A Mille-Feuille of Crin

Mousketeer :: Wonder // Ina’s 1935 // No flashWhen I was a kid I just loved the Mickey Mouse Show – I wanted so much to be a Mouseketeer, but I lived in Australia. When I saw this vintage hat on Etsy my first thought was that it looked like a pair of Mickey Mouse ears – albeit a more sophisticated version, made from layer upon layer of black crin.

The Package :: Wonder // Ina’s 1935 // No flashCrin, or horsehair, is a type of nylon or polyester millinery material that has a similar appearance to tulle. Crin (the French word for horsehair) is actually short for crinoline, the undergarment worn by women to create the appearance of full skirts. The stiff fabric used in its construction was woven from a weft of natural horsehair and a warp of cotton or linen thread.

Hatpins :: Wonder // Ina’s 1935 // No flashThis pretty little cocktail hat – a mille-feuille of crin, if you will – is meant to be fixed to the head with a hatpin. Cindy, the seller at The Vintage Hat Shop, provided two pearl-topped pins (at over 10cm in length, they are almost daggers), but my hairstyle precludes my employing them for this purpose. I will either attach a hat elastic, or tack on a comb. Now all I need to do is organise the printing of my name on a polonecked top …

A Mille-Feuille of Crin :: Wonder // Ina’s 1935 // No flash

Queen of the May

Did you know it’s May Day today? In the northern hemisphere this time of year was traditionally celebrated with dancing around maypoles and the crowning of a May Queen in honour of springtime fertility. The origin of May Day holidays lie in the festivals of Flora, the Roman goddess of flowers, and the Gaelic Beltane.

I am crowning myself Queen of the May today with a vintage 1950s red velvet bandeau bedecked in silk flowers. This gathering of red and white carnations is over-the-top in both senses of the word. 

Queen Guinevere’s Maying, John Collier, 1900

May Day, being a spring festival, is not celebrated in Australia since May falls in autumn (pardon the pun). What a pity, because what silly fun it must be to skip around a flower-bedecked maypole like Guinevere. Amusingly, Wikipedia describes a May Day procession as ‘cheerfully pointless’ – but that’s the point surely? Everyone feels more lighthearted when the sun shines, and when better to throw an alfresco party!

From Alice to Zebra

I have two books on style to review: A to Z of Style, compiled by Amy de la Haye and illustrated by Emma Farrarons (V&A Publishing, 2011) and What on Earth Are You Wearing – A Michipedia of Fashion, authored by Chloe Quigley and Daniel Pollock and illustrated by Kat Macleod (Penguin Viking, 2010). Both were published quite a while ago now, but I have recently reread them and was interested to note the vast difference between them.

Both of these books are illustrated and both are organised in alphabetical order; both of them carefully consider the importance of design and layout. They are both eminently easy to read, with bite-sized, easily digested chunks of text. Both of these books are clothbound, which is far more tactile and lovelier to hold and read than an average text, and each of them have convenient red satin placeholder ribbons.  

One of these books is practical and informative and amuses at the same time. A font of logically categorised information is at one’s fingertips, with plenty of unexpected and thought-provoking entries and inspiration on every single page.

The other, while beautiful to look at and filled with gorgeous illustrations, is both exasperating in its haphazard organisation, enormous gaps and misinformation, and humour that is both unsophisticated and gratuitous apart from a few witty entries. This is a book only for those who already possess a wide base of fashion knowledge and who seek a momentary diversion when they have a few minutes to spare. This is not a book that will be of any use to a teenager needing some pointers in personal style, although it is more likely to appeal from a purely visual standpoint.

However I am not at all surprised by the silliness of the text, having years ago unsubscribed from the e-newsletter Michi Girl, on which this book is founded. The co-authors’ first book Like a Give a Frock is of far better quality in respect of the writing (the illustrations, also by Macleod are as superlative).

The editor of the first book, Amy de la Haye, is a Professor of Dress History and Curatorship so it is no wonder that her book is erudite and must gain respect as an authority on the subject matter. In the introduction she states:

‘The quotations and definitions cited and fully referenced within this ‘quotationary’ are drawn from non-fiction sources; mostly auto-biographies by fashion designers and texts authored by their clients, fashion commentators and authorities on correct etiqette. The statements date from post 1850, the period which laid the foundations of today’s global fashion industry, and they define fashion as it relates to women.’

I would recommend to anyone interested in fashion and its history, in style and etiquette, to purchase A to Z of Style – you will have not a single moment’s regret. What on Earth Are You Wearing is best for diehard readers of fashion style books (of which I am one), illustrators, or lovers of fashion illustration. 

Please scroll down and click on images for larger versions and easy reading.

AN A TO Z OF STYLE

 

WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU WEARING?

 

Saving Brown

Dramatic full fat shape and sheen make this chocolate brown jacket exciting

Brown is dull

It’s no coincidence that shades of brown are often named after yummy things: chocolate, caramel, cinnamon, latte, coffee, walnut, chestnut, etc. It’s the fashion industry’s sneaky way of trying to make us buy into this boring hue.

Texas desert

Brown is everywhere

Possibly the commonest colour in nature apart from green, brown is seen in wood, soil, peat, animal fur, human hair, skin pigmentation and other plant life such as nuts, seeds and withered leaves. The earthy tone can be associated with autumn, humility (think of a monk’s dun-coloured habit), and, let’s face it … um, how shall I phrase it politely? I know you know what I’m talking about … yes, poo. One person’s caramel is another’s baby-poo brown. (Sorry, that’s gross. But memorable. Just don’t Google that term. And don’t say I didn’t warn you if you do!)

Brown is old

The word comes from Old English brún, named for any dusky or dark shade of colour. The first recorded use of the spelling change to ‘brown’ was in 1000, and the current meaning derived from Middle English in the fourteenth century.

Brown is practical

Some brown shades seem particularly suited to practical boots, shoes, and warm winter outerwear, possibly because historically people used animal skins to fashion these: the wool of sheep and goats, camelhair, cowhide and other leather, and furs. The camel coat for instance – whether camel by fibre or merely in colour – remains a true classic today.

Calf leather jacket and fox fur cap: vintage hides in rich hues are lit up with a 70s sky blue blouseKaviar Gauche camel coat, 2011Everything is brown in Peasantworld. They might be dancing, but are they truly having fun, dressed in brown? Peasants Dancing Outside an Inn, by David Teniers the Younger, (1610–1690)

Brown is staid

Perhaps it is because before the creation of inexpensive commercial dyes, coloured cloth was associated with the wealthy – the common people wore natural earthy shades in their everyday clothing. It is also a practical colour: it is less likely to show dirt or stains. Definitely not romantic.

Brown is not showy

Brown recedes into the background. The popular conception of the aforementioned monk is a rotund and balding little man scuttling about in a rough brown tunic – hardly an alluring figure. And after all, how often does one see a Hollywood starlet wearing a glamorous gown in brown, really? The only person I have ever heard claim a liking for brown is my friend Rapunzel, who has red hair. Supposedly brown suits redheads. Colour theorists clutching at straws, I say. 

Friar Tuck, one of Robin Hood’s band of merry men A vintage 50s mink and apricot satin halo bandeau are matched with a dusky pink blouseA warm golden brown contrasts strongly with soft pink

Brown is rescued!

Offset by other prettier hues however, brown can become more palatable. In particular, light shades of blue, pink, lilac, or mint look wonderful with brown. By this rule it should follow that yellow or orange would harmonise with brown too, yes? Here it becomes a matter of personal taste; such a colour palette is too earthy for me.

… remember SNAP’s little mantra on brown: perk it up, don’t tone it down

A vintage 50s russet feather toque heads into startling territory with the addition of a bold ostrich feather, and the blouse that shimmers between mauve and lilac is slightly and deliciously off a matching tone.

By the same token, brown is inoffensive with white, cream, or some shades of grey, though black works best with lighter shades like camel or beige, but to my mind it is too easy to match brown with other neutrals, and therefore it is uninteresting. It’s all about the contrasts: a strong hot or candy pink is fabulous with fawn or taupe, likewise with vivid turquoise or unshrinking violet. 

Just remember SNAP’s little mantra on brown: perk it up, don’t tone it down – and you won’t go wrong. 

Back to chocolate brown: a 50s wool toque trimmed with mink pompoms is paired with the brightest cobalt and violet 50s frock.

Underpinnings

Petticoats

Historically, petticoats were a woman’s undercoat worn to be displayed beneath an open gown; or a tight, usually padded undercoat worn by men over a shirt and under a doublet (jacket). The origin of the word is the late Middle English period: ‘petty coat’, literally meaning small coat. Later, worn under outer garments, the function of the petticoat was to give warmth, or to create a fashionable shape by adding volume beneath a skirt or dress – rather than from notions of modesty.

The petticoat has gone in and out of mainstream fashion since the sixteenth century to Christian Dior’s New Look in the mid 1940s and 50s, and to the present day with subcultures such as gothic, steampunk and Lolita.

Arguably today the most popular notion of a petticoat must be the full, ruffled shape associated with Victorian times, or the tulle crinolines of 1950s prom queens. More often than not, these were white. In previous centuries though, petticoats were worn to be seen, either deliberately revealed by openings or draping of the overskirts, or by accident with the force of a high wind lifting a hooped or crinoline skirt. Petticoats were therefore highly decorative, made from beautiful fabrics in glorious colours and trimmed with ribbons and lace. They were gorgeous enough to be worn as skirts in themselves.

Petticoat, probably French, 1870s; click image for more information and alternate viewsCotton and linen petticoat, American, 1883; click image for more information and alternate viewsSilk embroidered French petticoat, 1895-98; click image for more informationSissi, Empress Elisabeth of Bavaria, wears a gown fully supported by petticoats in 1859Fashion that bustles, from The Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine, November 1869Susan Lawrence (from Ipswich) wearing a dark coloured dress, with many folds of fabric pulled up over a large bustle at the rear, c 1887

Bustles

By contrast, the bustle was a rather unattractive foundation garment with little or no grace, in fashion predominantly in the mid-to-late nineteenth century. Worn at the back, just under the waist, the primary function of the bustle was to preserve the shape of full, draped skirts and keep them from dragging. The heavy skirts of the day tended to flatten from sheer weight during everyday wear, even merely sitting or moving about.

Different styles of bustles came and went over the decades, initially evolving from a crinoline in the mid 1860s when the shape was worn quite low and often fanning out to form a train. It was then lifted to form a pronounced hump shape immediately below the waist, with the skirts falling sharply to the floor, very much changing the silhouette. It grew to monstrous proportions in the mid 1880s but was out of fashion by the end of the decade.

British bustle made from cotton and metal, c 1871; click image for more information Linen and metal bustle, American, c 1885; click image for more information

The attractive ‘S-shape’ figure of the day that accentuated a tiny waist meant that a curve at the back of the skirt balanced the curve of the bust (exaggerated by corsets in their turn), and gentler versions of the bustle were worn into the early twentieth century.

Today bustles are rarely seen except in the realm of sensationalist haute couture, bridal fashion and the aforementioned subcultures – petticoats, with their more uniform silhouette are easier on the eye and more forgiving to wear.

Fashion Notes

My vintage petticoat was borrowed from the Melbourne Theatre Company’s costume department to give fullness to my own 1920s skirt, which made part of my Queen of Hearts costume for the theatre’s Christmas party last year. The full skirt is gathered at the waist, with rope sewn into the hem to create shape and give weight. There is also what I have dubbed a ‘mini bustle’ at the back.

When I first donned it, the petticoat felt quite heavy, but I became accustomed to it surprisingly quickly and managed to spend quite a bit of time on the dance floor without feeling the weight at all – it created a pleasing swing in fact. The camisole, possibly 80s or 90s, is my own, and was bought in a charity store years ago. 

Gallery

(Left) wire and cotton American bustle, c1880; (right) cotton and metal bustle, probably American, early 20th centurySilk petticoat, British mid-eighteenth century; click image for more information and alternate views(Left) American silk petticoat from the early 1900s; (right) cotton and silk petticoat, American, 1900-1948

* All images in the above gallery are from The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York