I’m very fond of pink and green together, so it’s not surprising that I gravitated towards a green dress after last week’s pink dress. In an odd way, this week’s dress also remind’s me of last week’s dress. Will it remind you of it too? And if so, for all the right reasons, or all the wrong reasons?
Last Week: a 1906 day ensemble in deep pink
One of the interesting things that comes out of Rate the Dress is how much our prior perceptions colour the way we see a garment, whether they are distinctly personal, or a general product of the time and culture we live in. Usually this is a good thing, or at least neutral. Last week it got out of hand, and revealed some of the unpleasant underbelly of the society we live in.
Luckily a quick clean up of the comments and a reminder to be kind got things back on track, and led to an amazing discussion: mostly about the dress, but also about negativity and positivity, how the internet changes our behaviour, and (of course) how our cultural perception changes our viewpoint.
So what did we think of the dress: well, almost everyone could acknowledge that the workmanship that went into it was amazing. And the pink colour was pretty popular, as was the embroidery.
The tassels, not surprisingly, were…divisive. A few of you liked them, either because they were so evocative of that period, or because you thought they were a really clever touch that tied the neckline together (or both). A good portion of you just found them distracting, and the rest couldn’t get past their placement on the chest: even though they weren’t at the right height or width for nipples, that’s what some of you saw, and the rest of you couldn’t help but feel they were just asking to be dragged through soup!
It ended up being very much a dress of two parties: a large block of people who loved the dress and rated it in the 8-10 range, and a small block of people who really didn’t, and rated it four and under.
The Total: 8.7 out of 10
Exactly the same as last week!
This week: a mid 1860s dress in green
This week’s dress is classic mid-1860s: a full skirt just beginning to take the back-heavy elliptical shape that would evolve into the bustle of the 1870s, dropped shoulders and roomy sleeves with a slight built-in curve, a solid colour, and bold trim.
The bold trim, in this case, is ribbon tabs which form a faux yoke and a faux apron effect.
It’s an interesting choice: both extremely simple, and intriguingly textural.
The skirt trim features a complete tri-part apron idea, but the yoke trim truncates abruptly at the shoulders, leaving a blank back.
Design ideas that don’t continue on the back of garments always annoy me, but the lack of continuity is fairly common in 1860s garments. If nothing else it would save the wearer from worrying that the trims were getting crushed and bent out of shape!
The skirt features interesting seaming: either joins to piece the fabric as frugally as possible, or purposeful gores to lend that newly fashionable back-thrust to the dress.
What do you think?
Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10
A reminder about rating – feel free to be critical if you don’t like a thing, but make sure that your comments aren’t actually insulting to those who do like a garment. Phrase criticism as your opinion, rather than a flat fact. Our different tastes are what make Rate the Dress so interesting. It’s no fun when a comment implies that anyone who doesn’t agree with it, or who would wear a garment, is totally lacking in taste.
As usual, nothing more complicated than a .5. I also hugely appreciate it if you only do one rating, and set it on a line at the very end of your comment.