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Rate the Dress: Embellished prints, 1920s

I know I just did a 1920s dress for Rate the Dress the week before last, but this week’s 1920s day dress, in printed silk, is so different from the gold and orange evening number, that I don’t think it’s too much of a repeat

Last week:  a ca 1870 dress in deep raspberry pink, with two types of fringing

I feel like last week’s Rate the Dress was an apple. All December I fed you a diet of decadent treats: chocolate, and puddings, and cakes, and sugarplums. And then the first week in Jan comes, and I hand you a piece of fruit, and no-one is interested! Those who did rate liked the dress well enough, but it certainly didn’t set any records.

The Total: 8.1 out of 10

However, if I could find a way to factor how many comments and votes a dress got into it’s rating, this would have fared much worse. It did not attract your interest!

This week: a 1920s day dress in printed silk

This mid 20s frock may be a day dress, but it is anything but informal. The style and embellishments would have made it suitable wear for a wedding guest, or at the most formal of garden parties or afternoon dances.

Dress, American About 1926, Silk plain weave (chiffon), printed and embroidered with glass beads, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 52.236
Dress, American About 1926, Silk plain weave (chiffon), printed and embroidered with glass beads, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 52.236

The printed pattern of the silk is embellished with glass beads, which add glitter and movement to the fabric. They are more than just decorative though: the weight of the beads is helping to hold the hem in place, and to keep the waistband sitting properly.

Dress, American About 1926, Silk plain weave (chiffon), printed and embroidered with glass beads, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 52.236
Dress, American About 1926, Silk plain weave (chiffon), printed and embroidered with glass beads, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 52.236

The silk fabric is patterned with an abstract feather design which is reminiscent of Egyptian art: a similarity that is made more pronounced by the careful placement of a curved feather motif around the neck, where it evokes a wesekh collar.

Dress, American About 1926, Silk plain weave (chiffon), printed and embroidered with glass beads, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 52.236
Dress, American About 1926, Silk plain weave (chiffon), printed and embroidered with glass beads, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 52.236

The overall effect is both bold and subtle. It attempts to balance extremely trendy and extreme tasteful.

Dress, American About 1926, Silk plain weave (chiffon), printed and embroidered with glass beads, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 52.236

Does it succeed?

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.  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!)

I had a dream, a wondrous thing…

Last night a boy racer came roaring up our suburban street, realise it wasn’t where he had meant to go, did a screeching turn-round, and went roaring down again.

It reminded me how much I loath boy racing (whether it’s done by boys or girls, but let’s face it, it’s mostly done by boys). It’s an dreadful hobby which is at best an annoyance to everyone who isn’t participating in it, and at worst a danger to anyone in the vicinity, and an environmental nightmare.

We used to hear a lot of boy racers at night at our old place. The racing and roar of the engines. The screech and squeal of tires. Whenever they were out and about at night I would lie awake listening to the sounds, stressing.

So I developed a happy little fantasy about boy racing.

I would imagine the boy racers roaring down their favourite street. And then, one by one, the engines suddenly going quiet. Each car drifts to the side of the road, the confused drivers steering it to safety, putting on the breaks and pulling the hood-release catch.

The hood pops open.

The boy racer gets out of his car. Walks round to the front. Lifts the hood.

The contents explode out.

Stuffed toys.

It’s all stuffed toys.

The engine.

Every part is now a stuffed toy. Big ones for big parts, little ones for little parts. Teddy bears of all sizes. Stuffed tigers and foxes and bunnies and more. Cuddly little native animals like the zoo and museum gift shops sell. Hopefully even a Colossal Squid stuffed toy.

Nothing engine-shaped at all.

The boy racer picks up a stuffed toy. Looks at it in total confusion. Starts pulling out more stuffed toys, emptying the hood cavity, trying to find the engine.

But there is no engine.

Just stuffed toys.

And there was no more boy racing that night.

The boy racer could buy another engine. Fill that cavity with metal and grease and petrol and rubber.

But every time he broke the speed limit…

Every time he did a burnout…

Every time he had sustained loss of traction…

Stuffed toys.

Imagine how wonderfully quiet and peaceful it would be?

(and, since this is my fantasy, and you can have anything you want in a fantasy:


  1. no-one was ever injured when their engine turned into soft toys. They always just slowed nicely and gradually and drifted to a safe spot.
  2. all the stuff toys were made from totally organic, environmentally friendly materials.
  3. all the stuffed toys went to deserving children.
  4. if there was an excess of soft toys, they would turn out to be as easy to compost as one of the mushrooms that grows round the edge of my yard after a few days of good rain.

Since I have no images to illustrate this dream (but wouldn’t they be amazing? Just imagine them….) here are some gratuitously cute Felicity photos from the last few weeks:

Woman's Dress Ensemble, United States, circa 1870, Silk taffeta, linen plain weave, and cotton twill weave with silk macrame fringe, LACMA, M.2007.211.773a-d

Rate the Dress: Raspberry pink 1870s with two types of fringe

After all the excitement of the festive fancy frock-a-thon, it was hard to pick an ensemble that wouldn’t seem like a letdown for this week’s Rate the Dress.  Hopefully this week’s pick is interesting enough to pique your interest, even if it isn’t a glittering evening gown.

Last week: a sparkly, pleated, bow-bedecked 1920s frock

Last week’s 1920s dress didn’t receive quite the enthusiastic reception that heralded the House of Worth frock of the week before – at least in the number of commenters.  Those that did rate it, however, quite liked it (except the bow), and so it received exactly the same rating!

The Total: 9.3 out of 10

I was very surprised by how many people didn’t like the bow (and didn’t realise that it was exactly the same fabric as the bodice – it just appears different because you’re seeing many layers of it).  Rachel’s comment sums up exactly how I feel about the bow and the dress.  Without it, I thought the dress would actually have been very boring and ordinary.  But, of course, different opinions are what make Rate the Dress interesting!

This week: a ca 1870 dress in deep raspberry pink, with two types of fringing

This ca. 1870 dress is a classic example of the transition from the hoopskirt era to the first bustle era.  There is still significant fullness in the skirt, with the addition of definite back projection.

The raspberry pink shade is typical of the bright hues favoured throughout the 1860s and into the 1870s.  It’s hard to tell if the slight colour difference across the dress are the result of fading and dye changes, and are not original to the dress, or if they are intentional (or a combination of both).  The hem ruffles do seem to be a distinctly darker hue than the rest of the dress.  The macrame fringe may have once coordinated with them perfectly, but has faded more than the rest.

The dress is decorated with self-fabric pleated trim with unravelled fringed edges, additional macrame fringing, and deep pleats at the hem.

It’s definitely frillier and more ornamented that 1860s fashions, but hasn’t yet hit the extravagance of every type of ornamentation and trim that is seen in later 1870s fashions.

So, what do you think of this dress that sits between the screaming brights of the initial aniline craze, and the darker, heavier hues of the 1880s; between the enormously wide skirts of the elliptical crinoline and the enormously bustly-bustle of the first bustle era; between the relative simplicity of the 1860s and the ornamented extravagance of the late 1870s?

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.  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!)