Shoppin' For Schiaparelli

Broken rhyme, I realize-- Elsa Schiaparelli (sounds like Skap-ah-rel-li) is apparently the designer of my dreams. I remember reading a skimpily illustrated article by (about?) Marisa Berenson, her granddaughter, in which I was given a correct pronounciation of her name, but no concept of how stunning her work is.

Guys. Guys. This is 1920's-1950's stuff. GUYS. This looks like it could have been designed, oh...tomorrow?

I trawled the web and the extensive MoMa holdings to bring you the very best of "billion dollar Lisa buys what she wants: Schiaparelli edition".

Dress made to look like trompe l'oeil tears in fabric? Check. Lobster pin? Check.

The jacket with the vase/faces as well as the Sister Golden Hair top were collaborations with Cocteau. The tear dress, the shoe hat (below), and the skeleton dress? Salvador Dali. Sure, why not? The skeleton dress at upper right is just tip of the blade edgy, and it was part of a collection released in 1938. How?

Though the sweater in the right hand corner looks like something you could find knocked-off at TJ Maxx (keep an eye peeled), in 1927 this double knit/op art look was the first of its kind, brand, brand new, and very often copied. In the upper left and bottom right, two pieces from Schiap's Circus collection (1938). Do you see that the buttons are acrobats? Do you see that my heart is melting? The pink and gold of the sunburst jacket are also tops.

Shoe shaped hat? Check. Compact shaped like rotary dial? Check.

There were a series of bustle dresses of which I couldn't find high enough resolution images-- the one in the upper right is a pretty good indicator of the style. After all my hate speech in my last post regarding frippery and fashion, a "better safe than sorry" policy towards designs... THIS, people, is how it is done. The top right looks like a Bowie concocotion crosshatched through with the 1940's-- the colors are perfect. All the colors, actually, are perfect. The two dresses at bottom are somehow both demure and outre...how does she make this happen?

Both look like something made this year. Actually from the 30's.

In the future, when money is no object-- you and me, Schiap. We have a date.

Additionally:

1) I continue to marvel at what conservationists can DO with fabric. Here, the Philadeplphia Museum of Art (which immediately puts me in mind of the Alfred C. Barnes collection, the memory of which still slightly burns me, but we'll let it slide for now) details four items and the conservation work that restored those items to their original splendor.


2) The fascinating (and like Marilyn Monroe quotes, bound to be misapplied, misinterpreted, misquoted by someone, SOMEWHERE, just as I speak) 10 Commandments for Women:

1. Since most women do not know themselves they should try to do so.

2. A woman who buys an expensive dress and changes it, often with disastrous result, is extravagant and foolish.

3. Most women (and men) are color-blind. They should ask for suggestions.

4. Remember-twenty percent of women have inferiority complexes. Seventy percent have illusions.

5. Ninety percent are afraid of being conspicuous, and of what people will say. So they buy a gray suit. They should dare to be different.

6. Women should listen and ask for competent criticism and advice.

7. They should choose their clothes alone or in the company of a man.

8. They should never shop with another woman, who sometimes consciously or unconsciously, is apt to be jealous.

9. She should buy little and only of the best or cheapest.

10. Never fit a dress to the body, but train the body to fit the dress.

11. A woman should buy mostly in one place where she is known and respected, and not rush around trying every new fad.

12. And she should pay her bills.

3) Add to my list the transcendant Mae West couch by Dali. Girl's got to have set dressing as well as costume, right?

The Golden Age of Couture at the Frist

"Your clothes are all made by Balmain/ And there's diamonds and pearls in your hair..."

Just saw the couture exhibit at the Frist this week with my fiance's lovely mom... while strolling through the tangle of mannequins, Beaton prints, and Théâtre de la Mode dolls, we might've seemed, insidiously enough, more interested in the several beasts among the beauties-- dresses with beribboned, be-feathered, be-bustled, and honestly bewildering style choices, hidden in plain view, amongst some of the prettiest robes de soir you've ever seen! To the same nagging internal voice that tells me "Let's see YOU make something that complicated!"-- respectfully, my mother's "It takes as much time to make a good batch of cookies as it does an awful batch of cookies" comes to mind. You put 600 (wo)man hours into...that. Ok. Fair enough. Why couldn't you at least make it pretty?

First, the minor offenders.

Deb taught me the Yiddish word ongepotchket (which I can only spell grace à Google...it seems to sound more like "oongapacht")-- meaning "slapped together without form, excessively and unesthetically decorated". This word was repeated...well, repeatedly, throughout our viewing of the collection. "Ugh!" she'd exclaim, "Ongepotchket! I mean, seriously?", as we presque pressed our noses to the plexiglass, gawking at a lace explosion topped with a large bow towards the back of a Dior. A DIOR, mind you.

While the many of the items photograph admirably, I am here to say, in person, the dresses above and the ones that follow looked a hot mess. Flanking "maribou dream" (a dress nerve alone could not pull off... maybe nerve and actually being Lana Turner) to its left and right is a dress worn by Lady Alexandra, wife of the Naval attache to Paris--nice work if you can get it. At first glance, the dress was displayed in such a way as a passerby really couldn't get a good look at the back of it. When seen from the back, however, the bustle, puts it over the top and into Anna and the King of Siam territory. Something about the high neck and willowy bodice clashes awfully with the full, draped and semi-hooped skirt. While many high necked, bodice embellished, to-the-toe dresses of the 40's and 50's are gorgeous in their ability to make a girl look sexy without showing an ounce more skin than, say, a nun's habit (think Lauren Bacall), this one just doesn't do it for me. The same dress with a slim skirt would've been so much more fun. As for the feather one, no idea. All night you'd be brushing tiny bits of afterfeather out of your face. Another dress that is less lovely in person.

Major fashion crimes:

1) 2)

3) 4) 5)

While, understandably, I would probably wear any one of these dresses given the proper measurements and an excuse to go out, should we really "look to" these New Look dresses for inspiration? I couldn't believe the number of flat black, frippery-laden frocks in one place. How many of these, despite being vintage and couture, would put you on the lesser of Mr. Blackwell's lists?

1) Weird, saddle bag hip panels make no sense. An otherwise gorgeous velvet evening gown is turned bizarre-o. Notice that even the slim, slim, slim Harper's Bazaar-ette to the right can't quite pull it off without standing at a slight angle.

2) Simple dress turned strange by the explosion of tulle in the back. While it is necessary to make an impact in couture design, "less would've been more", please? I kind of thought that would be the entire point of the exhibit, in the vein of Chanel-- to take something LIKE THIS and deconstruct it into something less frou-frou. But no. Again, the side view is flattering-- from the front and back this dress was even more ungainly.

3) Those are wooden, spiral buttons all over. "Oh, what is that on that dress? Wooden buttons? Why are they all over the dress?". Just to be silly, I guess. Didn't work.

4 & 5) Possibly the specific dresses at which the teaching of the word "ongepotchket" was aimed. Looks a little like hornets have landed at spaced intervals all over the first dress. Both were drab and overwrought.

I understand the aim of couture to be statement-- I was just disappointed with the examples.

But enough negative thinking! On to the good stuff.

What I loved (cue My Special Angel by Bobby Helms as I dream a little dream of this ensemble) :

The two to the left: I love this suit. GOD, I love this suit. From the V&A website, the collection's home museum:

"'Bar' is one of the most important designs from Dior’s first collection. The tight-fitting jacket has padded hips which emphasise the tiny waist. The long pleated wool skirt, backed with cambric, is exceptionally heavy. "

Do you understand, there are essentially panniers under that skirt...??? Blows my mind. The idea that in 1947 (and again in 1955), you could do something that had been done, but in a new way, gives me hope for 2010.

One right: another example, a British take on the Dior. My beloved, aforementioned Bacall would have been proud. The right side of the jacket, and the way it curves, is so great.

I was fascinated when I checked out the exhibit website to see the condition in which Dior's Zémire originally came to the museum. This kid had a long and hard journey into the hands of the V & A, possibly being stored in a flooded Parisian basement and (haphazardly) altered for use in an amateur dramatic league. Look what conservation efforts can do for a piece!!

Last, but not least, Theatre de la Mode dolls.

I had no IDEA even couture houses had traveling samples! I've seen chests-of-drawers and Coca-Cola coolers and all sorts of odds and ends scaled small for portability and salesman-ease, but never a couture dress AND model! While the item to the left was my favorite (tiny) dress, the gal on the right is Miss Virginia Lachasse, modelled on a real clothing model for House of Lachasse in 1954. Below, you can see her (enormous) collection of accessories and clothes. A tiny mink coat, perfume, a cigarette case with cigarettes and lighter, and what is thought to be the tiniest pair of stockings ever produced. To live the life of this doll.....

FYI:

Wall Street Journal slideshow of the exhibit

V&A Exhibit website EXTENSIVE website on the exhibition from its home musuem. Even has a printable pattern from the 50's so you can design your own couture dress! Wouldja b'lieve?

Remuzzi's apartment

These. People. Took. Pictures. Of. Their. Apartment. In. 1960.

As if it were a personal gift to me in 2010! Thank you, Remuzzi family, for being so house proud. This apartment almost makes me want to start from scratch. Almost. Doesn't it look like a set from Mad Men? The floral drapes! The blue-with-yellow-and-orange-accent-pillows-couch! The TV next to the record player in a proto-entertainment center!













Couldn't you just die? Click on any picture to see a larger picture (the better to peruse you with, my dear).