Author Archives: Imani

The Politics of a “Wardrobe Malfunction”

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I have a dream this Super Bowl season. Now, to be quite honest, I do not follow American football at all, but I do follow the halftime performances. This year, Justin Timberlake performed at the Super Bowl LII halftime show over a decade after his infamous performance with Janet Jackson. While I am a big fan of the “Prince of Pop” and can honestly say that Justified was the catalyst for my sexual awakening, the way in which Janet Jackson (and the female body for that matter) was chastised after Nipplegate is not only telling of America’s ongoing “fear” of the of the female body entering the public sphere, specifically the black female body, but also the legitimization of rape culture’s place in the public sphere.  Nipplegate became a discursive event in that it affirmed the existence of rape culture within the public sphere. After the alleged “wardrobe malfunction”, topics regarding broadcasting censorship and free speech came into question. The Federal Communications Commission fined CBS over half a million dollars for the incident to set a precedent for this type of overexposure.

The performance wardrobe of both Jackson and Timberlake aided in the cementing of their public image as popstars, but in different ways. At the time of the performance, the public image of Janet Jackson was arguably branded as a sexualized, mature, political, divorcée. Wayne Scot Lukas, Janet Jackson’s stylist for the show, said in an interview with Channel Guide Magazine that, “For the Super Bowl we had to really have a special, big outfit to create some kind of look that was going to be really magical. I told you the war had started, so we were thinking it had to be semi-military, but it had to still be a little bit sexy and fun.”[1] The semi-military inspired look was appropriate for the show because the public was still coming to terms with the United States’ decision to invade Iraq. Instead of the militarization of armed bodies, Janet’s performance wanted to inspire the militarization of the youth voice. The use of military outfits in music performances was popularized by Jackson’s brother, Michael, and has become a symbol of resistance towards hegemonic forms of power when used by minorities. Justin Timberlake was only 23 at the time of the performance, he had recently released his first solo album Justified (2003) after his split from the boy-band, NSYNC. His public image rested on his youth, his looks, and also his new bachelor status after Britney Spears cheated on him, ending their three-year relationship together. Timberlake, was branded as the heartbroken and tortured artist trying to find his way after he was scorned by love. Justin’s outfit lacks a political motivation. He is dressed casually in baggy jeans paired with an oversized shirt and jacket—a precursor to the f*c@boy image and style.

Timberlake joins Jackson on the stage to perform his single Rock Your Body. In their performance, Janet plays the love interest. Both playfully dance with each across the stage. Timberlake chases Jackson as she coquettishly plays “hard to get”. At the end of the performance, Timberlake finally catches Jackson in a moment of embrace and rips the bust of her bustier revealing Jackson’s breast. The camera stills, but only for a moment to catch both Timberlake and Jackson in a state of shock and then the stadium lights immediate fade to black. Planned or not, the action of ripping one’s clothes is an act of aggression. The immediate fade to black and blame for the incident on Jackson and her team perpetuates rape culture in the way that it normalized Jackson’s body as an explicit sexual object meant to be censored, while also promoting victim blaming (establishing a whodunit? rhetoric) and slut shaming vis-à-vis her outfit and flashy nipple clamp. Timberlake was portrayed as the naïve and innocent one, who claimed to not know anything while also refusing to acknowledge any possible chance of responsibility.

My dream this Super Bowl halftime show is a small one. I wish for Janet Jackson to storm the stage on live TV during Justin’s performance in an all-black gritty, military-inspired wardrobe (which is still appropriate today), with big hair, attitude, and a full dance troupe so that people remember her halftime performance as what it should have been remembered 13 years ago–iconic.

[1] Acken, Lori. “Nat Geo’s The 2000s: A New Reality – Janet Jackson’s Super Bowl Stylist Wayne Scot Lukas Tells Us What Really Down.” Channel Guide Magazine, 12 July 2015, www.channelguidemag.com/tv-news/2015/07/09/nat-geos-the-2000s-a-new-reality-janet-jacksons-super-bowl-stylist-wayne-scot-lukas-tells-us-what-really-down/.

By Destinee Forbes

A Brief Study of Friedrich Kunath’s Socks: Wandering Lovers

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It is winter break so I finally had some time to peruse GQ Style’s 2017 Holiday Issue. For me, GQ exudes cool in its ability to not only capture different waves of trends, but also acknowledge that waves break which makes room for new ebbs to form, especially when it comes to fashion and style.

In the holiday issue, I was introduced to an East Berlin-born painter, who resides in East L.A., Friedrich Kunath. If one had to describe Kunath’s style, it would be an eclectic iconoclasm of contemporary images and objects that have affected him throughout his life. While reading the article Friedrich Kunath’s East Angeleno Homesick Blues, by Arty Nelson, an art and food writer in Los Angeles, I was struck by Nelson’s description of Kunath’s studio as an in-process, “air-conditioned anxiety dream”[1] which was accompanied by a photograph shot by, Michael Schmelling, of what looked like a 21st century, Disney-fied Carl Andre work of a series of dyed multi-colored socks hung up with clothes pins in a very minimalist one-after-the-other style. The socks would go on to be used in Kunath’s installation at the contemporary art gallery, Blum & Poe, titled Frutti di Mare.

Socks are sometimes forgotten, and often time they are neglected in the category of “fashion”. Generally, Socks are worn out of need for warmth, or protection rather than for aesthetic desire. In Frutti di Mare, which means seafood, or more literally fruit of the sea, the colorful socks are used to evoke the idea of the domestic space in relation to the paintings exhibited in the gallery space. The socks in disarray challenge the integrity of the gallery space while also calling attention to the sense of pastiche that Kunath is trying to convey. Color in the installation space, is used subversively in an almost melancholic way to evoke the cliché around the common images that inundate the postmodern life. It is a postmodernist critique on postmodernity itself. Through the aestheticization of the banal, Kunath makes visible the senselessness in trying to make sense, through the romanticization of what surrounds us every day. The socks in the space, have no exact pair, each wanders in search of meaning. The socks, in a way, represent the ideal postmodern subject: the lover in the way the lover tries to make sense himself without the loved object. In the end, the socks turn out to subvert the minimalist aesthetic of order and rationality while calling attention to a desire for it without satisfying it.

By Destinee Forbes

[1] Nelson, Arty. “Inside Friedrich Kunath’s Amazing World of Sublime Art, Classic Cars and Obscure Scents.” GQ, GQ, 27 Nov. 2017, www.gq.com/story/inside-artist-friedrich-kunaths-amazing-world.

 

“Moon of my Life, My Sun and Stars”: A Self-Love Note to Moons and Junes

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Not many people can say they have walked around New York City in lingerie while being photographed—but I am one of few who can say they have. The funny thing is that I did not expect to model for the Danish lingerie brand, Moons and Junes, but while supporting my friend behind the scenes at one of their photoshoots, Angete Bjerre-Madsen, founder of Moons and Junes, convinced me to give it a try.

Front view Audre Bra, Olive.

At first, I thought she was absolutely crazy. Then she handed me the Audre bra (fig. 1) (named after the one and only Audre Lorde) in a deep burnt orange, and I decided that the least I could do was try it on. It was light and sheer with a little peek-a-boo feature at the center of the bra for a playful cleavage reveal. At first, I was worried that the bra would not fit, or that it would not offer the support I needed—but I was immediately proven wrong. It fit like a glove while also providing great coverage. The Moons and Junes products run in three sizes: small, medium and large—yet fit a wide range of body sizes due to the stretchy and high-quality material of the products that mold to the wearer’s form without trying to change or enhance her body. Moons and Junes prides itself on being a lingerie brand that does not use underwire or hard cups. The brand’s goal is to disrupt the current lingerie industry by creating pieces that specifically cater to everybody without trying to modify it. There is no push-up, no padding, no unnecessary frill. The pieces act as a second skin meant to conform to the wearer, the models in the ad campaigns are familiar faces—they are family and friends of all ages, races, and sizes.

Shot from New York Moons and Junes Campaign by
photographer Nick Delieto.

“Lingerie” as a category of clothing given to undergarments, aims to make the body appear more alluring and attract attention from the viewer. The erotic or desire is closely tied to lingerie not only in its proximity to the naked body, but also in the theatricality of viewing the undergarments as well. The lingerie acts as the curtain covering the stage of the body, only making the flesh visible “in performance”. Roland Barthes writes in The Pleasure of the Text (1973) that the location of the erotic in clothing lies in its ability to evoke “intermittence,” or rather what he calls, “the intermittence of skin flashing between two articles of clothing…it is the flash itself which seduces, or rather: the staging of an appearance-as-disappearance.” Historically, the wearing and showing of one’s lingerie existed in a performance, a relation between the viewer and the wearer. However, a shift is occurring within the lingerie industry that focuses not the viewer’s reception and pleasure, but the solely the wearer’s.

Shot from New York Moons and Junes campaign by photographer Nick Delieto.

Moons and Junes, in a sense, redefines the relation of the erotic as dependent on the viewer’s response, and makes the erotic or the pleasurable more personal in the sense that the wearer’s pleasure comes from her comfort in the undergarments, her confidence in her skin, and also the beautiful and minimalist design of the pieces. Moons and Junes evokes desire, however a desire that is not meant for others, but rather one that is unabashedly for the self.

By Destinee Forbes

The Avant Garden

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Moschino’s Spring/Summer 2018 ready-to-wear collection designed by Jeremy Scott is inspired by biker ballerinas, Hasbro’s ‘My Little Pony’, and flowers. An eclectic group of influences that are not aesthetically comprehensible but work insofar that the designs make the models look as if they are playing dress up on the runway. The designs make sense as a presentation of dress-up in the way they are in direct conversation with the runway design itself. The show’s threshold is shrouded with vegetation and overflowing with flowers of all different sizes and colors. The Moschino brand name is visible on the threshold only as a trace, an imprint created by negative space. The runway is made of glass and appears black, reflecting the walls that surround it—making it seem as if the models are walking in a fantasy space. The models reject ‘types’ through what they wear. Instead of being either ‘the biker’ or ‘the ballerina,’ they are both. Scott’s designs for Moschino expose how fashion shows can be taken too seriously in terms of how they can present a new standard of dress for women and instead the show parodies that notion through dress-up. The joke is particularly visible when the models walk out dressed as various flowers–the ultimate gift-object in society–which is often a metonymic representation for women in general. Scott’s use of humor in his designs to reject presentations of standards of dress for women, which makes visible the spaces in which women are told to exist are actually quite fetishistic and unsettling.

Anna Cleveland for Moschino Spring/Summer RTW 2018

Supermodel in-training, Kaia Gerber, opens the show. Gerber wears a feathered light-blue tutu, “My Little Pony” t-shirt paired with fishnets, black leather combat boots, and a black leather jacket (fig.1). Gerber’s look sets the tone for the biker-ballerina designs by Scott. The mixture of hard lines created by the biker aesthetic and the soft lines and colors of Hasbro style in conjunction with Gerber’s almost seraphic face further establishes the show’s theme of dress-up.

Gigi Hadid for Moschino Spring/Summer RTW 2018

There is no fluid transition between the first act and the second act of the show. Anna Cleveland opens act two by sauntering onto the runway dressed as a pink lotus flower picking out her own petals (fig 2). Scott’s flower-wear took the shape of lilies, roses, orchids, tiger lilies and tulips. The show ends with Gigi Hadid, literally dressed as a gifted bouquet of flowers (fig.3). The end of the show makes the viewer aware that the models (or flowers rather) were all gifts to be received by the eye. Scott complicates this in that Hadid’s make-up does not fit with the rest of the flowers that frame her face. Her make-up makes her appear older. Hadid’s face stands out amongst the flowers instead of blending in. Jeremy Scott’s designs use dress up as a means to complicate how clothes, our second skin, can actually reveal the physical body even more.

By Destinee Forbes

Lisa Milroy

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Lisa Milroy, Shoes, Oil on Canvas, Tate, 1985
Lisa Milroy, Shoes, Oil on Canvas, Tate, 1985

I first came across the artist Lisa Milroy in an art class at school – we were told to look at how she arranged everyday objects into groups and grids and created contemporary still life paintings of plates, hardware, tyres, and books. However, for me, it was her repetitive depiction of clothing and shoes that inspired the watered down derivatives that graced the pages of my GCSE sketchbook.

One of her earlier works from 1985 ‘Shoes’ that is now in the Tate collection, shows what appear to be the same pair of black, pointed-toe heels, in different arrangements and angles. The removal of the shoes from their context and their repetition abstracts and transforms them into a pattern and a series of shapes. However, there is a sense of intimacy and identity, conveyed in the paintings that perhaps stems from her choice to use shoes, which have such a personal connection to their wearer. Her painterly technique and unusual compositions in the representation of dress create a sense of personality and evoke the characters of the wearers despite the absence of the body or surrounding context. Her work greatly influenced my short-lived artistic aspirations, and they were the marriage of my interest in art and fashion.

Lisa Milroy, Dresses, Oil on Canvas, 1985
Lisa Milroy, Dresses, Oil on Canvas, 1985

Her early work was extremely important to me, so I was both delighted and surprised to come across her work again, at the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition. Amongst the paintings and the prints was a long, floral dress hanging on the wall from a white coat hanger. The larger-than-life garment trailed onto the floor, its hem section suspended on a wooden stand. Upon closer inspection, you could see that the dress was in fact a painting – the floral pattern of the fabric was painted onto the material, creating a three-dimensional painting that disturbs the limitations of the square canvas and blank wall. Milroy’s work is no longer the painterly depiction of clothing, but is the physical item of dress. Titled ‘Dress-Paintings’, these works are paintings created directly on dresses, some of which are still wearable items of clothing.

Lisa Milroy, One-To-One, Acrylic On Hand-Sewn Fabric, Hand-Painted Gloves, Wood, Clay, Coat Hanger And Nail, 2015
Lisa Milroy, One-To-One, Acrylic On Hand-Sewn Fabric, Hand-Painted Gloves, Wood, Clay, Coat Hanger And Nail, 2015
Lisa Milroy, One-To-One, Acrylic On Hand-Sewn Fabric, Hand-Painted Gloves, Wood, Clay, Coat Hanger And Nail, 2015
Lisa Milroy, One-To-One, Acrylic On Hand-Sewn Fabric, Hand-Painted Gloves, Wood, Clay, Coat Hanger And Nail, 2015

Milroy’s latest works question the definitions of what is art and what is clothing. Her ‘Dress-Paintings’ appear to be items of clothing in their form and three-dimensionality, but they are hung on the wall as objects of art. Her ‘Wearable Paintings’, further question how art is supposed to be displayed, with the body becoming the wall on which the painting is hung. They are different from fashion and objects of dress, yet they play on ideas of ‘fashion as art’, of the body as a site of individuality and self-expression through dress, and dress as a commodity. The art object is bought, owned and physically worn by its wearer – drawing comparisons to the exclusivity and projection of status in the consumption of high-end designer brands. Amongst the same repetitive prints and paintings at the Summer Exhibition, Milroy did something entirely unique; she created wearable art that at once highlights the absurdity of the art and fashion industries. However, she also created extremely beautiful and conceptual objects that are simultaneously art and items of dress.

 

Sources

http://www.lisamilroy.net/c/1000004/dresses

https://www.royalacademy.org.uk/artist/lisa-milroy-ra

http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artists/lisa-milroy-2220

Everyday Dress

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Everyday dress on stage
Everyday dress on stage

This month the Tanz Wuppertal Pina Bausch company presented their annual season at the Sadler’s Wells theatre in London. The company continues to stage and tour the work of the late choreographer, this year presenting ‘Ahnen’ from 1987 and ‘Auf dem Gebirge hat man ein Geschrei’ (On the Mountain A Cry Was Heard).

I was lucky enough to see these performances, and was struck by the use of dress in each production. The normality of the costumes in contrast to the set, which in the case of ‘Auf dem Gebirge hat man ein Geschrei’ was pine trees and a pile of soil in which the performers regularly rolled, sat and fell into, was extremely interesting. The costumes, which included tea dresses, suits and swimming costumes, worked in parallel with the choreography, to create a world that blurred the lines between reality and dreams. The performers are presented as ordinary people, not fixed in a specific time or place, but rooted in the everyday, participating in strange and erratic behaviour observed from life. Unlike other contemporary dance or ballet performances, where one is acutely aware of costume and characterisation, the costumes here felt like ready-to-wear garments. This is testament to the skill of Marion Cito, the costume designer for the company, who designed the ‘everyday’ costumes, whilst still allowing for the freedom of movement and flexibility necessary for a dancer.  Cito says of the costumes: ‘…the Tanztheater costumes are interesting in that they present the dancers primarily as normal people – in dresses, suits, high heels and everyday shoes – as opposed to performers in traditional leotards and ballet shoes’

 Cito, herself a trained dancer, took over the role of costume designer after the untimely death of Rolf Borzik in 1980. The first costumes she designed were for the piece ‘1980 – Ein Stück von Pina Bausch’, a piece that dealt with some of the issues of grief for the loss of Borzik. Cito continued the aesthetic and ethos of Borzik’s work, taking inspiration from everyday life that contrasts the often absurd, surreal and dysfunctional elements of what takes place on stage. Cito worked closely with Pina – looking through old photographs for inspiration. Unlike other dance companies where the costumes and sets are created before production begins, Bausch worked in a different way.

Cito had to design costumes ‘speculatively’, guessing the direction of the choreography – designing alongside Bausch’s choreographic process, entrusting each other with the shared task of creating a harmonious performance that only came together in the final stages of production.

Last year I saw these costumes on the London stage. The performers wore elegant dresses and suits, their splendid garb jarring with the poetic choreography, and the grass floor of the set. The glamorous eveningwear that features prominently in this piece came to be a common feature – a demonstration of beauty and desire, but also ‘…of how men and women interact with each other and use their clothing to hide or reveal themselves accordingly.’

Old English Costumes from the Collection Formed by Mr. Talbot Hughes: A Sequence of Fashions Through the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries (1913)

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Old English Costumes Screen Shot 2015-06-18 at 17.40.48

Summary 

Old English Costumes from the Collection Formed by Mr. Talbot Hughes: A Sequence of Fashions Through the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries was published in 1913 and presents a selection of the vast costume collection of the artist Mr. Talbot Hughes. Hughes was a British history, genre and landscape painter, and collected over 750 historical garments dating from c.1450 to 1870, which he used as studio props and references for his paintings. In 1913, Harrods Ltd bought his entire collection and displayed it for three weeks, to show the progression of historical dress, and to advertise their contemporary fashion range. After this, the collection was handed over to the Victoria and Albert Museum, where it is still housed in the permanent collection.

This book begins with a preface by Sir Cecil Harcourt Smith, then director of the V&A. He highlights the importance of the collection, ‘rich and splendid relics of ancient fashion’ and the history of dress as an essential adjunct to history and culture. As well as recognising the growth in appreciation for fashion history, he praises the inclusion of dressmaking as a subject in schools of arts and crafts and acknowledges the responsibility of the V&A to display and promote the skill and exemplary products of dressmaking to students and the public.

The book continues with some beautifully romantic descriptive notes by Philip Gibbs, reprinted from the November issue of The Connoisseur. These provide a personal and sensory account of his encounter with the collection – ‘I was able to examine their beauty, to handle their texture, and to study the historical evolution of dress in a delightful way.’ He too acknowledges the collection’s value to the public, and writes in such a way as to align costume to history, culture and art. He describes bygone eras, King’s fashions and satire, appealing to common knowledge and well-known imagery in his description of garments. Aligning the dresses to works by artists, such as Watteau and Hogarth, and writers, including Dickens and Austen, he provides an overview of fashion history through the lens of imagination and romance.

The rest of the book shows a selection of the fantastic collection in full-page photographs modelled by real people. The models, dressed in contemporaneous make-up, accessories and jewellery wear the historical garments and are placed in a contextual setting – outside, in a furnished room, or in a photographic studio. The photographs are beautifully shown in black and white, with a few full colour versions, showing the fine details of the garments.

Screen Shot 2015-06-18 at 17.41.11

Screen Shot 2015-06-18 at 17.41.03

Response 

For me the book was intriguing on a number of levels. At first glance, it provides an interesting insight into changing perceptions of the History of Dress and dressmaking in 1913. The collection’s inclusion in the V&A stands as testament to the value in which dress was held.

 It is also interesting to see the prominence of corporate sponsorship and advertisement in publications, even as early as 1913. The book is careful to mention, at every opportunity, the role that Harrods Ltd played in the acquisition of the collection, and their support of the V&A. The importance of the collection and the sincerity of the V&A’s gratitude are particularly pertinent given that the collection was in danger of being sold to an American department store and given to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Sir Cecil Harcourt Smith and Philip Gibbs’ discussions of the collection provide an insight into museological practices and the history of dress in recent history. Their romantic language and description of the costumes is both informative and enjoyable, and really places costume within the cultural consciousness. It was also interesting to see how the costumes were originally displayed in the V&A, in glass cabinets along the Long Gallery. It is fascinating to see how the curators have picked up on the ghostly and uncanny quality that disembodied dress can convey: ‘If we would bring back to the imagination the spirits of the past, we must clothe them in the habit of their age, and neglect no detail, however slight, which will help to complete the picture.’

In light of this, the book’s most striking and unusual aspect lies in the photographs themselves. The collection is dressed on live models and placed in contemporary historical settings, producing images that are both bizarre and intriguing. This practice would be now be frowned upon – conservation issues mean that garments in dress collections are never to be worn by a live model again. However, the images are stunningly beautiful and strange at the same time. The clash of temporalities between eighteenth century costume and an early twentieth century model is captivating. There is a sense of theatricality and fantasy that is entirely unique to a History of Dress book.

Beneath the Corset

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X-Ray image showing the ill-effects upon the ribcage. Dr. Ludovic O’Followell, Le Corset (1908)
X-Ray image showing the ill-effects upon the ribcage. Dr. Ludovic O’Followell, Le Corset (1908)
X-Ray images showing the ill-effects upon the ribcage. Dr. Ludovic O’Followell, Le Corset (1908)
X-Ray images showing the ill-effects upon the ribcage. Dr. Ludovic O’Followell, Le Corset (1908)

The corset is a highly problematic garment that represents a multitude of signifiers. Imbibed with connotations of gender, history, and sex, the corset is an example of how dress can transcend mere sartorial choice, and come to represent more than just undergarments. In whichever context the corset is placed, the undercurrents of its history and its present are brought to mind in a clash of temporalities, whereby contemporary connotations of sex and fetishism are placed onto the historical garment. More so than any other object of dress, the corset raises questions of the body, pain, control and oppression as well as history. When thinking about the way dress shapes and changes the body, one automatically thinks of the extremes; implants, tattoos and piercings. However, body modification through dress, or the way that the body is altered through dress is not relegated to subcultures and foreign groups, but is part of the history of dress, and the present fashion system.

The nineteenth century fashion for tight lacing that gave women tiny, waspish waists through the aid of whalebone corsets is an example of how dress can change a person’s physiognomy through extreme body manipulation. Though these effects are evident in the altered external silhouette of the body, the internal, and often damaging, modifications are difficult to comprehend.

In 1908, Dr. Ludovic O’Followell, a French doctor interested in the long-term effects of corsets on the body, published x-rays of women’s bodies altered by the constricting items. The images show the movement of the rib-cage structure, with the lower ribs pointing downwards and collapsing towards each other in some cases. Medical images and testimonies such as these, along with stories of organs being shifted, women fainting, and the suppression of appetites, provoked debate and calls for Dress reforms in the nineteenth century; a call that was answered when the uncorseted designs of Paul Poiret and Mariano Fortuny were in vogue.

The images also help to cement the contemporary preconception of the corset as a tool of bodily constriction and nineteenth century social oppression of women. The contemporary association of the corset to the body in pain, its relationship to fetish subcultures and therefore its alignment to sex, heighten this notion of the corset as a gendered, taboo, and archaic object of dress. Images of contemporary tight-lacing enthusiasts such as Ethel Granger, Mr. Pearl, Fakir Musafar, and Cathie Jung show the body transformed permanently through corsetry. The defiance of modern hetero-normative gender roles, ideal body shape, and silhouette through their practice distinguish them as ‘other’, and not part of the mainstream, everyday fashion system.

However, the corset is an object that has arguably never left fashion. Corsets appear and reappear each season as items of supporting underwear and risqué outerwear. Even the subculture icons of Ethel Granger and Mr Pearl entered the conventional fashion system. Photographs of Ethel Granger appeared in Vogue Italia, inspiring and featuring alongside an editorial photo-shoot starring Stella Tennant. Mr Pearl, a corsetiere, is renowned throughout the fashion world for his craftsmanship and skill, with regular commissions from Jean Paul Gaultier, Vivienne Westwood, Alexander McQueen and Thierry Mugler. He also designs the corsets worn by Dita von Teese during her Burlesque performances.

 For the majority of people though the corset is no longer an item of everyday wear, however it is impossible to say that the sartorial choices we make do not impact our bodies. Though not to the bone-crushing extent of the nineteenth century, our clothes leave imprints and indents in our skin. Items of underwear like bras or the fashion for tighter and tighter skinny jeans leave imprints and lines in our flesh from the restriction of these garments. The photographer Justin Bartels documented women’s bodies that show the ephemeral traces of clothing. As examples of body modification in fashion the photographs oppose the concept of twentieth century fashion as a site of bodily liberation. They suggest that contemporary standards of beauty have simply replaced older regimes of discipline. Where once a framework held the body in place through fabric and laces, our bodies are now kept in line through exercise regimes and diets. Bartels’ photographs literalise the traces of the nineteenth century whalebone corset on the modern female body.

 Sources:

Joanne Entwistle, The Fashioned Body: Fashion, Dress and Modern Social Theory (United Kingdom: Polity Press, 2004)

Elizabeth Wilson, Adorned in Dreams: Fashion and Modernity (United States: University of California press 1992)

Susan Vincent, The Anatomy of Fashion: Dressing the Body from the Renaissance to Today (United Kingdom: Berg Publishers, 2010) p.133.

 

50 YEARS OF HISTORY OF DRESS AT THE COURTAULD Alumni Interviews Part Four: Sarah Brown, Courtauld Institute of Art, MA (2013)

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Each month in 2015, we will post an interview with one of our alumni, as part of our celebrations of this year’s auspicious anniversary. The Courtauld’s History of Dress students have gone on to forge careers in a diverse and exciting range of areas.  We hope you enjoy reading about their work, and their memories of studying here.

SB2

 Sarah Brown, MA (2013)

Sarah Brown is a recent alumnus of the History of Dress MA. After working for Lord Snowden during her degree, she went on to work as a Project Assistant for Lord Snowden for a recent publication of his photographs. She went on to be an assistant at the Condé Nast archive and library, and is now an International Permissions Coordinator for Condé Nast.

You graduated fairly recently in 2013, do you miss the student life and the Courtauld?

I definitely miss student life at the Courtauld and being surrounded by like-minded people. I miss learning new things and the ability to go to exhibitions during the day – instead of on the weekends with the rest of London!

Having studied art history as an undergraduate, did you find there was a difference in mentality and discipline between history of art and history of dress?

I think I expected there to be a bigger difference than there was. History of art provided me with the perfect foundation to studying history of dress – in the sense of analysing an object, considering its historical context and relevance. However, I do think I approached history of dress in a much more interdisciplinary way. I was using sources and theories from sociology to anthropology to magazines, newspapers and films – and I loved the sense of freedom that it gave me. For me that was probably the main difference, that I could draw on a wider range of approaches.

Were fashion and the history of dress always of interest to you, or was it something entirely new to you?

History of dress was new to me in terms of studying it but not in terms of admiring and being fascinated by it! That all started when I was three years old and obsessed with the film Singin’ in the Rain. I was enthralled by the costumes and used it as my inspiration for any fancy dress game or party as a child. This extended into other ‘Old Hollywood’ films from the ‘40s to ‘60s, and when I was around 11 years old I discovered Vogue and found out the fashion world existed.

What was your favourite aspect of the course; do you have any particularly fond memories of your time at the Courtauld?

My favourite aspect of the course was visiting archives, such as the dress archive with Beatrice Behlen at the Museum of London. I loved analysing and studying actual garments, as there is only so much you can get from studying from an image or a description and it helped to bring the course to life. My fondest memories surround the people I became friends with at the Courtauld, from chatting too nosily in the library (or pub) to visiting exhibitions together. I learnt a lot from people who were not on my course – everything from 17th century Dutch art to digital and internet art, all just from chatting to people.

 Have you remained in contact with the Courtauld and in particular the History of Dress department?

I have through the alumni network such as attending drinks and the summer party. I recently got to see Rebecca Arnold, which was really great, and just speaking with her reignited my passion for the subject. And I still go to fashion/ history of dress exhibitions with a friend from my course.

As a recent graduate of the Courtauld, what have you been up to since graduating?

After graduating I was straight into working as Project Assistant on a book about Lord Snowdon’s life and career as a photographer and designer. Once the book was completed early last year I worked in the Condé Nast archive and library as an assistant. My duties varied from scanning Cecil Beaton negatives and prints (it was amazing to see how he cropped and retouched the photographs and how many images he took before the final published shot) to research on the Vogue books (I researched for Shoes, Hats and Bags). I also undertook research on photographers, such as Clifford Coffin and John Deakin. I then had a brief stint at the Courtauld! I came back as the temporary events coordinator and it was great to see how the university and gallery works behind the scenes. So I have been all over the place and have learnt so much from all my different experiences, colleagues and tasks.  I am now settled back at Condé Nast in the UK Permissions office.

You mentioned the photographer Lord Snowdon, what was your role working for him, and while there did you uncover some hidden gems within his archive?

I started out working on behalf of Snowdon in the Vogue archive – whilst I was still at the Courtauld. One day a week I would go and look through volumes of Vogue since the 1950s, sourcing his work that was published in the magazine. After graduating, I moved on to being the Project Assistant on the now published book Snowdon – A Life in View. It is an amazingly curated book looking at his career as a photographer and designer and includes ephemera and never before seen photographs, and largely looks at his work for Vogue in the 1950s and 1980s. I did everything from the scanning of the ephemera and Polaroids to writing the captions, fact checking and liaising with the designers, photo agencies and high profile contributors. I constantly found hidden gems whilst working in the dark room and studio, some of my favourites were the Polaroids from the 80s – one of an unrecognisable Tilda Swindon with a mane of curly golden hair! Other gems include letters from Diana Vreeland and the Queen.

You also mentioned the Condé Nast archive and your dissertation was on the ‘Worktown’ series of photographs by Humphrey Spender. Is it safe to say that photography and the role of dress in photography is of interest to you?

Absolutely! It is an ever-growing interest. I would love to study the role of dress in photography more and it is usually where I start my analysis of any photo; even if there is no people or clothes in the image I can comment on the absence of the clothes and the significance of that.

Can you talk about the photographers and images that have sparked your interest?

How long have we got? It all started with my undergraduate dissertation of August Sander and his photographs that were to be a typology of German people during the Weimar Republic. My thesis centred on his photograph Painter’s Wife. Her androgynous nature and return of the gaze, her almost aggressive stance, modern baggy, white outfit and slicked back hair intrigued me. I managed to write a whole thesis around this image and realised I wanted to continue studying photographers. Also my interest in the relationship between dress and photography probably stems from first seeing Lee Miller’s work, whilst I was an undergraduate, and being intrigued about how she could be a wartime as well as fashion photographer. Other photographers that have sparked my interest are Saul Leiter and his early colour work, Margaret Bourke White, Edith Tudor Hart, Martin Munkacsi and William Klein.

 Now you’ve recently started in a new role at Condé Nast. How are you finding it?

Very interesting! I get a real insight into how the magazines are run and all the business factors that go into making them run smoothly. I deal with all the foreign editions of Condé Nast magazines, from Vogue Germany and Vogue Australia to GQ Taiwan and Glamour South Africa. I also still get to go to the archive and do research on the Vogue books and syndication requests.  I love working with the international Condé Nast titles, despite not being able to read most of them. It has given me a much wider appreciation of how countries interpret the trends they see at fashion weeks and still incorporate their own style or take on them. In particular I love the fashion shoots in Vogue Italia and Vogue Korea.

Working at Condé Nast, do you feel a pressure to dress well or in a certain way for work? (By which I mean, are all the stereotypes and clichés surrounding fashion and lifestyle publications true?)

When I first started working there all I could think about was ‘what an earth am I going to wear?’ but I was put at ease immediately. There are some people who are dressed very fashionably or stylishly – which I love as you get a source of inspiration just walking down the hallway. But it is very relaxed and doesn’t play up to those fashion clichés. You can pretty much wear what you want, from smart work wear to a billowing pink skirt to jeans and trainers. So I usually dress for my mood.

Have you found that the course has shaped your career trajectory or was this always your intention?

In a way the course has completely shaped it. It was always my intention to work in fashion or dress history but I did not see it as a realistic or possible option – and the course changed that. What it taught me is that there is a whole world belonging to the history of dress and that you can get jobs in it or find different pathways that can take you there one day. The course has given me a sense of confidence that if you work hard and have passion for the subject, a career in the history of dress is possible – I couldn’t have asked for more really.

Do you have any further ambitions or goals, in either your career or personal life?

Oh yes – I guess my main goal is to be respected and distinguished in my field, which would hopefully be the history of photography and dress. Writing more for dress and photography magazines and publications would be a dream, as would becoming a curator. But right now I am focusing on the present and I am just making the most out of my current job.

If you could own one item of dress, from any period in history or by any designer, what would it be and why?

The piece that first came to mind is the Christian Dior ‘Junon’ dress from 1949. It was the first piece of clothing I ever wrote an essay on (when I was fifteen in art & design) and it has always stuck with me as it is when I realised how much I loved researching and writing about dress history. The dress has a full skirt that is covered in sequins and beads and it seems to embody the glamour and grandeur of the era of haute couture and ‘Old Hollywood’, yet it doesn’t look far from a Vivienne Westwood or Alexander McQueen design – showing its timelessness.

Do you have any words of wisdom for any current or future History of Dress students?

Live in the moment. Throw yourself into the course and you will get so much out of it. Enjoy being able to devour books in the library and always pick essay and dissertation topics that you are passionate and excited about. Even try and get an internship whilst you’re studying and stay in touch with curators you meet and each other, and, most importantly, listen to Rebecca!

MA Study Trip to New York City: The Fashion Institute of Technology Archive

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The MA class admiring a beaded dress from the 1920s.
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Muslin copy of a 1920s Chanel dress.

On one of our museum visits in New York, we were lucky enough to be shown a selection of objects from the Fashion Institute of Technology Archives. On arrival, we were greeted by an alumnus of our course, Emma McClendon, now an assistant curator at the museum at FIT, with whom we discussed our similar academic and Courtauld experiences, and then our not so academic love of Percy Pigs that we had brought over as a souvenir from the UK.

Her colleague, Liz Wei, then brought us to a study room in which we came face-to-face with the garments, fashions and trends that have graced our books, seminars and imaginations. On a packed, non-descript clothing rail were some of the most beautiful and well-preserved examples of dress from America and Europe ranging from the 1920s to the late 60s. We were shown couture, eveningwear, daywear, sportswear, and everything-in-between-wear from European designers such as Chanel, Schiaparelli, Vionnet, and Paul Poiret. We were also shown examples of ready-to-wear and couture by American designers such as Adrian, Charles James, Phil Macdonald and Claire McCardell.

We were able to get familiar with the objects (without actually touching them) and see the minute details of stitching, beading and construction, and really gain an understanding of the craftsmanship of these beautiful garments. Having discussed these objects in an abstract manner in seminars and readings, we were able to finally see the objects themselves and fully appreciate the properties and themes that encapsulated fashion in the interwar period in a tangible way.

Unlike other fashion archives, FIT also functions as an educational institute, and so has a unique set of muslin copies of select objects. This allows design students to physically interact with garments that would otherwise be too delicate to handle. This allowed us, as dress historians, to grasp an understanding of dressmaking techniques, and see the innovative and diverse methods of construction employed by couture designers, tailors and home dressmakers in these historical garments.

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Fortuny tea dress curled up in its storage box.
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Detail of pleats on the Fortuny dress.

Despite the feeling of deep reverence for all of the objects introduced to us, for me, there was one standout object. Unlike the other garments hanging on the clothing rail, this garment was curled up inside a square white box. Furled up in a whirl of finely pleated silk, was a stunning, peach-coloured, Mariano Fortuny dress and belt from the 1930s. When the dress was unravelled, the intricate tight pleats sprung forth to reveal the long, elegant sheath and the Venetian glass beads that decorated the seams. The pleating, loose-fit and columnar style of the dress reflected its original intent as a Tea Gown, to be worn without a corset, and on more relaxed social occasions, entertaining at home. This garment encompassed concepts of modernity, machinery and the changing activities of women in the 1930s, despite its classical inspirations. Remarkably, this notion of modernity still survives within the garment today, with the endurance of its tight pleating that would rival Issey Miyake’s authority of the technique. Indeed, the gown is as fresh as a Pleats Please garment available for purchase today. Much like Miyake’s technological textile research, Fortuny experimented with machinery and techniques to create his unique pleating system, a process that is still a mystery to this day. Only a few pieces of archival information on his pleating process remain. This method used a pulley system and included heated ceramic rollers through which the silk was passed to create the tight folds. Though this is still speculative, as Fortuny kept the process a well-guarded secret and it seems never recorded it. Women would have to resend their dresses to Fortuny to be re-pleated, if they had been flattened from sitting, or been dampened.

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Detail of the top of the Fortuny dress.
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Detail of the bottom of the Fortuny dress.

The technological innovation of Fortuny’s pleating, the modernity of the garment, its classical sources and its relatively intact condition, seem almost anachronistic and belie its era. It was this clash of temporalities, the captivating mystery surrounding Fortuny, and its resonances in contemporary fashion that provoked a visceral response in me.