The Dreamstress

Oh poor frock from last week! I think I doomed it by pointing out so clearly that it wasn’t Parisian.  If I’d only told you it was by Doucet  you’d probably have lived it so much better!

As it was, so many of you disliked so much about it.  The skirt fabric (one of my favourite parts actually, for being such a fascinating textile) came in for particularly harsh criticism.  I would have rated it an 8 out of 10, for being the absolute perfect balance point between 1890s stiffness and 1900s too-much-froth, but alas, not enough of you agreed with me, and it came in at a paltry 5.2 out of 10.

Since you didn’t like the textured textile and the mix of different fabrics last week, this week’s selection is in just one colour, and predominantly one fabric.

Ball Gown, English, circa 1827, Aerophane silk; silk satin lining and metal hooks and eyes; silk satin undersleeves with lace trim. LACMA, M.2007.211.939

This evening dress or ball gown of flame red aerophane silk (one that I missed when researching aerophane, due to a spelling error in the LACMA catalogue) features self-fabric streamers bound in silk satin which flow down the skirt and are caught up at the hem, where they are interspersed with large flowers fashioned in the same manner.

Ball Gown, English, circa 1827, Aerophane silk; silk satin lining and metal hooks and eyes; silk satin undersleeves with lace trim. LACMA, M.2007.211.939

In the lightweight aerophane the whole gown would have floated and fluttered as the wearer danced in it.

Ball Gown, English, circa 1827, Aerophane silk; silk satin lining and metal hooks and eyes; silk satin undersleeves with lace trim. LACMA, M.2007.211.939

Would the effect have been attractively eye catching, or absolutely appalling?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10.

Oh dear…last week’s late 1860s Rate the Dress…

OK, some of you did like it!  But it came in for some harsh criticism, and some pretty bad analogies: tongues, teeth & Daleks for starts!  And even most of you who did like it liked it in spite of itself.  Kit promised to “enter therapy and bind 40 half ovals as a penance” for her high score.  I’m kind of in the same boat.  I know it was awful, and yet, I felt it could have been really effective on the right person – if it only weren’t for the mess happening at the bottom of the bodice.  I can forgive ugly (as long as it’s effective) but I can’t forgive bad construction, so my rating would only have been a 5 – lower than your average score, which was just a tiny bit below the average of 5.9 out of 10 that it came out at.

I’ve kept within the same colour scheme this week: black and ivory, with just a touch of another colour.  This type, rather than last weeks very divisive marsala satin, the contrast colour comes in the form of soft sage green velvet.

Evening dress, 1898-1900, Atelier Mrs. C. Donovan, New York, Galleria del Costume di Palazzo Pitti, 00000137

While not as famous as her French counterparts, Mrs C Donovan was one of the most important American dressmakers of the late 19th century, and her gowns at times rivalled those produced by the great European houses.

Evening dress, 1898-1900, Atelier Mrs. C. Donovan, New York, Galleria del Costume di Palazzo Pitti, 00000137

This particular evening dress uses the sparkle of sequins and the lustre of the unusual silk to reflect the shine of the increasingly popular gaslights that would be lighting the ballrooms that it would have been worn in.  The tulle and lace insets in the skirt and bodice show the trend towards increasingly delicate and fragile female fashions at the turn of the 20th century.

Evening dress, 1898-1900, Atelier Mrs. C. Donovan, New York, Galleria del Costume di Palazzo Pitti, 00000137

What do you think?  Does this dress achieve balance between the heavy fabrics and structured silhouette of the late 19th, and the more ephemeral aesthetic of the Edwardian era?  If you didn’t know the designer, would you think Parisian couture?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10