The Dreamstress

I had one goal choosing this week’s Rate the Dress: it had to be orange.

Which is why it’s yellow. Close enough? Life right now is about accepting compromise and imperfection, and being OK with what you have. So we have yellow.

Last Week: a late Victorian dress in muted pink

Last week’s Rate the Dress definitely had its fan club, but it also had its naysayers. Those fell into the category of people who liked everything about the dress except the lace, or maybe the sleeve ruffles, or the category of people who liked pretty much nothing about the dress.

The resulting total?

The Total: 7.4 out of 10

A whole point down from last week! And very representative of all the people who liked the dress except for one or two elements.

This week:  an almost-certainly-a-tea-gown in warm yellow

This week’s Rate the Dress is from the Helen Larson Private Collection that was sold by Whitakers a couple of years ago.

The unusual train of this dress, which spills from between the shoulder blades and hangs down the back like fairies wings, combined with the overall cut and lush elements, makes me reasonably confident in identifying it as a tea gown: a garment of “elaborate design and infinite cost…absolutely useless, and utterly ridiculous” – but extremely fashionable and covetable.

A tea gown was an elaborate garment for indoor wear only, acceptable only at dinners with close friends (and, despite the name, wasn’t particularly worn for afternoon, or any other kind, of tea). Tea gowns, especially ones like this, were extremely expensive, and thus were the ultimate status statements: a garment as pricey as the dearest ballgown, but which could only be worn at the most intimate and informal of events.

1880s tea gowns usually featured ‘exotic’ or historical elements, like Indian embroidery, or 18th century inspired watteau backs. The quirky train on this dress is definitely whimsical enough to qualify.

Some 1880s and 90s tea gowns also feature a corselet/swiss waist effect. The way the brocade that forms the back bodice and sides of the train wraps around the front of the dress definitely fits that trend.

If this dress isn’t a tea gown, it’s a reception gown worn by an exceedingly daring and adventurous woman.

She was brave enough to sport a butterfly train spilling from her back, beaded fringe round her hips, heavy gold and sequinned trim, and sundry other embellishments on the bodice that we can’t quite see, and ostrich feathers curling around her neck, all in sunny yellow.

She was willing to pay a pretty penny for all this too. While the label suggests the dress was made in Chicago, and the construction definitely isn’t couture level, it’s very nice, and would certainly have been an expensive purchase.

What do you think?

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.  Phrase criticism as your opinion, rather than a flat fact. 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

I went looking for a Rate the Dress option this week, and everything that sparked my interest was either too similar to something I’d done recently, or came in a weird print, or muted half shades, both of which I was hoping to avoid, because that’s what we did last week!

I finally had to concede that this week was simply going to have to be shades of last week, although in a different hue.

Last Week: an 1840 dress in harlequin pattern

I’ll admit that I wondered what the reception to last week’s dress would be, but it turns out that most of you are harlequin fans – or at least appreciate a bit of wacky pattern now and again! Not everyone was convinced that the pleating was as successful as it could be, and there were a few people who really didn’t like the print.

The Total: 8.4 out of 10

We’re creeping up…

This week:  a late Victorian dress in muted pink

This week’s Rate the Dress is an excellent example of fashions from the last years of the Victorian era.

The huge sleeves of the early 1890s have disappeared, replaced by a slight puff and a bit of shoulder decoration. The silhouette here is trim and streamlined (at least as streamlined as the 19th century got) with just a suggestion of the slight fullness that will later become the Edwardian pigeon breast.

The dusky rose that forms the main body of the dress is trimmed with two kinds of lace, and dark pink-red silk velvet.

The velvet is used a decorative belt around the waist. Narrow ribbons of it form stripes which follow the collar (or is it technically a yoke ruffle?), sleeve caps, and layers of the skirt, highlighting the pick-ups of the collar, and the bias ruffles of the skirt.

A line of heavy lace running down the front of the dress interrupts the velvet stripes, providing a vertical balance to the curves and horizontal lines.

A lighter lace frames the collar/yoke ruffle/shoulder swag, and edges the wrist cuff.

What do you think? Is the dress an elegant example of its time? Do all the elements achieve balance?

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.  Phrase criticism as your opinion, rather than a flat fact. 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