The Little Black Dress of Yore

I don’t need to much go into the history or origin of the famous ‘Little Black Dress’ as except to mention that it was Coco Chanel who brought it in fashion, rescuing it from its relegation to traditional mourning wear. (The irony of my lamenting the incessant donning of ‘widow’s weeds’ prevalent today is not lost on me.)

American Vogue dubbed it in 1926, ‘The Chanel “Ford” – the frock that all the world will wear.’ How right they were!

In 1960, less than 40 years later, E. Merriam, a writer on the fashion industry said: ‘Functional: a simple black dress that costs more than $100. Understated: A simple black dress that costs more than $200. Nothing: A black dress that costs more than $300, as in “a little Nettie Rosenstein nothing.”’

I’ve never heard of Nettie Rosenstein (1890–1980). She was in fact renowned for her little black dresses, running the gamut from day dress to evening, and also for costume jewellery. She was born in Austria, and her family migrated to America in the 1890s. Her fashion label was based in New York City between c.1913–1975, beginning with a home dressmaking business. In 1919, she was approached by the I. Magnin department store, and she began wholesaling; two years later she opened her own establishment. [Wikipedia]

Divine 1930s dresses by Nettie Rosenstein (original links of images broken)Unsurprisingly, I own only one LBD, this late 1950s or early 60s dress above – ‘Baker of Melbourne’ – which I bought in a vintage store many years ago. It dips into a vee at the back, and originally had a small white floral lace appliqué on the right shoulder – a tasteful one – but one day I removed it. It’s a pity I don’t know what became of it. I wear this dress very rarely.

I do have a casual black jersey dress as well, which is designed on Grecian lines that I wear on hot days as it is loose and comfortable, and also a Large Black Dress of black silk satin, with a lace insert on the bodice. I call it my ‘summer Gothic’ dress, as while the top is comfortably light for hot weather, the floor-length skirt is divided into three tiers that billow out dramatically.

‘The little black dress always looks better in white.’ — Bill Blass

I am a proponent of the Little White Dress however, and own many. I wholeheartedly agree with Bill Blass, the New York fashion designer who quipped in 2002, ‘The little black dress always looks better in white.’

Below are some tearsheets that are admittedly quite old (May 2001), but they show some seminal moments in the history of the LBD. (Doris Day’s 1959 dress is cut on similar lines to my own.) Click the images for larger versions.

Fashion quotations from: A to Z of Style, Amy de la Haye, V & A Publishing 2011.

Photo: April 2016

From Australian In Style magazine, May 2001From Australian In Style magazine, May 2001

A Feather in Her Cap

Jane Lambert sinamay headpiece with clipped turkey feather trimRecently I wrote a story about the true origins of the fascinator, which has in the last decade or so been a popular substitute for a ‘proper’ hat at Melbourne’s Spring Racing Carnival.

I have generally been quite vocal about how much I hate fascinators, but to be fair, it is the cheap, common variety that I dislike so intensely – the ones that all look the same, and do not display the wit and imagination of a dedicated and passionate milliner.

Nerida Winter horsehair and silk organza bow headpieceI thought I’d show you some I’ve had hiding up my sleeve for quite a few years: I scanned these tearsheets in 2009 and never posted them. Most of these are fascinators – two are what I would define as actual hats – and I find them quite tolerable! Some I like more than others, these first two for example that do show wit: feathers shaped into arrows (it reminds me of William Tell), and horsehair fanned out like a real – albeit crazy – hairstyle. All of them however feature feathers in some form.

The photographer was Troy House, and the pages come from Australian Harper’s Bazaar, circa 2009.

H’ATELIER parisisal pillbox with faux pearl trimNeil Grigg opal-finished cock feather tiny topper crown hatNeil Grigg sinamay cocktail hat with pleated crinveil and sinamay, satin and quill trimNerida Winter parisisal hat with net and quill trim

Sumptuous Stripes

James Galanos evening dress, 1955. From Fashion: The Whole Story, by Marnie Fogg (Thames & Hudson, 2013)If you knew how much I love stripes, particularly red and white ones, you would not be surprised to read that I nearly fainted with delight when I flipped a page in a book and saw this evening dress. It is from 1955, by American designer James Galanos (1924–).

This graceful gown is made from printed silk chiffon; note the nautical influence in the bathing suit style bodice and the insouciant knot in the overskirt. It is replicating a displaced middy collar. The term ‘middy’ derives from ‘midshipman’, a student at a naval academy, and is used to describe a sailor collar.

How I would love to swan around on the open sea in this!

~

From Fashion: The Whole Story, edited by Marnie Fogg (Thames & Hudson, 2013).

James Galanos evening dress, 1955. From Fashion: The Whole Story, by Marnie Fogg (Thames & Hudson, 2013)

Nouveauté

When I was shopping for vintage paper to use in my fine art work, I bought a French women’s fashion and lifestyle magazine called Nouveauté (Novelty). This issue was published on the eve of World War II, in August 1939.

I do find the cover rather odd however: the model’s attire is unappealingly reminiscent of juvenile folk costume – and what on earth is that strange spiky thing skewering her straw hat? I cannot hazard a guess!

Most of the content inside is uninteresting to me (and unintelligible since I only speak a few words of French), but there are a few wonderful fashion illustrations, which you can see below. What I’d really love is to get hold of some French Vogues from this era!

Style Over Stub Stance

While we are on the subject of ballet flats, let’s take a moment to assess this Miu Miu shoe in this month’s issue of Australian Vogue.

Firstly, the styling of the shot is very eye-catching, so kudos to Vogue’s team for that.

Secondly, while the actual design of the shoe at first seems cute with its charming soft-core punk influence (except for the twee unicorn or whatever it is dangling off the gingham tie), at second and at third thought one realises that:

a) this shoe is excessively trendy and the look of it will wear out long before the soles do – if it really is ‘the flat of the season’ as stated, it will become utterly ubiquitous and be thereby rendered common;

b) they are made from satin, and satin ballet flats – necessarily lined for protection of the foot against stubs and such – are notoriously hard and unforgiving*, while the fabric also stains extremely easily, and tears;

this shoe is excessively trendy and the look of it will wear out long before the soles do …

c) there are very unsavoury connotations of foot-binding in the design; and

d) taking into account points a, b, and c, the $1,200 designer price tag is ludicrous. (It makes my $165 Sambag flats seem cheap – and the actual $30 I paid for them a mere pittance.)

In fact already, the longer I look at this shoe, the uglier it seems. The image’s styling is deceptive. Is it in fact a case of style over substance?

*I will concede that as I have not walked in these particular satin flats, I cannot state with utmost veracity that they are uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s where that extra $1000 comes in?