The Dreamstress

Last week’s Rate the Dress looked towards autumn, so this week I’m balancing the globe and showing a dress that evokes springtime.  Last week’s dress also beat the rating of the dress of the week before.  Can this one do even better?

Last week: a pleated polonaise gown in rust brown

I hadn’t realised how much people loved this dress until I started tallying the ratings, where it quickly became evident that almost all of you thought it was wonderful.  It was just such a flattering, elegant, universal dress, that it received almost universal acclaim.  I’m sure I can’t be the only person who is now on the lookout for rust coloured silk…

The Total: 9.6 out of 10

Even better than the 18th century not-a-polonaise!  AND it got 10 scores of 10/10 in a row!

This week: a late 1910s Lucile dress

This time of year is usually the darkest, grimmest bit of a New Zealand winter (although it’s been eerily non-dark and grim this year), and, from what I hear, it’s the hottest, driest part of a what has been an eerily and horribly hot and dry summer in most of the Northern Hemisphere.  I thought all of us could use a Rate the Dress that spoke of cool woods, and bubbling brooks, and spring flowers.

Evening dress, Lucile Ltd, Paris, France, c.1918-1920, Silk, gold-embroidered net, satin binding, silk flowers, National Museums of Scotland

So here is a Lucile frock in shot green taffeta, overlaid with gold-embroidered net, like sunlight filtering through a leaf canopy, and trimmed with bright yellow binding, with dangling strings of delicate flowers, like the first buds of spring.

Evening dress, Lucile Ltd, Paris, France, c.1918-1920, Silk, gold-embroidered net, satin binding, silk flowers, National Museums of Scotland

According to the National Museums of Scotland, the green shade of this dress is a deliberate choice on the part of Lucile, Lady Duff Gordon, to evoke hope and wisdom:

Evening dress, Lucile Ltd, Paris, France, c.1918-1920, Silk, gold-embroidered net, satin binding, silk flowers, National Museums of Scotland

The colour choice was particularly symbolic in France, and particularly relevant in the aftermath of World War One, which people hoped would be ‘the war to end all wars’.

Symbolism aside, what do you think of this vibrant take on late 1910s fashion, in all its quirky glory?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

This week Rate the Dress is going from not-a-polonaise to actually-a-polonaise, with dresses separated in time by a century.  Last week’s was exquisitely presented, this week’s choice less so – but hopefully you’ll find it no less worthy of comment.

Last week: a painted silk ca 1780s not-a-polonaise.

You thought this dress was practically perfect in every way: it even racked up a total of 360 points: a round of applause if I ever saw one!  It lost a few points for the not-matched but not-not matched bodice, which I quite expected.  But otherwise…pretty much fabulous.

The Total: 9.5/10

Woot woot!

This week:

Since last week’s dress wasn’t an actual polonaise, I thought I’d pick a real one this week.  Not a real 18th century polonaise dress, but one from another era that used the term.

Bustle dress, silk, 1880s, August Auctions, Lot 356, May 9, 2017

1870s and 1880s ‘polonaise’ dresses were bustle dresses with the bodice and bustling overskirt cut in one, and the bustling overskirt opening over the (often contrasting) underskirt in a V, inspired by 18th century dresses which opened over petticoats.  The  overall aesthetic as well as the use of the term ‘polonaise’ was a deliberate nod to the 18th century.

Bustle dress, silk, 1880s, August Auctions, Lot 356, May 9, 2017

Victorian polonaise gowns were just one part of the Georgian revivalism so fashionable in the second half of the 18th century (other examples I’ve covered are 1870s  Louis heels, 1860s-80s Pompadour fabrics or Pompadour taffeta,  and 1860s bergere , but they have contributed to the modern confusion around ‘robe a la polonaise’ dresses.

Bustle dress, silk, 1880s, August Auctions, Lot 356, May 9, 2017

The front of this dress, with its open bodice front that evokes a stomacher, and open skirt, is classic Victorian polonaise.  The back view is a little less straightforward: the butterfly bustle on this 1880s gown could just as easily be referencing 17th century mantua as late 18th century pick-ups.

Bustle dress, silk, 1880s, August Auctions, Lot 356, May 9, 2017

This dress is an example I’d love to see given a full museum treatment and presentation.  Auction houses are under significant time and financial constraints, so their mannequins and steaming are less than ideal, and it’s definitely not doing this dress any favours.

Bustle dress, silk, 1880s, August Auctions, Lot 356, May 9, 2017

I know it’s not the ideal presentation, but let’s not hold that against the dress.  What do you think of it?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10