I’m feeling a little sad that I missed so many of the amazing creations at Gala Night at Costume College, and a little sad that I couldn’t ever have taken a heavier, more elaborate dress as a Gala outfit anyway (luggage allowance woes), combined with a bit of peace that I won’t be going again anyway.
So I’ve been dream Gala dress browsing: enjoying all the heavy Victorian creations that I could never fit into a 23 kilo suitcase. This week’s dress reminds me a little of my Juno gown. Once you assembled all the accessories and undergarments they would need either would be too much of a space and weight hog to take. So we’ll just have to enjoy them online!
Last Week: a 1900s suit in ruby red wool
Last week’s red suit was clearly a bit costume-y, but in the right way, because so many of you wanted to dress your favourite heroine (or anti-heroine) in it, from Carmen Sandiego to Irene Adler.
The one bit that some of you weren’t convinced by was that neck bow with dangling tassels.
The Total: 9.5 out of 10
Practically perfect in (almost) every way.
This week: a late 1880s evening dress
This week I’ve chosen a late 1880s evening dress as the Rate the Dress feature. This lilac and cream confection was made by Parisian label Mme Ludinart. While Ludinart’s known clients and contemporary media mentions suggest she never achieved the status of Worth, Pingat, Doucet or Drecoll, she appeared to have some devoted admirers, as well as the inevitable cachet of a Parisian couture house. Her surviving creations have a distinctive style which suggest that her clients chose her garments for their own merits: not just as cheaper alternatives to Worth et al.
This evening gown has a number of elements that appear to by typical of Ludinart’s style: muted half tones in pinks, creams and gold, a confident hand mixing textures and fabrics, and contrasting areas of plain fabric, and then highly textured trims.
There are certainly some unusual trims on this evening gown: bows on the shoulders elaborate enough to become sleeves in their own right, stiff gathered pleating demarcating the hem, and a cascade of lace frills down the back of the bodice, hiding the lacing closure, and tying the dotted net over-layer of the bodice and skirt front to the heavier patterned silk of the bodice back and train.
What do you think? The work of a dressmaker of distinction in her own right, or B-level Victorian couture?
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!)