The Dreamstress

Last week:  a brown & blue bustle-era dress

So last week’s dress got a bit of attention and comments for something I hadn’t noticed or anticipated.  I think I’ve looked at so many 1880s dresses with centre front gathers, swags, and ruching that I hadn’t realised that at times, as with the blue & brown dress, it could be a bit…anatomical…

But not everyone saw that unfortunate potential: lots of you actually saw a crisply tailored dress in a playful take on two elegantly subdued colours.

And then some of you thought it was just boring

The Total: 7.8 out of 10

Not bad, not great.

This week:

This week’s pick is a 1920s frock by Poiret, which balances the new move towards streamlined and simple with his trademark eye for details and sense of humour and whimsy.

Dress, Paul Poiret (French, Paris 1879—1944 Paris), 1925, wool, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art, C.I.50.117

The silhouette is a simple mid-1920s sheath, but it is enlivened with elaborately scalloped hems and upper sleeves:

Dress, Paul Poiret (French, Paris 1879—1944 Paris) Date- 1925, wool, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art, C.I.50.117

The heavier black of the dress is lightened with frothy lower sleeves and a matching faux chemise neckline:

Dress, Paul Poiret (French, Paris 1879—1944 Paris) Date- 1925, wool, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art, C.I.50.117

A perky red bow enlivens the back neck:

Dress, Paul Poiret (French, Paris 1879—1944 Paris) Date- 1925, wool, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art, C.I.50.117

And the whole dress has a trompe l’oeil layered effect, with a ribbon printed to look like buttons winding in and out of the layers, teasing at the idea of an entry point, and confusing the eye as to which layer sits above which other.

Dress, Paul Poiret (French, Paris 1879—1944 Paris) Date- 1925, wool, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art, C.I.50.117

What do you think?  Has Poiret successfully blended sophistication and humour?

Dress, Paul Poiret (French, Paris 1879—1944 Paris) Date- 1925, wool, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art, C.I.50.117

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

It’s always so interesting to see why people do or don’t like a dress: because it appeals to them intellectually, or on a purely aesthetic level.  Because it would look good on you, or wouldn’t.  Because you can imagine it on you, or because you can imagine it on exactly the right person who is very different to you.  Because you like the era, or don’t.  Because it reminds you of a dress you owned and loved, or something you got made to wear, and hate.

So many reasons…

Last week:  a 1910s dress in peach pink and cinnamon silk

Last week’s dress rating was really one that lived and died on people’s associations.  It got some really high scores, and some really, really low scores.  And a lot of middling scores, which rather perfectly match the final total of…

The Total: 7.3 out of 10

And the score droops and deflates like the limp drapes of the dress itself…

This week: a brown & blue bustle-era dress

I have a fascination with historical dresses made from two very distinct fabrics.  In some eras they don’t exist at all, in others they are more common.  Few examples of any era are as clearly and crisply defined as this particolour ca 1880 dress, which combines brown and blue across the skirt.

Day Dress, Augustine Martin, Wool, Silk, Metal, ca 1880, France, Drexel Museum

(I’ve called it bustle era, but without a side view it could be more natural form, without much obvious back definition).

What do you think?  Is this dress going to be an alliteration dream: a brown and blue bustle era beauty?  Or is bizarre a more appropriate B?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10