Thank you to everyone who comment on my post on climate change and mental health. I really appreciate your support, suggestions, and empathy. I’m still working through them, and allowing myself to do just a little bit every day to cope, and even though I haven’t managed to respond yet, I really appreciate that you took the time to comment.
One thing that does generally help me is having a schedule, so, although it’s a day late, here’s Rate the Dress.
Last Week: an 1890s evening dress by Mrs Cuttle
Here in NZ things that people either really like, or really don’t like, are sometimes described as ‘the vegemite option’ (or, ‘the marmite option’, because using either immediately triggers a vehement argument about which is the better/true extremely weird tasting yeast spread).
Vegemite is either something you like, or…isn’t (unless you’re me, and you think it’s revolting as you eat it, and then immediately want another piece of vegemite toast)
Last week’s dress was vegemite. And, carrying on the analogy, only a few of you are from the few countries that like the stuff, because most of you DID NOT like the dress. But some loved it!
The Total: 6.4 out of 10
And Veronica was right on the money with her rating! (there is no award for that, because then everyone would start doing middle of the road ratings, and that would be terribly boring 😉 )
This week: an 1850s afternoon dress in chiné a la branch silk
This 1850s afternoon dress is made from a floral warp printed silk: chiné a la branche silk, or, as it might have been called in the 1850s, pompadour silk.
The characteristic blurred effect of the weave softens the harsh contrast that the bright tones and dark ground of the fabric might have otherwise had, while the floral print keeps the dress from severity or sombreness.
The dress would have originally been worn with a white collar, and white engageantes (undersleeves) which would have further brightened it.
The blurred lines and irregular patterning of the print are matched and balanced by lines of trim which are both angularly geometric, and softened with gathers, adding to the overall aesthetic tension between crisp contrasts and muted borders.
Like last week’s dress, it’s suffering slightly from presentation. Sloping shoulders may have been the 1850s beauty ideal, but the lines around the neck and collapsed fabric at the side of the bust and around the armhole make it clear this was meant to be worn by someone shaped a little less like a wine-bottle.
Imagine in the right accessories and body, and what do you make of it? Does the pairing of fabric and cut work for you? Is this chiné crinoline a win?
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, so I can find it! And 0 is not on a scale of 1 to 10. Thanks in advance!)