Some Like It Hot. This movie is a classic, if only for the comedic teaming of Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon, disguised as flappers to evade a murderous gang of mobsters. Curtis and Lemmon made fetching women in their get-up, but their charms were eclipsed by an ethereal Marilyn Monroe, whose incandescent performance as Sugar was enhanced by what must surely be the most indecent dress ever worn in the cinema (she had to be sewn into it, and the sequins barely covered her nipples…) Catch this film on DVD if you can.

I’m going on hiatus again, and my destination is True West.

I’ll be traveling to Mesa Verde Country, in what’s known geographically as the Four Corners (where AZ, UT, CO, NM meet). After some short walks in Utah national parks, and visits to some still active Indian trading posts, my goal is an American Indian Arts fair, located right in Mesa Verde National Park on Memorial Day weekend.

I’ll be visiting Park City, Utah, and Durango, Colorado, during my vacation. Both towns are noted for attracting a more fashionable class of tourist. When I return, I’ll report on what the well-dressed locals and tourists are wearing these days.

While men show a more unified presence in their two-and-three-piece suits, augmented by the ubiquitous power necktie, women have an interesting range of options for garments. Yet it hasn’t gone unnoticed that Hilary Clinton, while on the campaign trail, wears trousers as much or more than skirts. Nor does she don many dresses.

Personal appearance is a key factor in any campaign for elected office. Since fashion, however, is often a window into a person’s psyche, a look at Clinton’s, Obama’s, and McCain’s dress sense is justifiably revealing. Their political advisors (as well as spouses) have weighed in on their clothing. At present, McCain is running third in the sartorial sweepstakes, but he may have no problem with that. The last Republication to look really good in a suit was Ronald Reagan. Want more perspectives on the quiet competition between the sexes? Search in CATNYP under the heading Fashion—Psychological aspects.

The Punch and Judy Show, which has become the Democratic Party’s campaign for presidential nominee, calls for analysis of every last detail. So why not fashion? At this point in time, Hilary wins hands down for her versatile wardrobe effects. Her pastel pantsuits have grown stronger in color, embracing cobalt, coral, rust, turquoise, and ever-cheery yellow. Her matching costume jewelry choices are truly awesome to me, and she drapes a truly elegant scarf round her throat when she wishes.

Gender studies related to clothing first appeared in full force in the 1970s. One of the best, however, is a Smithsonian Institution Press study from 1989, Men and women: dressing the part. Will this year’s presidential election be about two men in suits slugging it out, or be a true battle of the sexes?

What happens to fashion when the global economy becomes strained? The answer isn’t clear, by any means, but there are hints from past circumstances. Generally, clothing stays conservative, or doesn’t vary from the ideas seen in the last pre-troubled seasonal lineup. I’d made some New Year’s predictions which seem to be falling short of expectations. Baby doll styles, shrunken jackets, and giddy colors can still be seen for sale en masse. The only thing I predicted that seems to be turning out as I’d hoped is a steady drumbeat for ecologically-minded, or green, fashion.

Which brings me to the 1930s, a time when economic bad news was pervasive. Ironically, some of the clothing to come out of that decade proved to be stylish, and came to be labeled as “classical.” Men’s suits, for example, received accolades for being glamorous: well cut, smart lapels, and textural dash. This had everything to do with the fact that Hollywood and its talkies had a great impact on popular culture of that period. Movie stars are still considered fashion icons. Financial recession these days, however, will mean that innovation is stifled. Lack of cash will force designers and companies to sit on big changes in garments. Look for classical to have a strong run this year…

Over the weekend, I was engrossed in a murder mystery set in medieval Cambridge. The suspense centered on men who were sneaking around after dark doing nefarious deeds. They masked their identity with their hat, which went by the name of a liripipe. The author never gave a particularly cogent description of this item, so I looked it up in the Encyclopedia of Clothing and Dress. I learned that a liripipe was a 14th century headdress of an eccentric nature—and an important object of masculine fashion. Worn over a gorget, a form of hood and neckpiece, the liripipe was composed of soft tubes of cloth, up to two feet in length, with drooping points. They could be suspended, worn over the shoulder, or wound round the gorget like a turban. Fashionable men went to great lengths to twist the liripipe like a scarf, and drape it in dashing modes. Villains, on the other hand, as my book demonstrated, used it as a means of concealment.

Speaking of concealment (or not), there was a local television story last week about pork barrel monies in the finally-passed New York State budget. $5000 was approved for a group called Men of Exquisite Taste. Anybody know anything about this intriguing organization?

The cloche hat was all the rage in the Art Deco decades. The bell-shaped cloche had a close fit and narrow, dipped brim suited to the shortened, or bobbed, hair of the young flapper. She was a new incarnation of the modern woman, with places to go and things to do. Why, she’d even smoke cigarettes in public!

Want to have a good laugh? Or maybe purchase something, once the offerings are made clear? Go onto www.20sgangstercostumes.com and get yourself a flapper costume. I think my first memory of this stereotypical dress was during an episode of the original Star Trek television series, when Captain Kirk and his landing party ended up on a planet where everybody dressed and acted like 1920s gangsters and molls.

A colleague of mine at the Library knows a place in the Garment District where you can go and have your own cloche hat constructed for you! You can pick out the fabric and trim, and even watch the hat being blocked. We’ve always meant to go there, but invariably we get distracted by something or other at work. One day we will go—if only to release our inner flapper!

There are a number of great quotes to be found in The Rise of Fashion: A Reader, a compilation in the Art Department. Short essays or extracts from larger works by famous intellectuals and scholars can be found here. I looked at Oscar Wilde’s contribution to this anthology. Wilde (1854-1900) was famous for so many things, but what many people most remember is his biting wit.

His piece, “The Suitability of Dress,” from 1882, was written years before his notorious trials, conviction, and tragic physical breakdown. The opening lines remind me of the late William F. Buckley in full spate:

“Nothing, in general, bewilders or tortures the female mind more than the endeavor to establish some kind of harmonic relation between the law of the fashion book and the law of life, the one being for the idler, the other for the worker. Yet with some resolute self-assertion and heroic defiance of conventional prejudice, a compromise might be effected, the result being increased comfort to the workers in life’s thorny paths without even the sacrifice of beauty.”

I ran across the following book while doing research the other day. Written by H.D. Eastman in 1853, it's called Fast man's directory and lovers' guide to the ladies of fashion and houses of pleasure in New-York and other large cities. What strikes me is the understanding that "ladies of fashion" is a term for prostitutes. I didn't know that! I recall that high end courtesans and prostitutes in England were called "fashionable impures" in the early nineteenth century, but didn't know about this American usage.

Does anyone know the story behind this label and how long it lasted?

I was so intrigued by the Christian Louboutin exhibition at F.I.T., it led to me rummaging around our catalogue in pursuit of further information. One thing I discovered was an authoritative scholarly work on the shoe industry in Europe, with focus on fashion rivals France and England. Giorgio Riello’s A foot in the past: consumers, producers and footwear in the long eighteenth century offers significant information about the textile and production history of shoes and boots.

In the process of locating this book, however, I began to see how shoe history researchers could become easily confused with their findings. The problem lies in our Library of Congress Subject Headings. The obvious term to use is shoes. Yet there is another term that was adopted at a later date: footwear. To do a thorough search, it helps to search both terms. The tricky part is in the age difference between the terms; shoes will yield more citations because it’s older and been around longer, yet newer, and often more up-to-date works on the subject will only show up under the heading footwear.

Now, for the even more tricky fact! When one searches shoe industry and footwear industry, more citations show up under the newer footwear industry heading. Again, this is undoubtedly because so much more has been researched and written about this subject, as with all costume history, over the last ten years or so.

The exhibition of Christian Louboutin shoes at the Museum of the Fashion Institute of Technology is a must-see for those who love or loath high heels. French designer Louboutin gained fame for learning well from the “everything old is new again” maxim. His shoes have his signature red sole, a convention that may come down from the days of King Louis XIV.

At the same time, despite his historical references to footwear from the late eighteenth through nineteenth centuries (see the illustration above), Louboutin moves his shoe designs from the pretty to the provocative. The exhibition text delightfully suggests the sexual and other connotations that spring to mind when we look at a pair of spiked heels.

Alas, I belong to the legion of women who have had to put heeled shoes behind them. It didn’t help that I never had the kind of legs that looked slinky when thrust into a pair of really high heels. Yet this exhibition allows for plenty of fantasizing. To give yourself a preview, in order to get in the mood for a trip to F.I.T., go to Google Images and put in Christian Louboutin’s name. Prepare to be dazzled—and more than a little bit excited…