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Rate the Dress: ca. 1925 Royal Flush (possibly by Poiret)

It would be hard to match last week’s Rate the Dress pick for sheer impact, so this week I’ve selected something a little simpler: a mid ’20s evening dress with a sense of fun and whimsicality, and a possible provenance to Poiret.  Will you find it no less loveable (or no less hateable)?  Let’s find out!

Last week:  a c. 1892 Pingat ‘tea dress’ or tea gown

I knew when I posted the Pingat tea gown that it was going to elicit very strong reactions, good or bad.  Some of you just loved it.  Some of you loved it for sheer chutzpah.  Some of you thought it was hideous, but were impressed by the design impact.  And some of you thought it was just hideous.

(I fell into camp 3.  I couldn’t help but to admit the dress was effective, but I just couldn’t like it!).

The Total: 8.5 out of 10

Forget the dress rating.  Go check out the comments!  10/10 for those!

This week: a ca. 1925 playing card themed evening dress, possibly by Poiret

It’s coming up to Art Deco Weekend in Napier. Sadly I won’t be making it this year, but I’m using it as inspiration for this week’s Rate the Dress pick.

This dress was sold at auction in 2011. According to family history it was hand-painted by Poiret for one of his seamstresses (the grandmother of the seller) and worn to a ball held by the Compte de Beaumont.

The attribution to Poiret’s workshop isn’t confirmed.  The dress does have design elements similar to his work.  The gathered skirt at the natural waist and asymmetrical neckline are both details he used in numerous garments.

As a designer Poiret wasn’t known for his polished finishes.  His garments were meant for overall impact, rather than close inspection.  His relatively ‘crude’ sewing, however, rarely showed on the outside of garments.  I’ve always felt that the description was someone in comparison to the other great design houses of the ‘teens, who were known for their exquisite detailing.

Whatever this garment looks like on the inside, from the exterior the dress has some nice finishing touches. The multiple rows of shirred gathering control the fullness of the skirt and help it to drape beautifully.  Narrow white bindings or borders on the sleeves and neck are echoed in the skirt hem, pulling the shape of the dress together, and emphasising the angles.

The dress is presented for auction sale rather than museum display, so it’s still a bit crumpled, and lacks the fullness that a real body and the proper undergarments would provide.  Even as it is, the intent of the garment is still clearly visible.

What do you think?  Is this dress coming up trumps?  Is it queen of your heart?  A royal flush?*  Or should it just be flushed?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

(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!  Thanks in advance!)

* Did I get those right?  I’m not very good at card analogies.  Mr D & his cousins banned me from the family poker games when I kept mixing up poker & pool (I think it’s perfectly understandable.  One has a pool and you poke things in the other – clearly the names are wrong, not me.  (also the part where I kept winning while telling them exactly what I had – they just couldn’t believe someone would be that honest, and kept expecting that this time I must be lying.  They thought it was bad form)).

1910s evening gowns thedreamstress.com

An Edwardian Evening Gown Interlude II: a touch of modern

Here are more photos from my Edwardian evening gown photoshoot with Theresa.  These ones are by our friend Daniil @dmanww, who is seriously the most amazing person ever.  He’s always ready to help with anything, including a photoshoot.  Sometimes behind the camera, sometimes in front of it:  Daniil has also modelled for me!

We took most of these photos at the memorial at the Basin Reserve, the old Wellington Cricket grounds.  It was hard to keep out all the modern additions and architecture around the memorial out of the photos.  After realising how much that limited our angles, we stopped trying to be strictly historical.  It was fun mixing it up, with shots of selfies, and 1970s grandstands in the background.

What do you think?  Should we try to keep it as plausibly period as possible, or is an interesting photo good even if it’s very anachronistic?

1910s evening gowns thedreamstress.com

1910s evening gowns thedreamstress.com

1910s evening gowns thedreamstress.com

1910s evening gowns thedreamstress.com

1910s evening gowns thedreamstress.com

1910s evening gowns thedreamstress.com

1910s evening gowns thedreamstress.com

Other Theresa photoshoots include:

Rate the Dress: a tea gown with attitude

Today was a public holiday in New Zealand (Waitangi Day).  Most people took a four day weekend, so it’s thrown my usual scheduling out.  So apologies for the slightly belated Rate the Dress.  To make up for it, I’ve picked a VERY exciting Rate the Dress: a relatively unknown 1890s Pingat tea gown (probably) that caused quite a stir when I shared it on Instagram earlier this week.

Last week:  a ca. 1820 dress re-made from 18th century chine a la branche

I’m on a Rate-the-dress roll!  Once again, the majority of you loved the frock, though there were a few caveats.  The two main complaints were about the wide sleeves, the sleeve trim, and the muted colours.  Wider, more relaxed sleeves were often a feature of late 1810s fashions.  Chine, by its nature, is muted, and this was a particularly restrained example.

The Total: 8.7 out of 10

Not quite as good as the week before, but still a very good score indeed.

This week:  A c. 1892 Pingat ‘tea dress’ or tea gown

Since some of you didn’t care for last week’s muted hues, I present a decidedly un-muted 1890s couture creation:

The National Gallery of Australia has labelled this striking confection a ‘tea dress’ (by which I presume they mean a tea gown – read more about them here).  Whatever this gown is, it’s a very unusual garment.  Some of the elements are not entirely typical of a tea gown.  The dress ismore fitted, with more emphasis on the waist, than is usual for a tea gown.

It could almost be fancy dress, but for what?  The sleeves are decidedly Elizabethan.  The choice of fabrics and the colours are decidedly un-Elizabethan.  The ruff collar, as wacky as it is, is quite restrained for a fancy-dress collar.  It could be a theatre costume, but I’ve never heard of Pingat making theatre costumes.

The combination of historicism, exoticism, and theatrical elements is typical of late Victorian tea gowns.  The use of lavish and expensive fabrics in a garment that could only be used for a limited range of social functions was also typical of a tea gown.  By the 1890s, tea gowns were less likely to be loose, comfortable garments that could be donned without assistance, increasing the chances that this was indeed a tea gown.  Late Victorian tea gowns were also more likely to fill the function of a hostess gown: being slightly more outrageous than what your guests would wear, which certainly describes this dress.

So, with no obvious clues to the contrary, I shall assume that the NGA means tea gown when they say tea dress, and that their classification is entirely correct.

With that aside, what do you think of the dress itself?  Tea gowns were not meant to be shrinking violet garments, but is this one a bit too outre?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

(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!  Thanks in advance!)