Fashion Studies Journal (FSJ): Volume 1, Issue 1

fsj

what is fashion studies?

SPRING 2012 (VOLUME 1, ISSUE 1)

1 >>

lauren downing >> EDITOR AND ART DIRECTOR lauren.e.downing@gmail.com

kimberly jenkins >> EDITOR AND MARKET DIRECTOR kim.jenkins@me.com

anya kurennaya >> EDITOR AND PHOTO EDITOR anyak88@gmail.com

laura peach >> MANAGING EDITOR laura.palmer.peach@gmail.com

laura snelgrove >> EDITOR AND COPY EDITOR laura.snelgrove@gmail.com

fsj

>> is an interdisciplinary journal created by the first cohort of students from the MA Fashion Studies program at Parsons The New School for Design. The purpose of this journal is to materialize innovations in fashion theory, criticism, and design, and to provide an accessible platform for those outside of academia to realize the profound meanings in the way we dress and the motivations behind it.

2 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

LETTER FROM THE EDITORS Dear Reader, We are delighted to share the first issue of Fashion Studies Journal with you.

Two years of hard work in the making, this publication emerged from the scholarship that was produced by the first graduating class of the MA Fashion Studies Program at Parsons The New School for Design, which was launched in the fall of 2010. Though we and our fellow students in fashion and dress-related master’s programs across the country have produced work of which we can be proud, there is still much to be done as the field continues to take shape through scholarship like that which you are about to read.

Here we address only a handful of the many aspects of culture in which fashion deserves to be considered, asking our contributors to answer the question, “What is Fashion Studies?” In truth, this was a somewhat unfair request, as fashion studies can be almost anything and everything. Long overlooked by the academy, scholars across many disciplines have only recently begun to deal with dress as image, object, and text, discovering the various ways dress and adornment can inform and enrich our understanding of the world around us.

Our contributors answered this question in thoughtful and innovative ways of which we might otherwise have only dreamt, attesting to the vast potential of this area of study.

The recurrent columns devote space to the importance of the individual wardrobe, the ways in which subcultures cultivate style, and the intersections between fashion and film. In our feature essays, scholars examine topics as varied as the contemporary phenomenon of the named garment, fashion as body modification, the conspicuous consumption of hats at the turn of the century, and the potential of sound as a methodology for dress research. In a collaborative piece, the historical symbolism of the white wedding dress is considered alongside one woman’s personal experience of revising the tradition for her own ceremony. In two excerpts from graduating MA thesis projects, 1980s glam metal and Mormon undergarments are positioned side-by-side for perhaps the first (and likely the only) time ever. Interspersed throughout these written works, we highlight the exciting, dynamic, and cerebral creations of our colleagues in the Parsons MFA Fashion Design and Society program through spreads that remind us of the enduring power of the fashion image.

We hope you engage with the ideas our contributors present and begin to ask your own questions about what fashion studies is and what it can become. Return for our next issue in the fall in which we will ask, “What happens when fashion and religion collide?”

Until then, please visit us at fashionstudiesjournal.org or write to us at fashionstudiesjournal@gmail.com.

All the best, The FSJ Team 3 >>

CONTENTS

>>columns 1. sartorial biography “on shopping for big girls’ jeans” by lauren downing >> 6 2. subcultural style “steampunk’s revision of victorian sensibilties” by forest bell >> 8 3. fashion meets film “retro feminists of the post-apocalypse” by elizabeth way >> 10 >>fashion in practice 4. carly ellis

“the moment before it all makes sense” >> 12

5. lucia cuba

“project gamarra” >> 48

6. elisa van joolen “11 X 17” >> 26

>>featured scholarship 7. fashioning synthetic bodies by rachel kinnard >> 18 4 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

8. fantastical millinery

by keremi gawade >> 34

9. a sound theory by maria echeverri >> 42 10. wearing your friends by sarah handelman >> 50

>>loose threads 11. addressing the wedding dress by molly rottman and laura snelgrove >> 56 12. glam metal: the art of the centerfold by anya kurennaya >> 64 13. your body is a temple by nami kim >> 70 >> endnotes >> 74 >> on the cover >> 79 >>contributors >> 80 5 >>

sartorial biograph w

hile others might describe her as plussize, when I ask Winton how she might describe her style, she looks down and reluctantly mumbles, “Hipster…?”

As she rifles through her overstuffed drawers looking for an outfit to wear for an evening out with friends, it becomes evident that despite her reticence to ally herself with the oft-mocked hipster style, she certainly has an affinity for dark skinny jeans, oversized t-shirts, and flannel. On most days, she tops this look off with her mother’s vintage tortoise shell prescription glasses from the 1980s… unironically. Standing in front of the mirror, tugging on her belt loops and adjusting her glasses, she has a change of heart: “Yeah, whatever. I am a hipster.”

While now seemingly at ease with her personal style, Winton’s relationship with clothing is a far cry from easy. In the past year or so since graduating from college and beginning a full-time office job, she has gained several pounds as she has found herself with little time to engage in any kind of regular fitness routine and even less time to prepare healthy meals.

Even so, Winton thought very little of her weight gain as she sized up from a size 10 to a size 12.

The breaking point occurred within the past several months when she went from a size 12 to a 14 and crossed the imaginary threshold from standard into plus-size. With this shift, it wasn’t just the number on her garment tags that changed; her self-perception was skewed, her shopping habits had to be tweaked and she began to consider what it might be like to just “be fat.” It wasn’t just her clothing that had become plus-size; she was plus-size now, too.

6 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

Yet, this change only felt real to Winton when she endeavored to find a pair of skinny jeans with a 33-inch waist at Bloomingdale’s. Recalling this experience she explained, “When you get to a 32, you can still buy them anywhere and they’ll be tight and [available] in a variety of colors. When you go above 32 inches—and I can’t find whatever above 32 in inches is, it just doesn’t exist—the shop girls take you to the plus-size section and try to put you in a size 14. Once you get above a size 14, they no longer make the skinny version. All that’s available is a boot cut—because that’s what’s supposed to look best on a plus-size hourglass [shape]—but these always slouch around my butt, and boot cut is just not my style. To even wear these plus-size jeans, I would need to gain more weight. I’m stuck somewhere in the middle, a no man’s land but technically plus-size, and because of that I can’t find a quality pair of jeans that fit me.”

As we sit in her small Brooklyn bedroom amongst piles of discarded and dirty clothes from Urban Outfitters, Madewell and American Apparel, Winton explains, “I like to think of myself as someone who is okay with going plus-size—but I just…I think I would rather be big boned than a big girl. I’m just getting too close to big girl rather than a big boned girl and because of that I’ve had trouble shopping.”

Winton’s frustration with being in a sartorial no man’s land and her vacillation between being “big” and “big boned” places her in an awkward position that sociologist Margrit Shildrick has referred to as the “liminality of the monstrous body.”1 The ‘monstrous’ body—typically the fat body—in failing to approximate corporeal norms through a

hy

on shopping for big girls’ jeans

near-constant process of transformation in getting larger—is radically excluded within society and implicates the individual in its own becoming.2 Thus, as Winton has moved ever-closer to a size 14 and beyond, her size and the way it is perceived by others, like the Bloomingdale’s shop girl, implicates her as “other” within the world of fashion. In the United Kingdom, plus-size is referred to as outsize, and as Fat Studies scholar Alison Adam has written, “Say it softly and ‘outsize’ sounds like ‘outside.’

Hardly could a term emphasize more the way that big women are outside the norms of size and fashion.”3 This frustration over not fitting neatly into a size category, sociologists argue, arises from the fact that humans naturally seek to draw distinctions in order to process our social roles more effectively.4 In that Winton is on the smaller end of what fat studies scholars have dubbed “the fat spectrum,” Karen Jaffe reasons that “thinner people who lie closer to the boundary between fat and thin have less clarity about their weight because at times they are able to hide from it.”5 In her daily life, Winton doesn’t think about her weight nor does she even so much as feel fat all of the time. However, in the space of the department store dressing room or in the act of shopping online, she is unable to hide from her size and is forced to confront the social stigma of overweight. Yet because Winton’s size is often times ambiguous, she grapples with her self-identity— even as she likes to think of herself as someone who could embrace a fat body.

And while fat studies scholars contend that a fat individual can place herself at any point on the

b y l a u r e n do w n i n g

fat continuum, the fashion industry only discerns between standard and plus-size with little accounting for bodily variation.

Winton’s confusion is echoed in the fact that she has what is known a “hybrid” body shape—a shape that combines bodily attributes from two or more types and is said to be an even greater challenge to dress, adding another layer to the difficulty she has encountered in finding clothing. While she has the hourglass’s small waist, her lower half looks more like the “rectangle” according to style guide author Susan Nanfeldt.6 This weight gain and her hybrid shape, she speculates, is part of the reason why it has been so difficult to find jeans that work for her, even at a higher price point. Winton hopes that one day she can either size down enough so that she can justify spending money on designer jeans, or conversely, become comfortable enough to finally embrace herself as a “big girl.” For the time being though, Winton resigns herself to an uncomfortable, too-tight and poorly constructed skinny pair from Urban Outfitters in the name of staying true to her “hipstery” look.

While Jaffe argues that as far as stigmatized identities go, a fat identity is arguably one of the most difficult to hide, and as such, is one of the most universally stigmatized identity markers in Western culture, Winton’s relationship with dress demonstrates that her corpulence is not the only or even primary facet of her being. While her size figures prominently in the act of dressing, she cares more deeply about staying true to her sense of self, even if that means compromising her comfort.7 >> original image from ameriglobe 7 >>

subcultural style

STEAMPUNK’S REVISION OF VICTORIAN SENSIBILITIES

w

hen the world was thrust into the internet age in the late 1980s, the personal computer supplanted the television to become the centerpiece of the modern American household.

Films like Freejack (1992) and Hackers (1995) spurred the “Cyber-Punk” aesthetic into the mainstream as Generation X sought to strike a futuristic balance between the decadence of the internet age and a possible impending apocalypse.

Steampunk emerged as a secondary response to the forward movement of the digital era while paying homage to the Victorian age of advancement.

Author K.W. Jeter originally coined the term Steampunk to mock a style of nineteenth century historical science fiction that was seeing a resurgence in popularity during the 1980s through authors like William Gibson and Bruce Sterling.1 The name Steampunk conflated the historical reference to the steam engine of the Victorian age with the renegade “do-it-yourself ” spirit of punk. As a cornerstone of the punk subculture, the DIY ethos embraced any raw material as a potential starting point or an inspiration for alternative development. The Steampunk look is about the adventure waiting to be had without losing a feel of refinement.

While Cyber-Punk evoked visions of the future and the cyborg through synthetic materials like neon PVC and computer parts, the Steampunk movement is about reimagining the future with one foot firmly planted in the past. Fully realized, the Steampunk look is essentially a resurrection of romantic Victorian garments mixed with strong references to a masculine adventuring spirit drawn from historical science fiction by authors like Jules Verne and H.G. 8 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

by forest bell

Wells. Specifically, a spirit of invention, exploration, and discovery inspired by texts like 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Around the World in 80 Days, and The Time Machine have deeply influenced the movement.

The Steampunk aesthetic is recognized by accessories such as monocles, top hats, leather pouches and bags, brass accents, pocket watches, and goggles distinctively combined and reconfigured to create novel forms. Through accessories such as these, functionality and mechanics are exposed as the aesthetic attributes that have come to best exemplify Steampunk style. Delivering beauty in functionality, the use of gears in items like watches—built with all the working parts on the outside to reference the components of the steam engine—is considered the pinnacle of beauty within the Steampunk aesthetic.

This elaborate form of ornamentation has carried over into everyday household items. In this vein, desktop computers are made to look like brass pipe organs and keyboards are designed to look like vintage typewriters. Similarly, functional bags have become carryalls for items such as glass canteens, vintage brass guns, and maps, disguising modern items like mobile phones.

Steampunks often make their own clothing, incorporating meticulous detailing and button work that contrasts with large, cumbersome metal plates and wire accents. In particular, brass is the soft and malleable metal of choice used in Steampunk sartorial mainstays such as goggles, watches, and body plates. Acquainting new members with the aesthetic, issues of Steampunk Magazine provide detailed instructions on how to turn copper into brass using a transforming agent like zinc and fire.

The Victorian influence is further referenced with floor length A-line skirts, military inspired soutache embroidery, long trench coats in dusty jewel tones with button accents, lace ruffles and flounces, jodhpurs, breeches, top hats, tail coats, corsets, gators, asymmetrical buttoning, scarves, and overalls. All garments are made, when possible, from natural fibers and leathers with construction techniques that mirrored the restraints and the melancholy of the Victorian era. Embracing the art and fashion of the Victorian era, Steampunk has no shortage of inspiration to interpret and manipulate, making the lifestyle of Steampunk attainable to a large community with diverse tastes. The only limitation is the ability to imagine and create with designated Steampunk materials.

Yet, the labor-intensive nature of the subculture and the financial constraints of using leather, brass, and natural fibers have proven to be cost prohibitive to casual consumers and designers alike.

While couturier Jean Paul Gaultier made wide use of Steampunk aesthetics in the costume designs for the 1995 film The City of Lost Children in portraying a decaying dreamscape, popular references to the subculture have been limited to costume-play events like comic book conventions and rarefied spaces of high fashion like Teen Vogue. Without any discernible figureheads and no definitive “howto� guide, Steampunk has proven to be extremely nebulous and ever-changing, attesting to its staying power as a subculture. >> photograph by catherinette rings; elephant gas mask by tom banwell 9 >>

fashion meets film t

he effects of the women’s liberation movement appeared in the post-apocalyptic film genre from the 1960s to the 1980s.

Instead of victims or sidekicks, women in these films were characterized as independent leaders and fighters in futuristic and traditionally male-dominated roles.

This change in popular images of women reflected shifts in female social roles. However, a dichotomy was created by the characters’ actions and the costumes they wore. The women were portrayed as liberated and strong by their roles and exploits, but their costumes revealed them as traditionally feminine.

What accounts for this disparity and what does it say about fashion, costuming and women’s roles in film? Before analyzing images from the film Barbarella: Queen of the Galaxy, it is useful to look back at the original medium of the character because it provides essential information about how Barbarella was visually conceived. Barbarella was born as a comic book character, written and illustrated by JeanClaude Forest in 1962. The above image is an illustration from the first Barbarella comic strip

10 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

series, appearing in the French publication, V Magazine, and Grove Press translated the collected comics into English in 1964. The presumably hand drawn and colored image appeared as a panel on the pages of V Magazine, so its original size could have varied from about an eight to a quarter of the published page.

Forest was a prolific and well-respected graphic artist and writer in postwar France. He was born outside Paris in 1930 and attended the Paris School of Design.

Forest illustrated covers for prominent French publications such as France-Soir and Les Nouvelles Littéraires in the 1950s, as well as science fiction book covers. His most famous work was the Barbarella series, which was translated into several languages and made into the feature film, Barbarella: Queen of the Galaxy in 1968. This film, featuring Jane Fonda, is how most Americans know Forest’s work.

This pane features the heroine of the graphic novel, a female astronaut and adventurer, Barbarella, as well as a male space ship captain. They have just crash landed on a strange planet and are now sinking

m

RETRO FEMINISTS OF THE POST-APOCALYPSE

into sand pits in the desert landscape. The clothing in this image clearly sets these two characters apart.

Though the story reveals that they are both captains of spacecraft, the clothing portrays Barbarella as much more physically exposed than her male counterpart. The male captain wears the traditional and expected gear of an astronaut, though without his helmet. The first Russian cosmonaut was launched into space the year before this image was produced and this illustrated man is dressed in a convincingly realistic fashion for his profession. His

barbarella is modern and bold: the attributes one would expect from a fantastical female astronaut created in 1962 suit conveys protective qualities—only his head and hands are exposed. His waist is tightly belted and his neck supported by a thick collar. Though there is an element of spaceage chic in the streamlined silhouette, this ensemble is militaristic, utilitarian, and defensive.

Barbarella’s clothing conveys the exact opposite qualities. She is exposed and on display. She wears skin-tight pants and a skimpy bustier top that exposes her cleavage and her midriff. The rip on her right knee further breaks down the barrier between her body and the surrounding environment. Everything about her clothing is impractical for space travel and the situation she finds herself in. Her outfit conveys vulnerability. At first glance, she is cast in the role

by elizabeth way

of damsel in distress, while the male figure is the knight in armor.

Upon further consideration, Barbarella’s ensemble also conveys an image of individuality and confidence. She is not generically covered up in a standard issue uniform, like her male companion.

She stands out as a personality, glamorous and sexually liberated. Her exposed body looks healthy and strong. Though her clothing is torn, she still survives, trudging through the alien landscape. She is the main character of this story and as such, she stands in the foreground. The man looks as though he is struggling to keep up with her. Barbarella is modern and bold: the attributes one would expect from a fantastical female astronaut created in 1962.

This image shows a powerful and strong woman in a traditionally male-dominated role, one of action hero, but her exposed feminine body and tousled hair remove any aggressive or androgynous connotations, presumably making her more acceptable to an early 1960s audience who are just beginning to process new ideas about women’s roles and women’s liberation. While the man’s uniformlike attire is straightforward, Barbarella’s clothing sends a more complex message. She may be a sexual object or a liberated woman. This image arguably shows her as both. >> the image has been reproduced on the website, hollywoodcomics.com. the founders of the company, jean-marc and randy lofficier, are comic book writers, editors, and translators, and also work extensively in france.

11 >>

C A R LY ELLIS “that moment before it all makes sense” As a recent transplant to New York City from the UK, Carly Ellis of the newly-launched MFA Fashion Design and Society program at Parsons The New School for Design found the humbling geometries of the city’s urban landscape inspiring. But more than that, Carly found herself transfixed by the stuff that is an aesthetic scourge to most New Yorkers: the tacky tourist junk sold on street corners and bodegas in hotspots like SoHo and Times Square. After viewing a documentary on Ndebele textile traditions, the young designer translated her personal photographs of the city, screen shots of Skype conversations with friends back home, and images from tourist memorabilia into pixelated, day-glo Ndebele-inspired patterns. Letting the patterns guide her construction techniques, the resultant streetwear garments, which range from body skimming to tent-like, serve as a canvas for her inspired textiles that read like a declaration of her unconditional love for her new city. >>

12 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

13 >>

14 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

15 >>

16 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

17 >>

FASHIONING SYN

DIS magazine’s “shoulder dysmorphia” and the permanance

18 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

T

he online fashion publication DIS Magazine published a feature in June 2010 that served as satirical commentary on the high fashion trends of spring 2010. “Shoulder Dysmorphia” interprets Joanne Entwistle’s concept of “dress as embodied practice” in a literal sense. Through digital manipulation and sarcastic text descriptions, it is implied that the shoulder shapes from five spring 2010 designer collections have materialized in the flesh of five models. The images depict outcomes of extreme aesthetic surgery. The result is an answer to anxieties surrounding dress and ideal body types through permanently dressing the body with aesthetic surgery.

My first reaction to the images was an instant comparison to alien bodies. These women, modeling stylistically deformed bone structures, could be easily cast in a science fiction film. The provocative images wrestle with themes of fashion, yet their presentation lacks the usual stylistic devices of mainstream fashion photography, which usually glamorize the subject by transforming her into an object of desire and fantasy. The somber portraiture of these extreme bodies is intentionally unusual. The images reveal a satirical perspective on fashion’s fascination with extreme silhouettes and the absurd outcomes of fashion anxiety.

for greater acknowledgement of the body in the discourse of fashion and dress, stating that “the literature on fashion and dress...has paid little attention to the body, focusing instead on the communicative aspects of adornment.”2 Entwistle believes the relation between dress and the body is under appreciated. She states: “Dress does not merely serve to protect our modesty and does not simply reflect a natural body or, for that matter, a given identity; it embellishes the body [...] adding a whole array of meanings to the body.”3 It is from this perspective that she establishes the notion of dress as an embodied practice or a situated bodily practice. Considering this concept, this article will demonstrate how “Shoulder Dysmorphia” literalizes Entwistle’s argument by collapsing the barrier between dress and the flesh.

This article also considers the digitally rendered images of “Shoulder Dysmorphia” in relation to Karen de Perthuis’ concept of the synthetic ideal. In her 2005 essay, “The Synthetic Ideal: the Fashion Model and Photographic Manipulation,” De Perthuis evaluates an image from fashion photographer Nick Knight in relation to Anne Hollander’s theory of the dressing the nude: “The figure […] is not, we know, a product of nature, but she is a creation of that which is not nature–fashion.

NTHETIC BODIES

e of dress through aesthetic surgery Entwistle’s concept of “dress as embodied practice” is the starting point for this article. In her 2000 essay, “Fashion and the Fleshy Body: Dress as Embodied Practice,” Entwistle describes human bodies as “dressed bodies.”1 She argues

by rachel kinnard

Here fashion has ignored the corporeal realities of the model and created an utterly imaginary form, in much the same way as it would go about creating a garment [...] the outcome is a synthesis of fashion and the body–a synthetic ideal.”4 19 >>

De Perthuis argues that through possibilities of digital manipulation, the human body becomes even more malleable to fashion. She compares manipulation of the digital body to the manipulation of cloth in a garment. De Perthuis states: “The separate ontological states of what is possibly ‘clothing’ and what is possibly ‘body’ no longer signify and in the new entity that emerges from this alchemical process, the boundary between self and non-self is dissolved. The synthetic ideal then can be seen as the embodiment of fashion’s imagery. As the avatar of fashion, it is where artifice, change, and imagination coalesce on the body of the model to create a new, previously only imaginable form.”5 It is through digital manipulation that these bodies could achieve the shapes of the designer collections.

Consequently, the manipulated images depict aestheticized bodies, altered as though by surgery.

The concept of dress as a situated bodily practice and the notion of the synthetic body converge in the images of “Shoulder Dysmorphia.” By analyzing the plastic bodies of “Shoulder Dysmorphia” in relation to a synthesized version of the embodiment of dress and the synthetic ideal, I consider how aesthetic surgery and digital photography can be understood means of permanently dressing the human body.

While Patrik Sandberg, an editor-at-large for DIS Magazine, contends that concerns about aesthetic surgery and digital photography as means to permanently dress the human body were not of central concern in “Shoulder Dysmorphia,” these images beautifully demonstrate the convergence of the embodiment of dress and the synthetic ideal, and (perhaps unconsciously) imply how aesthetic surgery can permanently dress the human body.

CHALLENGING THE STATE OF FASHION DIS Magazine is a self-described “fashion, art, and commerce publication that seeks to expand creative 20 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

economies.” Their manifesto elaborates on their philosophy: “DIS does not distinguish between disciplines nor conform to aesthetic value systems.

DIS explores the banality and novelty of product and image making. Updated on a constant basis, DIS Magazine is not issue-based, although issues are raised. These include but are not limited to distaste, dystopia, evolved lifestyles, new style options, disco, dysmorphia, and innumerable others. DIS is a collaborative project amongst artists, designers, stylists, writers, and friends.”6 “Shoulder Dysmorphia” is organized under several labels in the DIS navigation bar: Beauty, Distaste, and Dysmorphia. The feature uses grotesque imagery to express cultural anxieties surrounding the fashioned body, the ideal body, prosthetics, and technology.

The images are prefaced by a brief introduction that reads, “It is no small secret that an elite handful of homosexual men are responsible for the selfesteem of millions of women worldwide. The everexpanding exacerbation of shoulder silhouettes in women’s ready-to-wear will not only continue on its grotesque path into the grim future, but consumer anxieties over natural shoulder inadequacy will skyrocket, forcing women to undergo startling new surgical procedures, season to season, in order to keep up with the newest designer shapes. Bone up (literally) on shoulder dysmorphia for Spring/ Summer 2010.”

Each model ‘wears’ a unique silhouette from different designer collections of spring 2010. The looks are accompanied by a descriptive caption from the editors. Welcoming the reader to the satirical spread is a shoulder silhouette borrowed from Rick Owens. The caption reads, “Concave curvature, courtesy of Rick Owens.” The next caption reads, “No need to feel bleak in the face of Balmain-ia; simply broaden your bones with a built-in bonus procedure,” accompanying the third

image in the series. The next model presented mimics the shoulders of an Alexander McQueen silhouette: “Cadaverous McQueen configurations come custom with cartilage collarbone extensions.”

The final two images are cropped to above the torso, revealing only the upper part of the body. The look inspired by Givenchy features shoulders with subtle indentations. The caption reads, “Grind down shoulder blades for a gaunt Givenchy guise.” The last image mimics a ruffled neckline from Lanvin, its caption reading, “Get the Lanvin look for life, with an auxiliary bone ruffle implant.”

Dramatically different in shape, the images demonstrate a variety of fashionable shoulder silhouettes from the spring 2010 collections of Rick Owens, Alexander McQueen, Balmain, Lanvin, and Givenchy. Beginning with a command or suggestion and including alliteration, the captions play off the language of editorial fashion spreads. I asked Patrik Sandberg to describe the original concept for this spread: RK: Where did the idea/concept for “Shoulder Dysmorphia” come from? What other work(s) were referenced or inspirational for this piece?

PS: The idea was nebulous, as ideas tend to be. Our mutual fascination with the evolution of plastic surgery combined with our frustration toward—and boredom with—the exaggerated shoulder trend in fashion at the time sort of met in the middle with “Shoulder Dysmorphia.” I wondered if women were, at that moment, becoming too obsessed by hyperbolic shoulders. What would it be like if plastic surgery were to make such a fixation a reality? With so many designs aimed at building a synthetically skeletal, biomorphic shoulder situation—a crime most obviously committed by Balmain—it felt natural to imagine women taking the extra step to build a similar skeleton within their own skin.

I suggested, and we all agreed, that we should Photoshop models to have shoulders that resembled these silhouettes, to see if it arrived at some sort of ideal shape; or, quite clearly, a grotesque one.

RK: What were the key decisions during the production process in shaping the imagery? In other words, what were the key elements for the images?

PS: We searched for the most exaggerated and, frankly, ridiculous shoulder shapes of the season, and assigned them to portraits which we had taken in preparation for the story.7 As the editor describes, the models were ‘dressed’ in designer silhouettes through digital manipulation, resulting in a grotesque representation of the female nude. Francis Connelly identifies the grotesque as a “boundary creature” which emerges from a western cultural perspective of the normative body. Connelly explains, “The grotesque is defined by what it does to boundaries, transgressing, merging, overflowing, destabilizing them.”8 It is through these grotesque depictions of fashion that DIS offers its critique.

By positioning these highly publicized and valued designs and designers in a grotesque light, the “crimes” of fashion are revealed.

DRESSING THE NUDE Photo retouching has visibly removed the belly buttons and nipples from the bodies of the models in “Shoulder Dysmorphia.” In our interview, Sandberg addresses this decision, explaining, “We’re always interested in the style of modesty, but this [decision] was more an attempt to erase the boundaries between bodies and clothes, even as we were purposefully exaggerating them. It became more intuitive: what if the clothes became your body?”

21 >>

As he describes, the absence of bodily details such as the nipple or belly button suggest an invisible garment that still functions for the sake of modesty.

Through this decision, “Shoulder Dysmorphia” explicitly illustrates Anne Hollander’s concept of depicting the nude ‘dressed.’ In Seeing Through Clothes, Hollander describes the tradition of the visual arts to reflect the fashion of clothing in nudes. This theory is apparent in any painting or sculpture of a figure which adheres to bodily ideals.

Lynda Nead also explores the female nude as represented in art in “Theorizing the Female Nude.”

Nead reflects on the distinguishing differences between nakedness and the nude, claiming that “The transformation from the naked to the nude is thus the shift from the actual to the ideal–the move from a perception of unformed, corporeal matter to the recognition of unity and constraint.”

She continues, “The nude is precisely the body in representation, the body produced by culture.”9 “Shoulder Dysmorphia” demonstrates the naked body produced by culture, specifically, the trend for outrageous shoulder silhouettes.

22 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

Hollander and Nead have demonstrated the practice of manipulating the nude to reflect fashion in art.

Entwistle argues that this practice is not isolated to the fine arts, arguing that this phenomenon is not dissimilar to the experience of everyday dress. As she writes, “Conventions of dress transform flesh into something recognizable and meaningful to a culture and are also the means by which bodies are made ‘decent,’ appropriate and acceptable within specific contexts... So fundamental is dress to the social presentation of the body and the social order that it governs even our ways of seeing the naked body.”10 The images of “Shoulder Dysmorphia” were produced through digital manipulation, but, as implied by the narrative, it is through aesthetic surgery that these models have attained their culturally produced bodies. Considering the concepts of Hollander, Nead, and Entwistle, the images transfer the means of ‘dress’ from simply clothing itself or an artistic depiction of the nude, to the action of aesthetic surgery.

ORLAN: AESTHETIC SURGERY AS A MEANS OF FASHIONING THE BODY When discussing aesthetic surgery and fashion, especially in the context of the grotesque, it is useful to relate “Shoulder Dysmorphia” to ORLAN, a French artist who is well known for using plastic surgery as an artistic medium. In an interview with Walter Van Beirendonck, ORLAN explains her work in relation to fashion: “If you look at my work from the beginning, you will see that clothes have always been a subject to me [...] What gave me the idea for my performance was a passage entitled La seconde peau -the second skin–which says that one only has one skin all one’s life and that this is disappointing because one never is what one has [...] I thought that in our epoch, it is possible by harmonizing the exterior and interior images by means of aesthetic surgery to give the lie to psychoanalysis and to religion that forbids one to touch one’s body.”11 The aesthetic surgery depicted in “Shoulder Dysmorphia” is in closer relation to ORLAN than to a celebrity like Pamela Anderson, who has become the Hollywood icon of plastic beauty.

Like ORLAN’S work, DIS is subversive. Aesthetic surgery for the means of achieving a fashionable shape is usually associated with specific parts of the female form (the breasts, buttocks, or stomach), with the intention to either increase or decrease their size. These ‘normative’ aesthetic surgery procedures are not meant as performance art, like ORLAN; rather, they are viewed as fulfilling the image of an aspirational body type. “Shoulder Dysmorphia” plays with the idea of aesthetic surgery for the means of fashion, but the satire lies in the types of bodies produced. Collar bones are warped, extended, and multiplied. Upper arms are morphed into points and angles. Like ORLAN, DIS is toying with ideas surrounding the ideal feminine form and unconventional aesthetic surgery.

REMOVING THE ANXIETY OF ‘UNDRESS’ THROUGH AESTHETIC MEANS The text that accompanies “Shoulder Dysmorphia” touches on the anxiety felt by fashion-conscious women to conform to standards of fashion when stating, “It is no small secret that an elite handful of homosexual men are responsible for the self-esteem of millions of women worldwide.” Of course, DIS takes the outcome of this anxiety to a level of absurdity with outrageous images of aesthetic surgery, but the link between fashion and anxiety is not absurd.

Alison Clarke and Daniel Miller conclude their essay, “Fashion and Anxiety,” with a seemingly obvious truth that is frequently forgotten. They write that “the relationship of individuals to fashion is socially mediated.”12 Most everyone has experienced the social unease of wearing the ‘wrong thing.’

Military uniforms, party invitations (‘cocktail attire suggested’), and school dress codes are evidence of the level of attention and judgment we associate with clothing in particular social environments. This social dynamic that DIS grapples with in “Shoulder Dysmorphia” is the same type of anxiety: “consumer anxieties over natural shoulder inadequacy will skyrocket, forcing women to undergo startling new surgical procedures, season to season, in order to keep up with the newest designer shapes.” The social pressure to wear the ‘right’ thing is a result of a perceived gain in cultural capital or social acceptance.

In my interview with Sandberg, I asked him about the general motivations behind “Shoulder Dysmorphia” and how the piece relates to the goals of DIS Magazine.

PS: One of our motives is to create dialogue about what can sometimes seem like an autocratic fashion establishment. Just because corporations put 23 >>

millions of dollars behind certain designs, it doesn’t make them right. When so much money is at stake, following trends becomes a big consideration. It’s a detriment to fashion as an art form. It creates monsters. We made the monsters obvious [...] The satire is geared toward the shapes being advocated by designers at the time. It seemed everyone was in competition for shock value, which is also visible in the unfortunate evolution of the platform shoe, which continues to today. How mindless it is, to keep building and building; much like architects continue to compete for the world’s tallest building no matter the cost. Designers were following trends to an unfortunate place. Perhaps in conceiving it, I felt I was bringing a sobering comment to the conversation about how stupid it all was.

“Shoulder Dysmorphia” operates under the concept of a fashion authority who declares what’s ‘in’ and ‘out’ of fashion, creating social anxiety. This tone reflects that of the feminist theorists of female fashion of the 1970s and 1980s who called for ‘functional’ fashion design. Negrin describes their argument as such: “They argued that women should adopt a more ‘natural’ form of dress which revealed the body for what it was rather than seeking to transform it by artificial means in conformity with some externally imposed ideal of beauty.”13 Though the 1970s and 1980s brought release from the constricting silhouettes of corset-driven fashion of the earliest part of the century, advancements in plastic surgery and the widespread popularity of dieting and exercise could be viewed as replacements for the earlier methods of female body shaping.

As Negrin writes: “Feminists [...] drew attention to the new pressures brought to bear on women by the advent of body-shaping techniques such as plastic surgery, diet and exercise. While female dress became less restrictive, this did not indicate that it had become more liberated since there were 24 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

now more effective ways of moulding the body in accordance with the ideals of feminine beauty.”14 It can be argued that women who seek aesthetic surgery to enhance their physique to achieve fashionable bodies are directly related to the female amputees Marquard Smith discusses in “The Vulnerable Articulate,” these women participate in aesthetic surgery to fit with normative beauty standards.15 Although the social implications are comparably different, both sets of individuals seek bodily modification to align themselves with an established body ideal – something undeniably ruled by culture. The synthetic fashioning of the body has been identified as an answer to social anxiety surrounding an undesired body. Ubiquitous in our culture, synthetic refashioning is a means to ‘fix’ bodies which fall outside of the ideal. Once complete, these bodies are then permanently dressed in a desired vision.

Smith writes, “Much like Gilman’s account of aesthetic surgery in which ‘techniques must constantly evolve so as to perfect the illusion that the boundary between the patient and the group [that they wish to join] never existed,’ developments in prosthetic technology as I have already indicated are in principle committed to the same evolutionary imperative: working seamlessly in such a way as to make themselves invisible.”16 It is this same invisibility that the fashion-conscious seek. The fashion-conscious and the amputees all desire to appear part of a group through fashioning their bodies by means of aesthetic surgery. Plastic surgery removes the anxiety of being an ‘outsider’ by permanently affixing fashion to the body. Those who undergo plastic surgery are no longer naked even when they are without clothing: they are always ‘dressed’ in culture.

CONCLUSION The synthesis of body and fashion, so explicitly illustrated by “Shoulder Dysmorphia,” is the concern of De Perthuis’ notion of the “synthetic ideal.” Considering the concepts depicted in the previous pages of this article, I feel is it worth repeating this description again: “The figure [...] is not, we know, a product of nature, but she is a creation of that which is not nature–fashion. Here fashion has ignored the corporeal realities of the model and created an utterly imaginary form, in much the same way as it would go about creating a garment... the outcome is a synthesis of fashion and the body–a synthetic ideal.” 17 My final question for Sandberg related to the future of fashioning synthetic bodies, either through aesthetic surgery or digital manipulation: RK: Do you feel that we will be seeing more and more of these dysmorphic bodies due to the widespread use of digital photography and Photoshop? Is this interest in the transformative body related to our access to technology?

PS: I think access to technology comes with a desire to explore. I also think the more we adjust to a synthetic view of reality the deeper the backlash will be. I would not be surprised to see more analog forms come back into style. In my job, which is in the fashion industry, I notice an increased desire for stories shot on film rather than digital. A craving for authenticity is built up with every artificial breakthrough. Mixing them, however, will probably always be entertaining. I’d like to see more of an interplay between what’s real and what’s false. It keeps things interesting.

As Sandberg expresses above, the interaction between the real and synthetic will continue to shape fashion and our ideas of the body, and technology will continue to change ideas surrounding the boundaries of the human form. In this climate, those who undergo plastic surgery are no longer naked even when they are without clothing; in fact, they are always ‘dressed’ in culture. >> all images originally appeared in DIS Magazine; photos by marco roso, styling by lauren boyle 25 >>

elisa van joolen:11” x 17” Designer Elisa van Joolen, part of the inaugural class of the MFA Fashion Design and Society program at Parsons The New School for Design, has always been interested in exploring the dynamic and fluid nature of dress in her work.

Van JooIen’s practice is mainly concerned with the current condition of the fashion system and provides a new perspective on the system through her projects and research.

For example, van Joolen’s thesis collection is a project with an emphasis on collaboration.

Interactions, via email and face to face, with diverse fashion brands are at the center of her project. These conversations with, for example, Banana Republic, theory, Calvin Klein White Label, Shelley Fox, Pascale Gatzen, Lacoste, dELiA*s, and Nike led to the donation of garments. Van Joolen used these garments as materials for her collection. In addition she acquired garments from sources as varied as the Salvation Army and the high-end stores of

26 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

New York City to be used in her collection.

As van Joolen describes, the collection is “an assemblage of different garments,” which, when recontextualized, speak to their diverse modes of production, their differences in distribution and fabrication, and their temporal origins and connections. In the process, van Joolen acts as a stylist/editor who carefully selects and repurposes the garments in order to arrive at unexpected relationships and a new way of conceptualizing the diverse and multifaceted system of fashion.

One look, for example, consists of a donated limited edition archive piece (SS 2003), a vintage garment (date unknown) bought in a second hand store and a high-end sportswear piece (SS 2012) acquired in a boutique.

In September 2012 van Joolen will present her thesis collection as ‘new’ during New York Fashion Week.

27 >>

“

I am interested in looking at the entire scope of fashion, from the high-end to the bridge to the mass-produced. There are differences in the distribution and the ‘level’ of each garment.

Some have shown on the runway and in sample rooms. Others will never be produced.

I investigate their diverse modes of production by looking at design, fabrication, distribution, and time and simultaneously emphasize the co-existence of the pieces in daily use.

28 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

This idea of combining different garments is of course already happening on the streets, people mix and match different clothing all the time. But what does it mean to deliberately turn this, combining existing garments, into a mode of production again?

I explore the relationship of fashion and time. Fashion is intrinsically linked with time; as fashion always looks for the newest thing. What is just presented at New York Fashion week is fashionable (‘in fashion’), whereas last season is ‘out of fashion’. What is this newness? Is this the reality of fashion?

I will make cuts in the garments. The cuts are neat, precise and carefully executed. They are equal rectangular tabloid size cutouts and are consistent for all the garments from different origins that I will use. They are like fabric swatches; a sample of a color and material. I see these cuts as a tool to create new perspectives on what already exists.

–Elisa van Joolen

29 >>

Fashion sample (Holiday 2012, produced 03/12/2012 in China), donated, Lower Midtown, NYC, 03/21/2012

30 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

Garment (Spring 2012), acquired at store, Soho NYC, 03/14/2012

31 >>

Archive Piece (SS 2013), donated, Chelsea NYC, 02/25/2012

32 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

Vintage Piece (date unknown), acquired at Salvation Army, Brooklyn, 02/08/2012

33 >>

FANTASTICAL MILLINERY

the hat as a model of conspicuous consumption, 1908-1910

by keremi gawade

34 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

i

n June 1908, a celebrated London milliner exhibited new hat styles for Ascot that exceeded seven feet in circumference and eighteen inches in height. When questioned by a reporter from the New York Times on the excessive size of her creations, the milliner responded, “They certainly are large, but I see no reason to suppose the limit in dimension has been reached yet.”1 This remark was to prove prescient, and by 1910 female headgear had achieved astounding proportions.

Indeed, Colin McDowell asserts that the art of millinery was “pushed to its outermost limits in the first decade of the new century.”2 This article explores the phenomenon of spectacular millinery worn by American women as they indulged in fashionable fantasy. Images and articles from Vogue, Harper’s Bazar, Ladies’ Home Journal, the New York Times, and the New York Tribune, demonstrate the appeal of extravagant hat styles. This article accounts for their huge popularity in America during the years 1908 to 1910 and their function as consummate status symbols.

Since the 17th century millinery had been established as a distinct art form devoted to the creation of elaborately decorated female hats. The later years of the 1900s saw a huge and rapid turnover of hat styles, with milliners desperately searching for novelty. 1908 to 1910 was a key moment for extravagant millinery styles for various reasons.

The birth of the ostentatious picture hat, which became a focal point of fashion during this time, can be traced to the advent of the Merry Widow hat. The Merry Widow hat was designed by English couturier Lucile for an operetta of the same name that made its British debut on the London stage in June 1907. Lucile had been commissioned by the stage producer George Edwardes to design

spectacular outfits for the lead actress Lily Elsie.

As part of these designs, Lucile conceived of a large picture hat that Elsie wore in the last act of the operetta, which became known as the Merry Widow hat. Marlis Schweitzer has remarked how “the Merry Widow hat seems to have traveled freely from market to market, unhampered by the threat of lawsuits for copyright infringement, encouraging a range of interpretations and appropriations as it moved from one performance space to another.”3 In the spring of 1908 the hat arrived in the United States where it became an instant hit and spawned a variety of flamboyant styles. Schweitzer further notes how “fashionable items originally worn by actresses onstage regularly crossed the theatrical footlights, bringing with them an aura of glamour, sophistication, and elegance.”4 The Merry Widow hat was no exception, and newspaper reports from the time suggest that it became a pervasive fashion trend. The craze for the Merry Widow hat reached such epic proportions that in June 1908 a “hot skirmish over ‘Merry Widow’ hats” at the New Amsterdam Theater was reported in the New York Times.5 The article describes what it terms “the Battle of the Hats” which began at a matinée performance of the 275th appearance of ‘The Merry Widow’.

To mark the occasion the theater management had promised souvenir hats to all women occupying the orchestra and balcony seats. However, as there were not enough hats to satisfy demand a stampede ensued. This movement attests to the huge popularity of the Merry Widow hat and the fervor of women in New York to obtain the latest styles in millinery. Further proof of the Merry Widow hat’s prevalence is the fact that it was frequently ridiculed in newspapers. A satirical piece that appeared in the New York Times in May 1908 declares, “This is a season, par excellence of striking hats. Led by the famed ‘Merry Widow’, the styles in headgear for 35 >>

the late Spring and Summer of 1908 are such as to make us look forward with pleasant anticipation to the Autumn.”6 The article continues in a humorous tone, offering the advice “Everybody who moves in any kind of a circle should wear some version, no matter how modified, of the Merry Singer Building Hat.”7

The extravagant hat of 1908 to 1910 can also be attributed to the changing silhouette of women’s fashion. Dress historians have marked 1908 as a decisive moment in fashion history when French couturier Paul Poiret helped introduce a new look that advocated the natural line of the figure. Banishing the S-curve that had dominated fashion, his designs promoted a new direction in fashion, favouring a straight-line silhouette relatively unhampered by the corset. It was in this context that the vogue for huge and excessively ornamented hats emerged. Probert 36 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

asserts, “As the silhouette became less bolstered, skirts narrower, hair more natural, hats began to increase in size and visual importance.”8 Schweitzer, too, has noted, “It is perhaps no coincidence that the rapid expansion of the Merry Widow hat coincided with the introduction of the Directoire or sheath gown, a streamlined style that transformed the female body into a sleek, mobile, and undeniably sexualized modern object.”9 By 1908 the flowing lines, flounces, and frills of Edwardian fashion had disappeared and it fell to the hat to provide visual interest. As clothing became increasingly simplified in silhouette and adornment, the hat had to compensate and make a dramatic statement about the wearer and her economic status.

Even a cursory reading of contemporary fashion press demonstrates that hats were an important element of a woman’s toilette. American fashion magazines of the time feature lengthy articles on millinery and demonstrate how women could achieve the latest styles from Paris. Each season special millinery editions of Vogue and Harper’s Bazar were published informing the reader on new styles and featuring photographs of mannequins and prominent women wearing fantastical millinery creations. Even newspapers felt it their duty to keep abreast of the latest trends, with regular dispatches from Paris. In May 1908 the New York Tribune reported on what it terms “sensational millinery” proclaiming, “Hats were never more complicated and never more important than they are this season. They make the toilet.”10 The New York Times concurs in an article dated October of the same year, stating: “Dearest of all a woman’s dress accessories is her hat, in all senses the apex of her dressing, the crowning of her costume, and the finishing touch, for good or bad of her ensemble.”11 Indeed, according to the journalist, “one’s hat always scores” in the choice between an unbecoming gown

or a becoming hat.12 The importance of millinery to the fashionable look continued through the next few years and in 1911 the New York Times declared “Millinery is always ahead of gowns and coats. It is decided on before the first fashionable gown is even mapped out.”13 Hats were worn for all occasions and there were myriad styles appropriate for different social functions. Female headgear was inextricably tied to etiquette and women were required to wear hats outside, whatever the time of day or the weather, and even indoors at times.14 An article in a 1910 issue of Harper’s Bazar reports on “Novelties from Paris” and gives detailed descriptions of varying styles of fashionable headgear suitable for different events. Included are the dress hat, the street hat, and the “between-time” hat, which served for “afternoon visits, for restaurant luncheons, and for morning musicales, whereas the large feathered hats are reserved for formal restaurant dinners and the theatre.”15 Meanwhile, Ladies’ Home Journal regularly featured a wide variety of millinery models, such as the Out-of-Town Hat, the Garden Hat, and the Lingerie Hat. Such names evoke the leisurely and privileged lifestyle characteristic of Belle Epoque society. As Elizabeth Ewing has observed, “fashion was a badge of social status and its devotees regarded it with high seriousness and full absorption.”16 This is particularly pertinent to millinery, as a statement made by the New York Times in June 1909 affirms, “many women are obsessed by the question of hats.”17 As fashion journals of the period attest it was essential that women be up to date in the latest millinery trends.

From 1908 to 1910 milliners promoted an astounding array of new styles each season. Paris led the way, with many New York companies purchasing Parisian models and copying or adapting them to suit the

American market. The New York Times declared in 1908, “There is an infinite variety in hats this Autumn, and from the high pot crown and narrowbrim to the huge pear shape setting wide beyond each ear, and with a crown following the outline of the brim, there is no end of choice in shape, size, color, and materials.”18 In 1910 the newspaper described millinery trends that year as a “go-as-youplease race.”19 However, one overriding feature of female hats was that they be heavily ornamented and lavishly trimmed. Indeed, the extremity and extravagance of millinery was frequently remarked upon by fashion commentators.

A 1910 edition of Harper’s Bazar reported, “The extreme models among the new winter millinery are so hidden in plumes, so ponderously trimmed with big velvet rosettes, opening like a full-leaved lettuce, as to make it difficult to form any approximate idea of their shape unless you have first examined the hat untrimmed. Are they large? Enormously so.” 20 Such decoration has been viewed as “the last

fashion was a badge of social status and its devotees regarded it with high seriousness and full absorption great flowering of the hat” by Colin McDowell.21 Inspiration was found in multiple sources and Vogue in particular reveled in revealing the stimulus behind such lavish creations. In 1909 the magazine reported that Old Master paintings were studied for models. Hats by Alphonsine resembled those of Gainsborough portraits, whilst “velvet berets à la Holbein and à la Durer are also among exclusive new designs shown.”22 Meanwhile an issue of Ladies’ Home Journal from autumn 1910 cites the new Rembrandt hat as being the latest in fashionable millinery. Portraits sourced at the Museum of the 37 >>

City of New York reveal that such designs found favor with New York’s social elite.

Millinery creations were concocted using the most sumptuous fabrics and trimmings. A hat model of 1909 advertised by the Knickerbocker Women’s Wear Company in New York is described in the following terms, “A strikingly rich Fur Hat – made in Black Lynx, or Brown or White Fox – made by skilled furriers. And artistically trimmed by our expert designers – trimmed with a beautiful cluster of 5 long Genuine Single Ostrich Feathers and Imported Bird.”23 Such language was frequently employed to evoke luxury and opulence. Magazines promoted hats that were made in costly materials, with velvet and sealskin fur as suitable for winter hats, whilst summer millinery was predominantly in straw but bedecked with expensive trimmings such as large satin roses, Chantilly lace, and of course feathers. Feathers occupied a prominent place in millinery of this period. Colin McDowell writes: “the great status adornment for women’s hats were feathers in every shape, size and colour.”24 Despite the formation of the American Audubon society in 1886 as a response to the use of feathers in fashion and with the aim of raising awareness

the last decade of the 19th century and the first of the 20th were periods of extravagant display of endangered bird species, milliners continued to indulge in the use of feathers for trimmings. The continued popularity of feathers is attested to by the sheer number of feathered creations that appear in fashion publications of 1908-1910. The New York Times succinctly remarked, “plumage, too, is in great demand, and unless the birds and aigrettes which adorn the spring models are artificial, one must be 38 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

forced to the conclusion that all the work of the Aubudon societies has had little effect.”25 Excessive trimmings and particularly feathers, added considerably to the cost of the hat. As Vogue highlighted in their August 1909 edition, “the western woman loads her hat with ribbons, jewels and costly feathers, the value of which would mean a year’s competency to the peasant whose simple style she has copied and elaborated.”26 An issue of Harper’s Bazar from the same year concludes that vulture plumes and guinea wings are among the costliest millinery features of that season.

It is in this context that we can view such extravagant millinery creations as being the consummate status symbol. Despite the fact there were perpetual reports that the large and overly ornamented hat might be on its way out of fashion, this did not prove to be the case. During 1908-1910, millinery continued to push the boundaries in size and embellishment. In 1910 the New York Times quashed rumors that small hats were entering fashion, declaring of the new Paris models, “Brims flare to heaven, swerve to the shoulders, and behave themselves in a monstrous and arrogant fashion.”27 Even the new turban, which entered fashion’s lexicon in late 1909, maintained the vogue for outrageously over the top headgear.

Despite not being wide brimmed, the new turban achieved as much notoriety as the picture hat. The New York Times declared 1910 turban models viewed in Paris as being the “highest hat in decades,” certain “to bring more comment and satire than the wide hat.”28 The enduring popularity of large and elaborately trimmed hats can be attributed partly to the changing fashionable silhouette of this period.

Ladies’ Home Journal noted in 1910 how “the large hats suit the simple, slim silhouette of the dressier clothes of present fashions.”29 In addition, excessive millinery endured in New York society because it

allowed women an effective means of flaunting their wealth. In the words of Colin McDowell, “the last decade of the 19th century and the first of the 20th were periods of extravagant display, as fashionable folk in Europe and the United States enjoyed great prosperity and spent huge amounts of money on

self-adornment.”30 For women this increasingly came to be expressed through flamboyant and extreme hat styles.

Writing in 1899, American economist Thorstein Veblen concluded that dress was an expression of pecuniary culture, and that its primary function was to express ‘conspicuous consumption.’ Clothing, and specifically female fashion, should demonstrate that the wearer belonged to the leisure class. Ultimately, Veblen offered a functionalist analysis of fashion, declaring that dress “should not only be expensive, but it should make plain to all observers that the wearer is not engaged in any kind of productive

labor.”31 Through fashionable and impractical clothing, a woman was able to demonstrate her household’s wealth. Although his theory has been challenged, by Elizabeth Wilson, for example, who criticizes the fact Veblen does not account for the role that pleasure plays in fashionable consumption, it would be erroneous to entirely disregard his writings, especially in relation to late Edwardian millinery. For women in New York from 1908 to 1910, hats offered a means to compete with each other in extravagant styles. Through a fancy millinery creation, a woman could brandish how much she spent on her clothing and accessories.

Sumptuous materials and decoration implied an expensive purchase. It was well known how much a Parisian model might cost, as newspapers and magazines continually referred to the high cost of fashionable millinery. In 1908 the New York Times marveled, “Higher and higher soar the prices of these indispensable creations until one wonders where they are going to end.”32 Another reporter drily remarked on the extreme cost of picture hats that could exceed $500, declaring that “they are not intended for warmth.”33 Furthermore, the large and ornate hats of 1908 to 1910 were deemed fairly inconvenient to wear. The impractical nature of these styles is demonstrative of Veblen’s theory that a wearer will use ornate and impractical apparel to communicate membership in the leisure class. As such, fantastically large millinery creations were associated with women who could indulge in a lifestyle of leisurely pursuits. In 1908 the New York Times warned its readers “Beware the Big Hat This Fall”, acknowledging that “the huge hat is properly worn only in one’s own carriage vehicle or on ceremonious and dress occasions.”34 The implication that follows would be that women of lesser economic means should eschew the large hat as it was inappropriate for their lifestyle. The 39 >>

reporter further notes, “the girl on $10 per week who wears the huge picture hat cheapens not only the fashion, but herself as well,” reinforcing the idea that the huge hat was a style to be advocated only by wealthy women.35 Vogue also noted the cumbersome nature of the large millinery creations, describing how “women have fallen for hats whose diameters made them freaks pure and simple, a nuisance to handle and a tribulation to transport.”36 Although referring specifically to the Merry Widow hat, Marlis Schweitzer’s view that it was hardly a practical addition to a woman’s wardrobe is equally applicable to the elaborate millinery of 1908 to 1910.37

and photographed frequently in magazines such as Vogue. Indeed, many new fashions were made at the Auteuil and Longchamp race courses in Paris, and in turn crossed the Atlantic where New York society women premiered them at events such as the Belmont Park races. Reporter Anne Rittenhouse of the New York Times informed her readers that “everyone who watches clothes goes to these races to see what is new and what is old; what is accepted and what is discarded.”41 Many milliners would save their best

However, despite the absurdity and queerness of such creations, the vogue for fanciful headgear endured.

By 1910 millinery accounted for $20,909,552 of luxury imports into the United States, whilst importations of feathers and other manufactured ornaments was estimated at $11,992,033.38 Further testament to the amount spent on millinery during this period is the affirmation that on Fifth Avenue in New York “each annual year the combined ladies of America come here and spend $687,456,345.04 buying millinery that makes them look like Lillian Russell.”39 Considering that this information appeared in a New York Times article in July 1910, the amount of money spent on hat consumption is astounding.

The craze for fantastical and expensive millinery found its most notable expression at society events, such as the races, which became a veritable theater of fashion. Here New York women could compete with each other in extravagant and ostentatious styles. Schweitzer has noted how “wearing a striking variety of an existing style was an effective strategy for attracting attention and raising one’s social status.”40 Fashions at the races were reported on 40 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

and most extreme creations for display at the races.

In an interview with the New York Times in October 1910, designer Monsieur Carlier proclaimed that his large picture hats of that season had been designed for the opening meeting of the autumn races where high society paraded “its pretty things on the club lawn.”42 Vogue particularly relished in depicting New York women at the races and lengthy descriptions

such as the following were given on what women wore: “The wide brim of her white plush hat, faced with black velvet, was turned high in front and curved into a deep dent at one side; from the back a tall black aigrette reared itself gracefully.”43 This is further evidence that during 1908 to 1910 hats were the focal point of fashionable looks paraded at the races. Photographs taken by the Séeberger Brothers, although shot in Paris, exemplify the extravagant hat styles that found favour with rich American women in the late Edwardian period. Similar hats, many of which were Parisian models, can be seen on women wearing them to New York society events. Expensive millinery creations were a means of displaying not only style and fashionableness, but also, and importantly for this period, status and wealth.

To conclude, it is clear that as a new, simplified silhouette took hold in female fashion, hats constituted an increasingly important part of a woman’s wardrobe. Examining fashion magazines

fashionable hats became bigger and bigger as skirts narrowed and newspapers from 1908-1910 demonstrates that extravagant millinery creations became the focal point of many fashion illustrations. Numerous covers of Vogue, Harper’s Bazar, and Ladies’ Home Journal feature colored fashion plates of mannequins in which the only apparel displayed are their large and elaborate hat styles bedecked with ribbons, roses and feathers. Furthermore, fashion photographs of New York society women featured in Vogue depict them all wearing ostentatious headgear. During the late Edwardian era fashion was still led by the upper echelons of society, who would compete to outdo one another in lavish attire. As Elizabeth Ewing has

observed, there was a certain contradiction in the freedom achieved by the clothing advocated by Paul Poiret, and the continuation of more restrictive fashions: “in one respect the ‘liberation’ which Poiret promised failed to materialize, at least for some time. Fashionable hats became bigger and bigger as skirts narrowed.”44 At the time excessive hats were explained by some publications as simply a manifestation of the irrationality of fashion.

In 1909 the New York Times declared, “but what absurdity to even think of explaining a fashion! It is accepted or rejected, but never reasoned with.”45 However, I would also stress that excessive millinery creations characteristic of this period were also the consummate status symbol, allowing women to parade their expensive taste in dress. Extravagantly sized and excessively trimmed hats attained a certain snob value.46 In this respect , the millinery of 1908 to 1910 can de deemed a mirror of its age in which New York society women sought to participate in Thorstein Veblen’s conspicuous consumption. It took the onset of the First World War to fully shatter the dominance of these fantastical and impractical millinery creations. At this point the structure of society was radically altered, marking the end of the ostentatious golden era of late Edwardian society.>>

photo credits (in order of appearance): photograph of lily elise, photographer unknown, mid-1900s, courtesy of the national portrait gallery; photograph by the séeberger brothers, image courtesy of “elegance”; photograph by the séeberger brothers, date unknown, image courtesy of “elegance” 41 >>

y

x

A SOUND THEORY an exploration of the sensory experience of clothing by maria echeverri

42 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

t

he history of dress is particularly well suited to an examination through the senses. All five senses operate as primary mediators in the creation and systematization of aesthetics, an act of cultural codification that occurs alongside the more corporeal role as transmitters of information for the body. Similarly, clothing functions as a cultural exchange, where multifaceted and coded messages are communicated through the physical properties of dress distinctive to a particular period. To dress is a choice that is dictated by both personal preference and social parameters that are concurrently culturally constructed. As the act of wearing clothing is a sensory encounter, the interpretation of that action can be enhanced vis-à-vis an acknowledgement of dress as a multi-sensory action. Certain senses, specifically sight and touch, are at the forefront of dressing as a full-bodied experience, yet one would be remiss to discount the other three. Sound may be secondary in function perhaps, but certainly not in significance. The act of making and hearing noise is implicit in the experience and interpretation of

clothing. A thorough examination of the evolving nature of sound in clothing throughout the history of dress ultimately magnifies its importance, while simultaneously explaining its oft-overlooked status by the nuance of its function.

In The Study of Dress History, Lou Taylor states “the physicality of clothes–their smell, sound in movement and tactile qualities–has rarely been assessed in dress/textile histories although these considerations are central considerations within the processes of design, manufacture and consumption.”1 It is true that there has been very little exploration of the sensual nature of dress, less so of its aural dimensions. Visual culture has traditionally relegated the proximal senses to an inferior standing due to their phenomenal associations. Such a line of traditional thinking is based on a long-standing historical contest in Western thought between the rational mind and irrational body. It is precisely this immediacy to the body, however, that allows for a more categorical exploration of dress.

43 >>

Sound is always active. Even in sleep, one is always hearing, a phenomenon that makes a compelling case for sound as the central sense in realizing the world. This state of unremitting stimulation may result in a disregard based on familiarity, one that certainly contributes to the present scarcity of sound’s investigation. It is a sense that exists in a constant state of duality, more so than any of its sister senses. It is omnipresent yet ephemeral, operating constantly for the recipient yet provisionally for the

paragon of paradoxes, sound is equal parts physical and psychological, conflicting and contradictory, but functionally so, defined purposely by the duplicity of its nature.

Emergent fashion theory has looked to the physicality of dress to tie fashion to the body. In Anne Hollander’s Seeing Through Clothes, the author examines Western art and clothing by establishing a symbiotic relationship between the two. She argues

sound is always active. even in sleep, one is always hearing, a phenomenon that makes a compelling case for sound as the central sense in realizing the world. creator. Sound is officious, continually occurring in more than one place, expanding and multiplying with a playful and unyielding avidity that makes it difficult to control. It is a truly sociable sense that connects bodies while resisting privacy. As a fleeting sensation, it is emotionally compelling in its ethereality. Yet for all such dynamic configuration, it is considered an intimate, trustworthy and participatory form of sensory engagement. Its variability is unmatched among the other senses and as a communicative exchange it can be manipulated to create an engaging state of intimacy. We listen with our entire bodies; the three-dimensionality of acoustic cues geographically grounds our bodies in space. This form of physical orientation is instinctively reliable. Indeed, as an aftereffect of a physical act, sound is palpable as vibration. A

44 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

that the nude body is a primordial ideal of beauty that does not hold true in a culturally constructed society, while the clothed figure represents “truth in worldly experience”; in other words, the nudes of any given period mimic the fashionable silhouettes of the time.2 Hollander’s correlation between body and dress is expanded upon in Elizabeth Wilson’s Adorned in Dreams. She states, “Dress links the biological body to the social being, and public to private. This makes it uneasy territory, since it forces us to recognize that the human body is more than a biological entity. [...] Clothing marks an unclear boundary ambiguously, and unclear boundaries disturb us. [...] If the body with its open orifices is itself dangerously ambiguous, then dress [...] not only links that body to the social world, but also more clearly separates the two.”3

The clothed body is mediated through the physical body, a real and substantial rather than abstract experience. Similarly, Joanne Entwistle looks to various interdisciplinary approaches, drawing equally on structuralism and phenomenology to argue that dress is “a situated bodily practice” in congruence with the social world and order. “The body and dress operate dialectically: dress works on the body, imbuing it with social meaning while the body is a dynamic field which gives life and fullness to dress.”4 Her research reinforces the idea that the relationship between dress and body is symbiotic.

In this bodily-conscious branch of fashion studies, a solid framework for examining the relationship between corporeality and dress is established. I would argue that a continuation of this investigation lies in a reading of the senses, beginning with their role as bodily transmitters. The senses at large function especially well in the gray area of mutability and transmission that exists at and around boundaries.

If clothing “marks an unclear boundary” of the body, then the senses function at heightened levels in this flexible area of exchange, clothing acting as the tangible vehicle through which sensual expression is transmitted between the body and the outside world.

The body itself is never silent; joints crack, eyelids flutter and air noisily pours in and out of the lungs.

A fetus’ most evolved sensory perception is sound – the rhythmic pulse of the mother’s heartbeat is a steady and calming reverberation. All our bodily sounds, which are often lost in their familiarity and subtlety, are in fact a reassurance of life itself, a signal of our most basic and compelling vitality.

When a clothed body makes noise, it is an escalation

of this natural state. The use of clothing to amplify the sound made by the body as it moves is an occurrence in which an individual has the potential to manipulate his own physical being through transformation.

To understand clothing as an extension of the self, one must remember its manipulative potential.

Clothing at once contains and enhances the body.

The power of clothing would be greatly diminished, if not completely eviscerated, if it exactly mimicked the human body. Psychologically, it operates most notably to either expand or inhibit facets of the wearer’s personality. Just as the body exists in a multi-sensory state, dress mimics this corporeal existence. The body is transformed in all forms of physicality: a platform heel, a tightly laced corset, a satin slip, or a musky cologne. In relation to sound, the rustle of a taffeta petticoat or the jingling clink of layered bracelets amplifies the body. When we wear something noisy, we are at once noisy ourselves; yet we become an exaggerated version of our own being in that moment.

Elemental to the understanding of sound in clothing is an investigation of sound theory. There are two scholars whose theoretical examination of sound has contributed greatly to my own investigation.

A first comes from Brandon LaBelle’s Background Noise: Perspectives on Sound Art. LaBelle follows the history of the development of sound as an artistic medium. His work is grounded in the extraordinary acuity of sound and he explains, “Sound is intrinsically and unignorably relational: it emanates, propagates, communicates, vibrates, and agitates; it leaves a body and enters others; it binds and unhinges, harmonizes and traumatizes; it

45 >>

sends the body moving, the mind dreaming, the air oscillating.”5 LaBelle is particularly interested in the relationship between sound and space, and makes three very important and substantial points in his introduction which help illustrate the importance of sound in the experience of clothing: sound is always in more than one place, sound is never a private affair, and sound occurs among bodies.6 These actualities immediately bring to mind Elizabeth Wilson’s assertion that dress links the public to the private.

In The Audible Past: Cultural Origins of Sound Representation Jonathan Sterne looks to the history of sound, arguing that before the nineteenth century, sound was only experienced in an immediate and present manner; that is, the development of technologies that allowed for sound recordings had an explicit effect on the way that we experience and interpret sound. For Sterne, the history that pre-exists sound-reproduction technology is meaningful and prolific in its function in creating this technological innovation and sociological shift. This shift signals not only a change in the way the world sounds, but the way we interpret these sounds. Therefore, our understanding of the way that clothing sounded during the Renaissance must always be considered through the fidelity of contemporaneous aural sanctity. Such reliability makes sounds more intimate, familiar, and precious,and an audible assertion through clothing would be accepted and more affective than in more cynical times.

In what he names the audiovisual litany, a framework predicated on a hierarchical framework of the senses, Sterne lists the differences between hearing and 46 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

seeing that highlight the ways in which sound can function differently in clothing. While vision offers perspective, sound immerses its subject. Vision is concerned with surfaces and requires distance from the outside world, while hearing is concerned with interiors and immerses us in that world.7 For all their disparate realities, auditory clues function similarly to visual ones in that they are purposeful and meaningful, and in fact, the two senses typically operate jointly in sartorial expression. However, social cues that are transmitted through sound are pre-conditioned with a varying interpretation that allows for a more personal and intimate message.

Sterne’s work provides valuable insight that I would argue supports the theory that intimacy is built into the construction of sound as a form of communication, and most importantly, highlights the differences between the auditory and visual elements of clothing.

Again, we see that sound mimics clothing in its essence. For all its subtly and transience, sound is incredibly well suited to support and magnify the experience of wearing clothing. The constant juxtaposition – between intimate and social, public and private, directional and enveloping – allows for an expression of sartorial reality that’s strength lies in its versatility. The complexity of this study then is perhaps not finding a link between the clothing and sound, but learning how to investigate history so as to experience it audibly, a struggle that, especially before the age of sound recording, seems particularly challenging. This paradoxical nature of how sound functions mimics what we have seen in the study of the body. Furthermore it maximizes the potential of sound as a conductor of culture through bodies by the very nature of its own flexibility.

Sterne’s study brings to light a significant obstacle in the investigation of sound in clothing that is rooted in its innate ephemerality. Historian Leigh Eric Schmidt notes, “Almost all of history is eerily silent, and so to evoke those stilled and faded voices, the historian must act as a kind of necromancer.”8 Moreover, analyses are time specific, that is, what is notable to record is entirely subjective, and must always be understood as such. The acoustic

with his own experience.”9 All forms of literature, from heavy prose to popular short stories, can be especially significant and successful in evoking the multisensory aspects of dress as it tones down the dominance of the visual properties, and in doing so highlights the other sensual expressions.

The corporeal characteristics of sound point to a constant action of consumption, the act

the complexity of this study then is perhaps not finding a link between the clothing and sound, but learning how to investigate history so as to experience it audibly. historian must always be cognizant of this fact, and must continually seek out imaginative forms of research to draw forth the veiled resonances and undulations of the past.

One of the most effective sources is, ironically, that which displaced sound as the Western world’s primary ordering sense–the written word. Anne Hollander explores the strength of literature in the interpretation of clothing through the secondary senses. She states, “How garments are visually designed and how they look when ordinarily worn is the part of the image that is nearly always missing from the literary mirror when it is held directly up to nature. [...] In fiction, clothes are generally treated less as visual phenomena and more as aspects of emotion, to be similarly communicated to the reader, often in terms of behavior and so assumed to be recognized by him as having kinship

of attainment that is so quickly associated with sensuality, sexuality, and lust. This instinct runs counter to values of higher civilization, the dichotomy of civilized man vs. natural instincts, of societal structural pressures vs. the development of the individual are dilemmas that play out throughout the history of the modern era. Like so many other factors of culture, sound in clothing reflects this struggle, and continues to evolve in post-modern times. To hear sound in clothes is natural because the body itself is sonorous. What occurs in fashion is that this natural sonic state is continually manipulated, suppressed, or amplified depending on social conditions. One needs only to image the muffled rhythmic taps of the gloved hand to conceptualize this ongoing struggle. >>

47 >>

project gamarra Initiated as an entry to a Peruvian design contest on the topic of fashion and ethics, designer Lucia Cuba's Project Gamarra is a celebration of Lima's garment district, a central resource for designers in the capital city. In creating clothing from the woven plastic shopping bags used everywhere in the marketplace, Cuba’s Rafia collection elevates the local and the intimate in design, speaking her devotion to community, transparency, and honesty within the fashion system.

Cuba understands fashion practices to be both engaging and social, which is why she has opened the project to online contributions from those who know and love the Gamarra district, and why she hopes to bring the Rafia collection home, reuniting the work with its inspiration. For Cuba, fashion is a narrative form, a way for diverse audiences to understand an experience on and through the body. With Project Gamarra, Cuba seeks the points of connection between the commercial fashion system, community activism, and the lived experience of dress.

Visit the project website at www.proyectogamarra.pe for more information.

48 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

49 >>

wearing your friends HOW THE NAMED GARMENT ACHIEVES INTIMACY AMONG CONSUMERS

by sarah handelman 50 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

t

he fact that she didn’t know it made Minnie even more of a knockout. In one strut she was timeless; in the next, entirely of the moment. Minnie was an enigma made all the more spectacular by contradictions. The cut she struck was both structured and lithe; daring but demure; forgiving yet unforgettable. She existed to make others look better despite her own unknown glamour. She flirted with the sensibility of one who was not shy about her curves but understood the power of imagination. It wasn’t her intention to intimidate most who met her, but for those who kept her close, she was something special: trousers.

Anyone who’s met Minnie will tell you she is not simply a pair of pants.1 One Google search for “Minnie Pants” reveals pages of devout worshipers who “must have” her. Minnie’s maker, J.Crew, touts her magic qualities: “If you buy one pant this season, make it Minnie,” says her online description. “She’s chic and slim fitting…with a vintage-inspired cropped leg we love.” Although Minnie fits surprisingly well, her tailoring isn’t what makes her special. It’s her name. A dream pant’s moniker is easier to remember than a SKU number, but J.Crew’s reasoning for bequeathing its “magic pant” with a prenom is not driven by mnemonics.2 A proper name suggests qualities beyond cloth.

Minnie represents a social shift in our concept of personal relationships. “We can understand dress as expressive of the concerns of the particular cultural milieu and social situation in which it is found,” writes Joanne Entwistle in “The Dressed Body.”3 “Dress conveys information about a situation” and provides feedback through our interest, use and perception of it.4 Because many of our daily interactions occur virtually, we connect to and identify with people and material goods differently from their physical compatriots. In personifying the inanimate through unique monikers, brands, such as J.Crew and the socially conscious glasses retailer

Warby Parker, are capitalizing on our search for authentic relationships with the Named garment.

Buying into Named garments such as Minnie reflects a vulnerability perpetuated by life spent in the virtual world. As we abbreviate ourselves down to scheduled tweets of 140 characters, we long for something that feels just real enough. And what is more quintessentially human than a proper name?

TRANSITION PIECES In the physical environment of a J.Crew store, the Named garment plays a minor role in our decision to choose, try on and purchase. How we engage with the three dimensional object (seeing color, touching fabric and examining fit) matters more than a proper name; we trust our senses to help us determine whether the garment is worth buying.

But strolling into a J.Crew store is no longer the initial step in our interaction with garments. Our first impression with that sweater or those shoes begins virtually, through tweets, blogs and inbox blasting. The crispness of twill and the punch of a color fade in an online world of window-shopping.

So we search for physicality elsewhere. When it comes to reading clothes outside of the store, semiotician Roland Barthes suggests we naturally trust two speech structures to weigh a garment’s message, or chance of entering our closet.5 First, image-clothing results from the fashion photograph and forms an iconic speech structure.

Another tongue — the written-garment—develops from description and represents verbal structure.6 Together, they form the ‘mothertongue’—the physical garment. In online retail environments, a series of photos and color swatches fulfill Barthes’ iconic speech structure. Product descriptions fit the verbal (both of these original languages support the physical reality of, say, a pair of trousers). However, when a proper name is attached to a product, it signifies the need to introduce a new speech structure within Barthes’ system: an emotional one.

51 >>

The emotional structure of a proper name sparks a relationship with pants that transcends the physical interactions that would normally occur in a store.

Verbal and iconic structures confirm the pants are real, but the emotional structure connotes a personto-person exchange. Online, the Named garment allows us to establish trusting relationships with products through action that simulates clicking personal profiles, rather than transactions devoid of humanity. That sweater? She’s Tippi. Those shoes?

Mona.

In “Meat, Mask Burden: Probing the Contours of the Branded Self,” information and media studies professor Alison Hearn writes, “The degree to which a brand is able to embody human attributes is dependent on the degree to which it is able to insinuate itself into the lives of consumers in profound ways.”7 J.Crew’s success has been fueled by reasonably sincere but virtual representations of the physical. Unlike other mall-type brands that rely on seasonal mashups of anonymously beautiful models to showcase clothes, J.Crew’s creative director Jenna Lyons functions as the face for the company. Because of this presence, she’s become

minnie represents a social shift in our concept of personal relationships. no small celebrity. While companies such as Loft and Banana Republic employ generic, sample-sized models to lead campaigns, Lyons “doesn’t look like anyone else in fashion,” writes Molly Young in a 2011 profile of the creative director in New York magazine. “She has an emphatic jaw, flowerbud mouth, and warm eyes,” and she’s developed credibility with J.Crew’s flock by insinuating elements of her real life into the online realm.8 In a regular 52 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

feature called Jenna’s Picks, Lyons curates a visual list of favorites that mix what one might buy online with real life. For-sale pumps, chambray shirts, a favorite shade of coral lipstick and a personal photo of her son portray Lyons as a down-to-earth fashionista who knows her shit, not someone trying to hawk it. Lyons’s online visibility has enabled the company to make names, both real and imagined, a standard part of the online experience. Visitors can email erica@jcrew.com to schedule online or instore appointments with personal shoppers. While you probably won’t meet anyone named Erica, a pseudonymed address lends humanness to a help desk. The company’s Tumblr, 770 Behind the Line, gives aspirational 20-somethings (or bored housewives) a daily dose of life at headquarters all through the voices — signified by a first name only — of the J.Crew fam. And what of Minnie? Her name injects personality into an otherwise massproduced pair of 80 dollar, wool-spandex blend, ankle-length pants.

DRESSING THE PART Fashion is a compass that points to cultural change.

Originally, the emergence of pants for women signified vaguely modernized attitudes towards traditional domestic roles. The rise of the catalog illuminated a wealthy and aspiration-oriented middle class whose shopping schedule could not be dictated by store hours. Now, the potential for virtual, personal tête-à-têtes now drives our motivation to engage online. Caitlin Barrett, a senior naming consultant at Interbrand writes: “Naming trends have come to reflect the way we share experiences with our friends, fans, and followers in a world we’re constantly constructing together. Names have gone back to basics, reflecting truths about humanity and the world around us and in the process, they’re delivering a whole lot more authenticity.”9 Admittedly, most of Barrett’s corporate report

is littered with public relations jargon, but she highlights the need for humanness in fashion. In order for us to connect with clothes as we connect with each other, Barrett notes that companies must rethink the elements that affect our decision to fill imaginary carts.

The Named garment feels authentic because its identity comprises a larger brand ethos.10 With Jenna at the helm, J.Crew’s website, blog and pseudonymed personal shoppers maintain a first name basis with consumers. Various relationships can develop simply by browsing for clothes or accessories online. For those who buy glasses from Warby Parker, two definite relationships form. First, a trusting, tangible partnership blossoms between a person and a pair of named frames. And because a pair is donated to a person in need for every pair of named glasses purchased, the second relationship to spark is authentically human. An effortless way of buying glasses ingrains the idea that this market values you. A charitable (albeit indirect) act between the consumer and the underprivileged deepens understanding that this market values what’s real.

Ultimately, the Named garment lets us be the arbiters of a socially oriented fashion we can maneuver, alter and change when we can’t change much.

FITTING IN The Named garment isn’t everywhere. Nor should it be. Interspersed between stripe sweater skirts and toothpick jeans are Jules, Blythe, Tippi, and a handful of others. J.Crew’s selectivity suggests there’s a method at work here.11 Lots of companies give their clothes proper names, but not every strategy succeeds. Martin, Jackson, Logan, and Sloan denote the fits of Banana Republic’s trousers, and denote is all they do. They serve as nom de plumes rather than authentic characters to buy, bring home and live in.

The proof of their inauthenticity is online. A search for Minnie Pant yields a cache of images and rave reviews from fanatical J.Crew blogs. Type in Sloan Pant, and the results are grim. Banana Republic’s “sexiest” fit makes it into the first three links before getting lost among unrelated cargo-pocketed and draw-stringed pants of the same moniker. While the trouser’s name probably can’t be linked to Gap Inc.’s 36 percent decrease in revenue for its third quarter, their unimaginative implementation symbolizes a company’s ill grasp of consumer desires.

The Named garment functions best within the framework of a few choice shirts, sweaters, pants, and every day accessories (a stylish pair of shoes, a bag and glasses). One need not possess a discriminate sense of style to note that decent versions of all of the above are difficult to find.

Minnie has a name because J.Crew wants her to be your go-to — the flexible pant you trust for an interview, a first date and lunch with Grandma.

Of J.Crew’s roughly 72 wedding dresses (many of which are only sold online), 55 bear proper names, which suggests that the company’s clientele of brides might want more than something that fits.

While establishing a connection to the dress was certainly on her radar, my newly engaged friend Lauren was caught off-guard when she scheduled an appointment at J.Crew’s bridal shop to try on gowns: 53 >>

“Casual as day,” she told me, “upon confirming my registration the lady at the J.Crew bridal store asked me for the names of the dresses I’d like to try on. I knew, like, generally the silhouettes I was interested in, but I then had to scramble onto [the website] to find the names. I felt so silly, like when people ask you if you’re wearing ‘Candy Apple Green’ or ‘S.W.A.K.’ and they’re referring to Essie or O.P.I. nail colors.” But referring to wedding dresses as Named garments (rather than less tangible designoriented concepts such as A-line or mermaid) serves an explicit purpose. For a day many women believe will happen just once, gowns called Isabella, Taryn, or Larissa allow brides to develop a trust with the garment they order online and wear down the aisle.

She’s not your gown, she’s your friend.

Recently, another friend purchased two pairs of glasses from Warby Parker, whose product names sound as if they’re destined for jazz or literary pursuits. He ended up with Winston and used the glasses names to determine a tiebreaker between Sinclair and Japhy. (He chose Sinclair.) “I really wanted Griffin to work,” he said. “I think that’s my favorite of all the names. But they didn’t fit my face very well.” Buying glasses often requires an investment of not just currency, but time.

Warby Parker’s choice to bequeath each pair with an attractive name signals that one can trust these glasses to perform a function beyond utility. They’ll make you look good. Unnamed, a pair of glasses is simply a tool. But Owen? Finn? Sinclair? Those are visionaries to count on.

The Named garment is not a revolutionary idea.

Hermès created the infamous Birkin bag for Jane.

Jacqueline Kennedy fueled an entire genre of round, oversized sunglasses. Celebrity names connote the imagery and inspiration behind the articles we might buy. Others that begin as a proper homage become 54 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

so popular that we may never realize a certain sweater was named after the Earl of Cardigan, who led the charge of the Light Brigade. We do not always carry the burden of history; we wear it. More recently, retailers such as J. Peterman and Anthropologie have made a business of bringing our time-traveling and adventuring dreams to life by suggesting clothes

we do not always carry the burden of history; we wear it. can take us places — by way of intriguingly exotic garment names (such as Sinewy Spots Wide-Legs) or prosaic descriptions.12 These garments elicit any number of fantasy-driven emotions. But the specificity of their names pigeonholes them into alternate worlds. These are escapist clothes. They reject the reality of modern life by suggesting that excitement exists everywhere besides here and now.

Perhaps what a wearer wants is to feel right where she is.

SOUNDS FAMILIAR Many Named garments are still vaguely recognizable.

If you know who Hedren is, J.Crew’s Tippi sweater might suggest an updated silhouette based on Hitchcock’s leading girl in The Birds. J.Crew’s CEO Mickey Drexler has cited the Jackie cardigan as a best seller.13 Most names, however, rely on our personal canon of associations to connect: Tillary conjures visions of a Park Avenue Blair Waldorftype. Even though Beckett looks nothing like the specs worn by Samuel, he sounds smart in a literary type of way. Ultimately, the Named garment highlights the fine line that is drawn when we invest trust in transformation. Try as we might, time and place simply don’t allow one to feel like a bonafide Gatsby-era golden child in J. Peterman’s 1927 Party Dress. More online retailers such as Shabby Apple and Modcloth have infused every garment with

quippy puns or aspirations, but the obvious cliché cuts through: Clothes don’t make the man or woman.

In assuming acquaintanceship over connections that have conventionally been driven by celebrity or poetics, manufacturers aren’t developing clothing that defines us but rather, supporting characters to include within our own stories.

This association of implied friendship through fabricated trust, enables our connection to a Named garment to extend beyond the closet: “I love these names just as much as I love a handmade quilt, painting, or that perfect song at the perfect time,” writes Kristin Gregg on her blog, Marginamia. In addition to regular updates, the writer and name consultant has documented 39 Warby Parker monikers and dozens of J.Crew garments in an ongoing list of “compositionally beautiful and creative names” for soon-to-be parents. “Where better to start instilling a sense of magic and beauty than with the sounds we will use evermore to call out to our children, the sounds that they will hear linked with their beings for the duration of their lives?” she writes. Gregg’s passion to fetishize the Named garment is innocently (questionably?) extreme. However, her obsession signifies that

personal rapport — not between brand and buyer, but buyer and product — has been established. We trust in the names and their possibility as much as the clothes themselves.14 Still, who really cares what their pants or glasses are called? On the surface, we might mistake fashion’s influence and expressiveness as design-related.

However the industry is, of course, about more than the aesthetics of what gets worn. Not everyone cares about names. People who hate shopping won’t prolong the material-goods exchange by projecting character associations onto pants called Minnie.

Yet the success of the Named garment proves that what’s on the inside certainly counts for something.

In a post-digital world, the Named garment achieves something our social networks cannot. We may never meet the three-dimensional version of our complete online cohort, but Minnie has a name.

Order her. She’ll arrive at your door. Touch her.

Smell her. She’s real. She’s yours. >>

all images by sarah handelman 55 >>

addressing the

wedding

dress

essay by molly rottman with reflections and collages by laura snelgrove 56 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

it’s a nice day

for a white wedding the past and present of the white wedding dress in western culture

w

by molly rottman

eddings seem to be everywhere as television shows such as Say Yes to the Dress, Four Weddings, and Bridezillas have risen in popularity. Weddings no longer seem to be about unions or love, but rather about throwing the trendiest and most extravagant events, produced for months with the help of friends and family.

Although wedding styles and traditions are everevolving, one truism remains: the bride needs that perfect dress.

designers are attempting to provide alternatives to the white wedding gown.1 So why is it that challenging this tradition can still create such turmoil? Only time will tell whether or not these efforts at breaking from the accepted norms become recognized as legitimate options alongside the white wedding dresses to which we have become so accustomed.

Furthermore, the narrative surrounding the white bridal ensemble is not nearly as straightforward as the wedding gown industry would have us believe.

According to the aforementioned shows, a “perfect dress” tends tends to take on the form of the ceremonial white ball gown. However, though many brides continue to seek out that “cotton-ballcouture” look for their big day, there is a new bride who doesn’t wish to wear white on her wedding day. Yet alternatives do not only come in ivory or cream, but rather can range from blue to yellow and even black. But where do these modern looks fit into the traditional bridal salon? Overbearing mothers, mothers-in-law, bridesmaids, and sisters often demand a stark white bridal gown for the big occasion. Sadly, it’s often not just family who demand it, but brides themselves seek out white because it is “tradition.”

Although the white wedding dress has become synonymous with purity, the truth about how bridal fashion has come to take this form has little to do with purity. Rather, the prominence of the color white derives from considerations of wealth and status. Deborah Arthurs of the Daily Mail in the UK writes, “Until Queen Victoria popularized the trend for white when she wore the shade for her wedding to Prince Albert in 1840, many brides— including royals—had worn gowns in a variety of hues […]Many elite families wore white as a status symbol—an expensive gown that could be easily ruined was a sign of conspicuous consumption.”2 Thanks to Queen Victoria, brides coveted the white wedding dress because it proved they were wealthy enough not only to wear white without soiling it, but also showed they had enough money to buy a dress for one-time-only use. When brides wore various

As fashion styles proliferate with the speeding up of the fashion system, more and more bridal gown

57 >>

colors and hues to their weddings, a large part of their motivation was having a dress that could be used again.3 To better illustrate this point, author Susanne Friese provides in-depth detail about the colors and materials of past wedding dresses, as well as the meanings these symbols conveyed: “In the eighteenth century the favorite colors for bridal dresses in Europe as well as in the New World were yellow and gold. Some gowns were made from blue brocade, a few in pink and fawn. It was not until about 150 years ago that the color white became popular for wedding dresses. The reasons for it were, however, not as one might perhaps think, based on morality and other deep reflections on the meaning of the wedding dress. Moreover, it was a result of brides wanting to follow fashion trends during times of product scarcity. At the time when white became the preferred color for wedding dresses, it was not in vogue to wear heavy silks and brocades for evening wear and wedding gowns.

Instead, thinner fabrics such as muslin, organdy, gauzes, or linens were preferred. As these fabrics were primarily available in white, women who wanted to follow fashion trends had more or less no other choice than to wear a white wedding dress.

Related to the fact that the color white has all along been loaded with meaning, it was only then that the wedding dress also became a symbol for purity and innocence of girlhood.”4 As Friese informs us, both the color and the meaning of the popular wedding gown have drastically changed throughout the years.

Additionally, Annette Lynch writes, “The tradition of the white wedding dress was picked up more slowly in the

58 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

United States. Early colonists and later immigrants had limited means and access to high fashion and often wore colored gowns that were worn for other dress occasions.”5 Thanks to bridal gowns now being created by designers like Vera Wang, brides are willing to spend more money than ever to own a piece of customfitted, designer couture. The fantasy wedding we know today “emerged most clearly in the 1950s.

With the return of soldiers from World War II and the return of women to the domestic sphere, the fantasy wedding gown symbolized a return to more clearly marked gender differences and roles.”6 The gendered dimensions of the wedding dress are still at play in determining what the typical wedding dress looks like today, and underscore the virginal associations bought and sold along with the gown.

Considering these virginal undertones, it is interesting to note how the normative modern bride desires a ‘classic,’ ‘traditional’ wedding dress, yet she still wants something strapless, backless, or low-cut.

Joanne Eicher explains that our expectations are different for how men and women are meant to cover their bodies in public, which is true in everyday dressing, but highlighted particularly for formal ceremonies. Eicher writes: “In elaborating upon the example of the wedding dress, even though white is said to represent virginity, many formal wedding gowns call attention to the sexed body of the bride.

They are frequently designed with a slim waist, deep frontal décolletage, display of bare neck, shoulders, and sometimes back. For example the Fall, 1999 issue of Brides a magazine from the publishers of

Vogue, Glamour and Mademoiselle, featured (both in advertisements and editorial features) 271 women as brides (as indicated by the color white and the formality of their gowns… In addition, 33 men, assumed to be ‘grooms’, were shown in advertisements and editorials. In all cases, the men wore some type of suit with a shirt and shoes that covered them from neck to feet. In the case of the brides, 239 had décolletage, 269 an exposed neck, 257 exposed arms, 235 exposed shoulders and 149 an exposed back.” 7 Thus, there is an irony in how these brides adhere to tradition, yet, while standing at the altar, are highly sexualized in their dress. It seems that while men are expected to look refined, women are expected to look pure, sexy, and fashionable—not an easy feat. Based on Eicher’s study, it seems that brides engage in a negotiation between bridal tradition and modern desires when selecting their ‘perfect’ wedding gown.

In a Harper’s Bazaar article in 2009, Amy Larocca publicly defended her choice to wed in blue.

Larocca writes, “I wanted my wedding dress to have some relationship to the clothes I wear every day, to connect to the person I am on all of those other, normal, non-getting-married days.”8 In order to be true to one’s personal style, one needs more choices than white, ivory, cream or bone. Vera Wang seems to agree with Larocca, judging by Wang’s latest bridal collection from Fall 2012. On the runway, Vera Wang displayed all black wedding dresses, saying, “I found black to be fresh and tongue-in-cheek.

With all the big weddings that happened this year,

it was fun to step out of the box.”9 However, not all brides are confident enough to step outside the box, though many may flirt with the prospect. For example, Sarah Jessica Parker made waves with her little black wedding dress when marrying Matthew Broderick in 1997. While this was a somewhat monumental event fifteen years ago, the follow-up has been disheartening since Parker has flooded every mainstream fashion publication declaring her regrets. When asked what she would do differently, Parker says, “White it up. I’d wear a beautiful, proper wedding dress, like I should have worn on that day.”10 It seems as though the competing forces of tradition and distinction continue exist in an uneasy balance within the commercial fashion world, as they surely do for many contemporary brides.

While many women know little about the history of their white wedding attire, these same women feel emotionally, morally, and perhaps almost contractually obligated to don the ‘perfect,’ ‘fairytale’ gown. Would this change if brides learned the truth?

What would religious, conservative parents have to say about the white wedding dress not actually being historically tied to virginity? The fact that a woman’s style and place in the world are constantly evolving means that the wedding dress must catch up as well. The fact that top tier designers like Vera Wang and Vivienne Westwood are designing nonwhite wedding gowns says something about the future of the wedding dress. There will always be stark opposition to a practice perceived as traditional or sacred, but once these traditions are manipulated, how sacred are they? >>

59 >>

FUCK THAT NOISE the alternative wedding dress in practice

t

his winter, I attended The Great Bridal Expo with three friends, primarily as an experiment.

Not that we wouldn’t have accepted the free trip to Jamaica if we’d won the raffle, but it would have been hard to claim the prize anyway, since we gave fake information to most of the eager booth attendants looking to lock us down for their mailing lists. Looking up at the runway as models paraded the latest synthetic-and-bead confections, I realized that my own wearing anything of that ilk would essentially amount to a drag show. That particular bridal version of ‘femininity’ has less than nothing to do with my own gender identity, and even less to do with committing my love to anyone. Nevertheless, I am technically a bride.

60 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

by laura snelgrove

One year ago, I married a super cool and fun dude. Skipping the boring details, I will just say that after many other options were exhausted, we realized that a city hall marriage was necessary, now. We nailed down two witnesses, called our parents and grandparents (“Can we come?” “Naah don’t bother”), and I bought an inexpensive navy sundress I knew I would wear all summer. I won’t pretend I didn’t practice my full wedding-day look in the mirror a handful of times, but all things considered, the preparation was insanely low-key.

The day itself (coinciding with New York State’s ratification of marriage equality! Woohoo!) was equally no-fuss and, suddenly, we were married. We promised our families that we would follow it up

with a ‘real’ wedding at home this coming summer, and we now find ourselves preparing for this bizarre, emotionally-charged second event.

I need to back up a little and confess something.

Although I no longer recognize that person, I grew up as obsessed with wedding weddings as any child that ever existed. I had a ‘wedding ideas’ scrapbook (aka lo-fi Pinterest board) filled with pictures of dresses, cakes, invitations, shoes, and decorating schemes from Martha Stewart Weddings and InStyle Weddings (barf). From the time I was six or seven, I kept a binder of make-believe wedding plans for people I had invented, complete with seating plans, vendor information, menus, and sketches of gowns. I admit to this only to convince you that my wholesale abandonment of and scorn for the wedding industry has been arrived at honestly. I have lived the other side of that breathless whatgown-will-I-wear-omg-it-has-to-be-the-best-one-so-I-lookbeautiful-in-all-the-pictures experience, and it is all a load of bullshit.

Like many of you, most likely, I believed that the white wedding dress maintained its chokehold on the hearts and minds of brides and their families because of its cultural associations with purity until I read Molly Rottman’s piece on the preceding pages.

Though I do feel some relief to hear that it is not so simple, it seems as though the collective assumption of this symbolic link essentially performs the same function; that is to say, if everyone thinks that white symbolizes virginity, then it kind of does.

Furthermore, if the historical connection is actually to the display of wealth and status, well then, fuck that noise too. I’m not sure that’s any better, and it certainly has just as little to do with me and my state of mind upon marrying my best bud.

Though I do feel strongly that women are misled and cheated into wasting enormous sums of money

by the bridal industry, I do not wish to focus on this for fear of offending anyone who has chosen to buy into the whole charade. That is your choice, though I wish you’d make another one, because I love you. Instead, this is meant to be a reflection on the process of creating a dress that can provide me the same satisfaction and comfort that those white satin whatzits seem to provide ladies on TV. Dressing for any party is usually a process of trying to feel as good as you can under certain constraints including time, what’s clean that day, and how much you actually care. None of these constraints really apply on one’s wedding day, but the desire to feel as good as possible about one’s clothes is the same, only heightened. I don’t care much about how I’ll look in photographs (it’s never good, so why try), but I get the sense that with more people than average paying attention to me on that day, I don’t want to be distracted by feelings of discomfort, either physical or the mental kind that comes from wearing something not quite right. To me, the solution is obvious. I will of course wear red, because red is the best color in the world.

The look of the dress I will be wearing came to me in a vision. One day I didn’t know what on earth I’d wear to my own wedding, the next day I knew exactly: it’s got cap sleeves and a square neckline, a fitted bodice and a big, voluminous skirt to just above the knee. The veil is shoulder-length, stiff, and navy blue. The face underneath it is mine, though weirdly enough the hair is Kate Middleton’s.

I looked for this dress everywhere for months, but it never materialized in its ideal form. Thankfully, I have two wonderful friends whose sewing and pattern-making talents I am able to exploit. Jess and Maeve both volunteered their time and expertise to make this dress dream a reality from a foundation of vintage patterns found online, which brought to my mind a madcap montage of the three of us 61 >>

laughing, drinking cocktails, sewing, and modeling the dress as it came together. Of course, nothing remotely like that has happened.

Soon after this plan was settled, I visited my family for Christmas, where I received a basementsmelling green plastic bag from my aunt. Within it sat that scourge of so many movie brides–my grandmother’s wedding dress, circa 1945. I know the dress well from photographs of the two lovebirds, younger than I am now, frozen in their pre-children, pre-grandchildren, pre-brain cancer innocence. Our grandparents’ wedding photos are visualizations of the eternity of evolution that resulted in ourselves.

We see ourselves in the photos, yet no one smiling at the camera seems to realize we’re there. To have this experience materialize in the form of a longsleeved, shoulder-padded, narrow-hipped, satinwith-lace-trim-and-covered-buttons dress was surprisingly heavy.

My grandmother died 18 years ago, when I was nine years old. I loved her and I miss her, though I knew her for so little time. I have been told countless times that I have her shape, that she is responsible for my surprisingly large rib cage, that I should one day grow into her golf legacy. Holding her wedding dress in my hands, I sense the weight of this supposed genetic connection. That wedding of 67 years ago was fixed in the past as soon as the dress was stored away in a trunk, but now it is back, re-animated, awoken from its sleep. And when I try this thing on, maybe I will realize all the dormant potential of the dress as a mystical goodluck charm for a long, happy marriage filled with laughter, children, roasts of beef and Yorkshire puddings, games of cribbage played late into the night, cross-country skiing followed by a Scotch on the rocks (or two or three), goofy gardening clothes and barbeque aprons, holidays in the mountains, and 62 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

the assurance that one of you is going to take care of the other while they slowly die, leaving behind a grey vinyl zippered pouch of ashes from the funeral home, which he’ll keep in his desk drawer until he can bear to look at it long enough to empty it into an urn, which he’ll then move to an old folks’ home and place under the painting he made of you the year after you died when he took up oil painting because he suddenly needed to learn what hobbies were.

Or, maybe the dress won’t fit and will just make me feel fat. Compared to a dead person.

Of all the clothing-related wedding conventions, the one that bothers me least is the one about wearing something old, new, borrowed, and blue.

According to the internet, this tradition also has its roots in Victorian England, and is driven by a kind of talismanic logic. You wear something new to symbolize your hope for the future, something borrowed in the hopes that a friend or relative’s marital success will rub off on you, something blue to represent my personal bête noire – bridal purity, in the style of the Virgin Mary – and something old to signify continuity with the past and to respect the family heritage of the bride. I doubt that anyone reading this journal needed further confirmation that clothing provides a bridge between the symbolic realm and the intimately personal, but if you did, there it is. On the ‘most important day of our lives’ (yuck, more lies), we surround ourselves with these items of dress as protection against the harsher realities of life. If we do it right on that day, wear the right things, maybe we can ward off unhappiness, divorce, and death.

In the course of my writing this piece, my other grandmother passed away at 90 years of age.

Following her funeral, my uncle quietly presented

me with her engagement ring from my grandfather.

She had left it to me in her will, unbeknownst to anyone, after I had admired it last summer. I will of course wear it this summer when I pretend-re-marry my husband, who she loved, knowing that this late act of thoughtfulness and generosity allowed her to be there with us, granting her blessing, when she did not live to make it in person.

We are reassured throughout our lives that our elders are responsible for the physical way we appear in the world, but in truth we inherit so much more:

traditions, clothing, our models for relationships, happiness, and graceful passing when the time comes, among so many other things. When we do not have these people present to assure us as we pass from one phase of life to another, it is no mystery why the garments they leave behind find such pride of place within our rites and rituals. Weddings force a lot of people to make promises they cannot and will not keep. At the very least, incorporating the material of our past allows us to keep our promise to remember. >> 63 >>

GLAM METAL T H E

A R T

O F

64 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

T H E

C E N T E R F O L D

by anya kurennaya

G

lam metal, a subgenre of heavy metal marked visually by high-volume hair and lurid dress, and lyrically by a ravenous lust for the opposite sex, took hold in the United States in the mid-1980s unlike any other strain of heavy metal music ever had before. Thanks in large part to glam acts like Poison, Mötley Crüe, and Twisted Sister, heavy metal dominated the charts: sales of heavy metal records increased from only eight percent of all records to a whopping 20 percent between 1983 and 1984, and by 1987, heavy metal records accounted for as much as 40 percent of all records sold in the United States.1 Glam metal was particularly commercially successful among the various threads of metal music thanks in large part to its strong visual focus, which was perfectly in

tune with the image-conscious climate of the 1980s and the visually engrossing medium of the music video, broadcast 24/7 on the ’80s-launched MTV network.

One of the most thought-provoking examples of marketing imagery for glam metal, however, is the collection of so-called pin-ups and centerfolds which circulated in numerous fan magazines. While at first these images appeared interspersed among articles and album reviews, they soon dominated certain magazines and led to the formation of others, such as the aptly titled Hot Metal Centerfolds, which focused almost exclusively on, clearly, ‘hot’ metal centerfolds. Most of these images were culled from publicity shots and photo shoots, and their content was quite simple: the band members (or just lead singers), oftentimes without instruments, posing in 65 >>

colorful but simple studio settings. Group photos generally had some degree of cohesion in terms of both dress and the individual members’ poses; however, band members still retained a degree of individuality rather than assuming a uniform, boyband look. Individual shots of frontmen or lead guitarists could be portraits or full-length shots.

Regardless of the format, these images contain within them an interesting contradiction: on the one hand, they communicate a potent, dominant, and arguably masculine sexuality, but at the same time, they make use of the feminized glamour typically associated with the historically feminine pin-up format.2 One such issue of Hot Metal Centerfolds, dedicated to Poison, demonstrates these ‘feminizing’ tendencies perfectly. Underneath an image of the band, the following copy introduces the reader to the section of the magazine devoted to Poison articles and pin-ups: “Hot Metal Centerfolds presents this very special POISON SECTION for all of you, the readers of this jam-packed mini-poster mag!! In this issue, we feature group shots of the sizzling, sweltering band [Poison] that you, the fans, chose as one of your favorites. We’ve also managed to get solo shots of each band member–in action or posing for our cameras!! The Poison Invigorating Info is a must-read and we even gathered personal facts on the four glam rockers which offer a different perspective on the individual personalities that make up this hot outfit!! Most importantly, this magazine is crammed with as many full-color shots of C.C., Bobby, Rikki and Bret as possible. That’s the important thing–the pin-ups!! Enjoy them!!”3 The blatant reduction of the band members to objects of the reader’s gaze serves to replicate the strategies used in most pin-up magazines featuring women. Adjectives like “sizzling” and “sweltering” 66 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

emphasize the primacy of sexual appeal above all else, and the “invigorating info” provided about the band members in the following pages is less informative than it is sexualized, noting things like the band members’ height, weight, and favorite leisure activities, not unlike the factsheet one finds accompanying a Playboy centerfold. Another Poisoncentric issue of a similar magazine, the Superstar Special Poison Color Spectacular, includes an advertisement for Poison centerfold special issues and promises “powerhouse posters,” “sensational centerfolds,” and “Poison-ous pinups,” supplemented by “hot, hot info” and “wicked party pix.”4 Again, the reduction of the band members to sexualized studs takes precedence over the promotion of their musical doings. What makes these examples all the more unusual is that one of the defining features of heavy metal in particular (and rock music more generally) is its marked and pervasive focus on the masculine: “metal is overwhelmingly concerned with presenting images and confronting anxieties that have been traditionally understood as peculiar to men, through musical means that have been conventionally coded as masculine.”5 The resultant “bricolage of male power and female spectacle”6 that is so evident in glam metal thus needs to be carefully calibrated in order to still fall within the confines of metal’s concern with power and masculinity.

A variety of pin-up shots makes the careful attention to sexualization and gendering clear. In them we see a variety of long-haired frontmen, their lithe male bodies in suggestive and provocative poses. In most, there is an apparent contradiction between the sartorial signifiers which suggest macho masculinity (leather, chains, boots, etc.) and the posturing of the body sporting them. In one image, Skid Row’s lead singer Sebastian Bach peers coyly from behind a partition, his long blonde hair cascading in front

of his face. In another, Bach appears to be at the beach: he is nude from the waist up and his upper body is angled toward the viewer in a sinuous twist usually reserved for the swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated. At the same time, though, we glimpse Bach’s tattoos, faded denim, and jewelry, meant to reinstill the masculinity he ‘sacrifices’ when assuming such wanton feminine poses. Jani Lane of Warrant appears in another centerfold, entirely nude save for a few necklaces and a pair of leather gloves, the gloved hands holding a framed image of cherries over his genitals as an allusion to his suggestive hit single “Cherry Pie.” This is an especially intriguing image because the song title and associated lyrics make crude reference to female anatomy, detailing the sexual exploits between the narrator and the female object of sexual desire, whose cherry pie allegedly “tastes so good it makes a grown man cry.” The lead singer’s name even appears in the upper right hand corner as Jani “Cherry Pie” Lane, further linking him to the feminine object whose exploitation he describes in the song’s lyrics. In another centerfold, Stephen Pearcy of Ratt appears

more fully clothed than Bach or Lane, yet his reclining body and his open leg stance speak to an objectified sexuality that belies the dominant masculine image communicated by the leather jackets, chains and belts in which his body is clad. An image of Mötley Crüe lead singer Vince Neil employs the same tactic, featuring Neil in a vulnerable, protective gesture with his arms wrapped around himself while his tattoos, leather, and chains suggest a powerful and dominant masculinity. All of these images speak to a set of bodily practices codified as feminine, incongruous with the sartorial signifiers which communicate a macho masculinity. If we add to the mix the voluminous, cascading hair, and touches of makeup, the resulting image becomes quite difficult to decipher in terms of gender.

The Playboy centerfold, the contemporaneous female analog of the hot metal centerfold, is a site that is quite visually and ideologically similar to the heavy metal centerfold. Looking at such imagery in conjunction with glam metal images adds another dimension to the discussion of heavy metal and 67 >>

sexuality that can be linked with gender performance and objectification. In the same way that typical Playboy centerfolds include props to suggest the presence of a man, so too do metal centerfolds use masculine-coded props to carefully balance the femininity of their hair and makeup, clearly borrowed from the ladies. In fact, the two realms are almost mirror images of one another during this period. In one Playboy image, Miss February 1986 wears an officer’s hat and jacket to suggest romantic involvement with a public officer, while carefully coiffed and made-up metal centerfolds wear peaked caps and badges to reinforce their masculinity and to suggest an irreverent anti-authoritarian stance.

Similarly, Miss March 1992 borrows from typical metal iconography when she wears a leather jacket and reclines across the seat of a motorcycle. And the similarities run both ways: male metal stars are often decked in the scarves, satin, and lace that recur time and time again in Playboy’s centerfold shots, as if they had ransacked their stripper girlfriends’ closets just prior to the photo shoot. As Joan Acocella points out, Playboy centerfolds grew more and more 68 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

elaborate in the 1970s and 1980s, adding to the sense of artificiality already developing as a result of increasingly trim bodies and buoyant breasts.

Viewed in opposition to the Playboy centerfold, the ‘hot’ metal centerfold communicates the mutability of gender demonstrated by glam metal style: the glam metal musicians subvert the feminized format of the hot metal centerfold by co-opting it, using it to advance their own discourse of an androgynouslyinflected masculine sexuality.

We can view the phenomenon of ‘hot’ metal centerfolds as an example of the transgression of cultural gender codes, wherein glam metal musicians act as bricoleurs, recombining a host of diverse signifiers, all in the interest in communicating a glam ideology of power and sexuality. But in having to go through such laborious methods to preserve this visual manifestation of glamour, the musicians negotiate a complex balance between fitting in to a subculturally prescribed, if still rebellious and transgressive, mold, and conforming to the same kinds of rigid power structures that they had hoped

to escape in the first place by becoming glam metal musicians.

Consequently, glam metal musicians were constantly put on the chopping block for their techniques of appearance management, if only because these techniques were made more culturally visible than traditional techniques of preserving ‘natural’ masculinity because of the feminized glamour involved. The musicians had to constantly defend their grooming practices and use of cosmetics, as ample interviews demonstrate. A quote from Poison’s Bret Michaels reaffirms the singer’s insistence on musical integrity, which is placed as a counterpoint to looking good: “If I just wanted to look good, I’d be a model. Of course I want to be good lookin’, it helps me to get laid […] But music is the only reason I’m in this. I love rock and roll.”7 This quote speaks to the compensatory strategy of the glam metal musician in a few ways. First, the singer offers a justification for his grooming and appearance, implicitly suggesting that care in dress and appearance runs counter to the metal

ideology and therefore needs to be defended. He then accounts for his appearance by explaining that its primary function is to secure sexual attention, implying that this is his primary motivation and metal performance is solely the vehicle. He then covers for this misstep by reaffirming his allegiance to ‘the music’ first and foremost, reinforcing his ‘authentic’ love of the virtuous aspects of musicianship.

Though feminized glamour is invoked for the sake of cultivating sexual appeal, compensatory steps towards masculinity, such as the appeal towards an authentic sense of musicianship, are often taken to redress the balance. However, this emphasis on image does not automatically negate the musician’s claim to authenticity; rather, the explicit presence of sexualized selling through pin-up type imagery helps us recognize that the careful framing of gender and sexuality are an inherent part of the musician’s cultural visibility. >> all images originally appeared in glam metal fan magazines and are reproduced here for noncommerical purposes 69 >>

your body is a temple

t

he Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or the Mormon Church (LDS), believes that bodies are temples and thus sacred. As a result, the church encourages modest dress among its members, particularly women, to conceal the sacred body.

Modesty is readily applied after one is endowed in a temple ceremony, thereafter wearing sacred undergarments that should never show. Before one’s endowments, modesty is expected among the church’s youth, priming them to eventually wear the garments. Beyond preparation for garments, however, Mormon women undergo negotiations in 70 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

BY NAMI KIM

dressing modestly, as there is historical evidence and contemporary implications that the female body has the power to tempt the opposite sex into sexual sin.

Investigating the paradoxical reasons for modest dress among Mormon women, my work explores whether Mormon dress conventions exist to cover the sacred or to cover the seductress. Through my work on this subject, I argue that the amount of skin exposed on a member in the Mormon Church is considered a measure of the strength of one’s testimony, reiterating the inherent paradox that the body is both a temple and a site of temptation. Yet

in spite of numerous contradictions in Mormonism, the church’s strength arises from these paradoxes.

Despite the inference of the femme fatale in the church’s push for modest dress, however, some Mormon women find possibilities in producing and shaping their identities through modesty rather than viewing the concept as a set of repressive guidelines.

Additionally, many Mormon women joyfully navigate modesty guidelines and current fashion trends, evident from a recent rise in Mormon modesty fashion blogs like “Clothed Much,” “Cats and Cardigans,” and “Wearing it on my Sleeve.”

On each blog, the blogger proudly announces their reasons for modesty and their involvement in the LDS church, exhibiting fashionable choices for those under religious restrictions. While invisible from public eye, it is clear that two of the three bloggers wear temple garments—because they are both married and thus endowed (though one does not need to be married to be endowed). LDS temple undergarments have recently exploded in cultural consciousness because of political candidates Mitt Romney and Jon Hunstman.

Temple garments are only worn by endowed Mormons, and the garments provide a literal and figurative barrier between the self and society, between the Mormons and the masses.1 The temple undergarment is a marker of personal agency that the church bestows upon its members, imbuing temporal material with eternal significance. Because of its hidden nature, another member or nonmember cannot tell if an individual is wearing his or her garments properly. Wearing the garments is thus self-policed rather than publicly scrutinized in the Mormon community. Carlos Asay of the Quorum of the Seventy states that faithful endowed members properly wear their garments because they “understand the virtues of the sacred clothing”

rather than merely treating it as “just another piece of cloth.”2 Asay described the temple garments as an armor of God and outlines the garment’s three principle purposes: 1. It is a reminder of the sacred covenants made with the Lord in His holy house, 2. A protective covering for the body, and 3. A symbol of the modesty of dress and living that should characterize the lives of all the humble followers of Christ.3 The armor that each endowed member wears bears protective qualities that shield from “the real battles of life in our modern day” acting as a physical barrier between the body and clothing, and the temple and various temptations associated with the world.4 Some LDS members, however, do not wear the garments properly, removing them “to suit whims of circumstance,” which the church warns that such actions place their “spiritual protection in jeopardy.”5 The First Presidency released a statement in 1988 stating that one’s relationship with the Lord, and thus how one chooses to wear their sacred undergarments, is personal, but “the promise of protection and blessings is conditioned upon worthiness and faithfulness in keeping the covenant [of properly wearing temple undergarments].”6 The temple garment thus acts as a reminder to the wearer of the covenants he or she has made with the Lord, so they must be worn at all times (save swimming and showering). How it is worn, then, becomes “an outward expression of an inward commitment to follow the Savior.”7 The temple garments are worn by endowed men and women, and the church offers different materials for optimal comfort. Garments are sheer or opaque two71 >>

THE TEMPLE UNDERGARMENT IS A MARKER OF PERSONAL AGENCY THAT THE CHURCH BESTOWS UPON ITS MEMBERS, IMBUING TEMPORAL MATERIAL WITH ETERNAL SIGNIFICANCE.

piece ensembles. For men, the garments resemble boxers or briefs that hit above the knee and a shortsleeve undershirt. For women, the shorts hit at the knee or mid-thigh, depending on the chosen style purchased at the church distribution center, and the top features a scoop neck with cap sleeves. Simply stated, the temple garments are a symbol of eternal commitment to the faith.

Ginger, an endowed member, explains that the garments are “sort of like a shield against […] immodesty […] it’s like a force field shielding your

72 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

temple.”8 Endowed members promise to wear the garments as much as possible. There are varying extents to which members wear the garments, some may take it quite literally when they are told to wear them night and day. Others, however, may opt to remove them for certain occasions. The level of commitment is unique to each member. Being endowed and wearing temple garments, however, is already a sign of considerable commitment to the church and its dress practices. Ginger expresses that she experienced only a subtle shift when she began wearing temple garments, as she “was taught to be

modest even when [she] was younger, before [she] hit puberty.” She also revealed, however, that she had to abandon some pieces from her wardrobe “because the back neckline was too low.”9 While her overall style remained relatively consistent after becoming endowed, noting no obvious change in dress practice from her teenage years (save trends), she notes that her self-surveillance increased as to “make sure that [her] clothes are modest so that [her] garments aren’t showing […] it’s like showing your underwear, and that’s weird!”10 The temple undergarments, and the faithful member’s wearing of them, embody the physical manifestation of personal agency so central to LDS theology. Despite the absence of temple undergarments, unendowed faithful members dress as if they are wearing garments to prepare themselves for the sacred clothes, which arguably displays a more heightened “commitment and control” due to the lack of tangible modesty guidelines.11 Like Betty, an unendowed interviewee attending Brigham Young University for a degree in theater, some seem to have an understanding of the sacred wear.12 When asked about her understanding of temple garments, Betty replied: “They are a sacred symbol of a covenant of once we go to the temple and we take out our endowments. It is the symbol that we wear in kind of a remembrance and an outward sign of something that we’ve internally covenanted.”13 Betty commits to the commandment-like modesty guidelines as she understands that it is to prepare herself to enter the temple and receive her garments.

Indeed, the Mormon Church’s dress practices straddle the line between intimate experience of temple undergarments and the public presentation of religious identity through modesty.

My research has not addressed the global expansion of the church, and a further interest of mine includes the faith’s stringent western dress standards. How do women abroad negotiate their cultural wear to fit within the standards of the Mormon Church if their dress habits do not already comply with western dress? How do these western impositions affect other cultures that honor and value different dress practices? What can be said about the relativity of modesty and its explicit ties with western dress practices? Given that temple garments have been crafted with western dress in mind, what effects does this have on a potential convert if the church asks for conformity to its normative dress standards? Mormonism has many questions to answer, and it has a number of contradictions that are negotiated by its members daily. Despite the conflicting messages surrounding modesty in Mormonism, Mormons seem to find strength from the church’s purported lifestyle rather than its lack of “theological consistency.”14 Matthew Bowman explains that we must understand that the religion is “a work in progress, and, paradoxically, it is strongest when it acknowledges that it is yet half-built.”15 Just as Mormons shape their characters through church guidelines, the church also constructs its identity and eternal principles through its members and, paradoxically, the temporal world of which it is a part. >>

photo credits (in order of appearance): utah mountains oil painting by brever johnson; mormon underwear rendering from 1879 via the salt lake daily tribune; photograph of légami by redbanshee via flickkr creative commons; photograph of the oquirrh mountains rlds temple by photo dean via flickr creative commons

73 >>

endnotes On Shopping for Big Girls’ Jeans

1. Margrit Shildrick, Embodying the Monster: Encounters with the Vulnerable Self (London: Sage Publications 2002).

2. Ibid., 4.

3. Allison Adam, “Big Girls’ Blouses: Learning to Live with Polyester,” in Aly Guy, Elieen Green and Maura Banim eds. Through The Wardrobe: Women’s Relationships with Their Clothes (Oxford: Berg 2001), 46.

4. See Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger: An Analysis or the Concepts of Pollution and Taboo (London: Ark 1966) and Eviatar Zerubavel, The Fine Line: Making Distinctions in Everyday Life (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press 1991).

5. Karen Jaffe, Forming Fat Identities (Doctoral Dissertation), retrieved from Dissertations and Theses Database, UMI No. 3335536 (2008), 71.

6. Suzan Nanfeldt, Plus Style: The Plus-Size Guide to Looking Great (New York: Plume 1996), 29.

7. Jaffe, 2008.

Steampunk 1. Falksen, G.D., “Steampunk 101,” October 2009, retrieved from http://www.tor.com (Accessed April 28, 2012).

Fashioning Synthetic Bodies 1. Entwistle, Joanne, “Fashion and the Fleshy Body: Dress as Embodied Practice” (Fashion Theory, 4:3, 2000), 326.

2. Ibid., 326.

3. Ibid., 324.

4. Karen De Perthuis, “The Synthetic Ideal: The Fashion Model and Photographic Manipulation” (Fashion Theory, 9:4, 2005): 409. See also Anne Hollander, Seeing Through Clothes (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1993).

74 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

5. De Perthius, 409.

6. From www.dismagazine.com 7. Patrik Sandberg, Email interview by author. Email correspondence. New York, NY. November 28, 2011.

8. Frances Connelly, “Introduction” In Modern Art and the Grotesque (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 4.

9. Lynda Nead, “Theorizing the Female Nude,” The Female Nude: Art, Obscenity, and Sexuality (London: Routledge, 1992), 14-15.

10. Entwistle, 323-324.

11. Pascale Renaux, “Artifice,” in Walter Van Beirendonck & Wild and Lethal Trash, Believe (Rotterdam: Museum Boijmans Van Beunigen, 1998).

12. Alison Clarke and Daniel Miller, “Fashion and Anxiety” (Fashion Theory, 6:2. Oxford: Berg, 2002), 209.

13. Llewellyn Negrid, “The Self as Image: A Critical Appraisal of Post-Modern Theories of Fashion” (Theory, Culture and Society 16:3, London: Sage, 1999).

14. Ibid.

15. Marquard Smith, “The Vulnerable Articulate,” in Marquard Smith and Joanna Morra, The Prosthetic Impulse: From a Post-Human Present to a Biocultural Future (Cambridge: The MIT Press, 2006), 49-60.

16. Ibid.

17. De Perthius, 409.

Fantastical Millinery 1.“Merry Widow Hats Outdone,” New York Times, June 14, 1908.

2. Colin McDowell, Hats: Status, Style, and Glamour (New York: Rizzoli International Publications Inc. 1992), 220.

3.Marlis Schweitzer, “ ‘Darn that Merry Widow Hat’: The On and Offstage Life of a Theatrical Commodity, Circa 1907-1908”, Theatre Survey 50:2 (November 2009), 193.

4.Ibid., 201.

5. “Hot Skirmish Over ‘Merry Widow’ Hats,” New York Times, June 14, 1908.

6. “Some Amazing Fashions in Hats and Garments,” New York Times, May 10, 1908.

7. Ibid.

8. Christina Probert, Hats in Vogue Since 1910 (New York: Abbeville Press 1981), 8.

9. Schweitzer, 207.

10. “Summer Gowns Will Cling,” New York Tribune, May 3, 1908.

11.“Potpourri of Fashion – Some Hints of the Season’s Modes,” New York Times, October 4, 1908.

12. Ibid.

13. “New Spring Hats Prolific of Names,” New York Times, April 9, 1911.

14. Probert, 8.

15. “Novelties from Paris,” Harper’s Bazar, 1910.

16. Elizabeth Ewing, History of Twentieth Century Fashion (London: Batsford 1992), 5.

17. “The Hat Question One That Each Woman Appears to be Trying to Solve for Herself,” New York Times, June 27, 1909.

18. “Potpourri of Fashion,” New York Times, October 4, 1908.

19. “Small and Large Hats in Fashion,” New York Times, April 24, 1910.

20. “Autumn and Winter Hats,” Harper’s Bazar, 1909.

21. McDowell, 97.

22. “Early Autumn Millinery Importations,” Vogue, August, 1909.

23. Ladies’ Home Journal, December 1909, Vol XXVII, Number 1.

24. McDowell, 100.

25. “Summer Gowns Will Cling,” New York Times, May 3, 1908.

26. “Curious Coincidences of Hat Styles,” Vogue, August, 1909.

27. “New Hats are Sweeping of Brim,” New York Times, March 20, 1910.

28. “What the Well Dressed Woman Wears,” New York Times, August 7, 1910.

29. “What the new Hats from Paris are Like,” Ladies’ Home Journal, September 15, 1910.

30. McDowell, 100.

31. Thorstein Veblen, “The Theory of the Leisure Class,” in Dainel Purdy ed., The Rise of Fashion: A Reader (Minneapolis: The University of Minnesota Press 2004), 279.

32. “Summer Gowns Will Cling,” New York Times, May 3, 1908.

33. “Why Not a College of Millinery Art,” New York Times, February 25, 1910.

34. “Beware the Big Hat this Fall,” New York Times, October 4, 1908.

35. Ibid.

36. “Curious Coincidences of Hat Styles,” Vogue, August, 1909.

37. Schweitzer, 207.

38. “All Records Broken in Importation of Luxuries,” New York Times, November 13, 1910.

39. “The Hashimura Togo Tourists Invade New York,” New York Times, July 17, 1910.

40. Schweitzer, 198.

41. “What the Well Dressed Woman Wears,” New York Times, August 7, 1910.

42. “What Carlier Says about the New Hats that Paris has Made Fashionable,” New York Times, October 9, 1910.

43. “Winter Frivolities Bring Forth an Amazing Showing of Important Sartorial Details,” Vogue, 1910.

44. Ewing, 72.

75 >>

45. “Every Shape of Hat this Season Must Have a Rakish Tilt Over the Left Eyebrow,” New York Times, December 26, 1909.

46. Probert, 7.

A Sound Theory 1. Lou Taylor, The Study of Dress History (London: Manchester University Press, 2002), 109.

2. Ann Hollander, Seeing Through Clothes (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), 448.

3. Elizabeth Wilson, Adorned in Dreams (New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 2003), 2-3.

4. Joanne Enstwistle, Body Dressing (Oxford: Berg, 2001), 36.

5. Brandon LaBelle, Background Noise: Perspectives on Sound Art (New York: The Continuum International Publishing Group Inc., 2006), ix.

6. Ibid.

7. Jonathan Sterne, The Audible Past: Cultural Origins of Sound Representation (Durham: Duke University Press, 2003), 14-15.

8. Leigh Eric Schmidt, “Hearing Loss” in The Auditory Cultural Reader (New York: Berg, 2003), 41.

9. Hollander, 422.

Wearing Your Friends 1. “A commodity appears, at first sight, a very trivial thing, and easily understood. Its analysis shows that it is, in reality, a very queer thing, abounding in metaphysical subtleties and theological niceties.” From Karl Marx, Capital: A New Abridgement, ed. David McLellan (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995), 42.

2. Though this essay focuses on the implications of the Named garment, shelter brands often use monikers to identify products. IKEA founder Ingvar Kamprad discovered that giving his company’s products proper Swedish names made them easier to remember. Garden

76 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

furniture is named for Swedish islands; carpets are named for Danish places. (Henley 2008) However, IKEA has stereotypically engendered certain product ranges, dubbing chairs and desks — typical working and office structures — with the names of men. Domestic items, such as fabrics and curtains, are given women’s names. From Jon Henley, “Do You Speak Ikea?” The Guardian, February 4, 2008 (Accessed January 28, 2012), http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2008/feb/04/ shopping.retail.

3. Joanne Entwistle, “The Dressed Body,” in The Fashion Reader: Second Edition, eds. Linda Wlters and Abby Lillethun (London: Berg, 2007).

4. Ibid., 183.

5. Roland Barthes, “Written Clothing,” in The Fashion Reader: Second Edition, Linda Welters and Abby Lillethun (London: Berg, 2007), 134.

6. In principle, these two garments refer to the same reality, and yet they do not have the same structure, because they are not made of the same substances and because, consequently, these substances do not have the same relations with each other: in one the substances are forms, lines, surfaces, colors, and the relation is spatial; in the other, the substance is words, and the relation is, if not logical, at least syntactic; the first structure is plastic, the second verbal… So we are dealing with two original structures, albeit derived from more general systems, in the one case language, in the other image.”

From Roland Barthes, “Written Clothing,” in The Fashion Reader: Second Edition, Linda Welters and Abby Lillethun (London: Berg, 2007), 132.

7. Allison Hearn, “Meat, Mask, Burden: Probing the Contours of the Branded Self,” Journal of Consumer Culture, 8.2 (2008), 197-217.

8. Molly Young, “The J in J.Crew: How Jenna Lyons Became the Most Unlikely of Tastemakers (a word she destests),” New York Magazine, August 14, 2011 (Accessed

January 26, 2012), http://nymag.com/fashion/11/fall/ jenna-lyons/.

9. Barrett, Caitlin. “True to Form: Why Brand Names are Getting Real.” Interbrand, n.d., http://caitlinabarrett. com/NamingTrends_CaitlinABarrett.pdf.

10. “The echo of cultural authenticity is in the origin of the name itself and its inflection of ethnic identity.”

From Peter Trifonas, Barthes and the Empire of Signs (Postmodern Encounters), (London: Icon Books, 1997), 7.

11. “A name has to have all of these deep associations built into it,” said John Colapinto during a New Yorker podcast, on the business of naming. He is the author of the New Yorker’s “What’s in a Brand Name?”

12. French Film Star Dress as described on the J.Peterman website: She gets off the plane pretending she doesn’t look beautiful. He pretends to be surprised that she is.

She pretends to be surprised that he is surprised.

13. According to J.Crew, the Jackie cardigan is “Our own style icon — wear it alone or pair it with the matching shell as a classic twinset.”

14. “Value, therefore, does not stalk about with a label describing what it is. It is value, rather, that converts every product into a social hieroglyphic. Later on, we try to decipher the hieroglyphic, to get behind the secret of our own social products; for to stamp an object of utility as a value, is just as much a social product as language.”

From Karl Marx, “Fetishism of the Commodity and the Secret Thereof,” in Capital: A New Abridgement, ed. David McLellan (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995), 45.

It’s a Nice Day for a White Wedding 1. Bee-Shyuan Chang, “All Dressed in Black,” New York Times, October 24, 2011 (Accessed May 2, 2012), http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/27/fashion/blackwedding-gowns-from-the-runway-to-the aisle.html?_ r=1&scp=11&sq=%22wedding%20dress%22&st=cse.

2. Deborah Arthurs, “And the Bride Wore…Black!

Could Somber Wedding Dresses From Vera Wang Mark a Turning Tide for Bridal Trends?” Daily Mail, October 18, 2011 (Accessed May 2, 2012), http://www. dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2050047/Vera-Wangsblack-wedding-dresses-mark-turning-tide-bridal-trends. html?ito=feeds-newsxml.

3. “Historical Wedding Dresses.” Glenview Historical Society. 1121 Waukegan Road, Glenview, IL 60025.

November 20, 2011.

4. Susanne Friese, “The Wedding Dress: From Use Value to Sacred Object,” The Berg Fashion Library (2001), http:// www.bergfashionlibrary.com.libproxy.newschool.edu/ view/THRWARD/chapter-THRWARD0008.xml.

5. Annette Lynch, “Dress for Rites of Passage,” The Berg Fashion Library (2011), http://www.bergfashionlibrary. com.libproxy.newschool.edu/view/bewdf/BEWDF v3/EDch3034.xml.

6. Ibid.

7. Joanne B. Eicher, Joanne Entwistle, and Elizabeth Wilson, “Dress, Gender and the Public Display of Skin,” The Berg Fashion Library (2001), http://www. bergfashionlibrary.com.libproxy.newschool.edu/view/ BODRESS/chapter-BODRESS0018.xml.

8. Amy Larocca, “The Bride Wore Blue,” Harper’s Bazaar (May 14, 2009).

9. Bee-Shyuan Chang, 2011.

10. Laura Brown, “Why Don’t You? Sarah Jessica Parker,” Harper’s Bazaar (February 4, 2009), http:// www.harpersbazaar.com/magazine/cover/sarahjessica-parker-cover-story-0309-5.

Glam Metal 1. Robert Walser, Running with the Devil: power, gender, and madness in heavy metal music (Hanover: University Press of New England, 1993).

2. Pin-ups began to appear in the early 20th century alongside other venues for the public display of

77 >>

feminine sexuality, such as burlesque performances and Hollywood films, before evolving into the classic Varga girls of the World War II era and the bombshell gatefold images that came with the introduction of Playboy in 1953. For a much more complete treatment of the female pin-up, see Maria Elena Buszek’s Pin-up Grrrls: Feminism, Sexuality, Popular Culture (2006).

3. Hot Metal Centerfolds, November 1990, 47.

4. Superstar Special Poison Color Spectacular (October 1990), 61.

5. Walser, 110.

6. Ibid., 134.

7. Metal Edge ( January 1987), 20.

Your Body is a Temple 1.Worthy members of the church, above the age of 18, undergo an Endowment through the temple that prepares them to become kings and queens in the afterlife. Through this sacred ritual, Mormon members receive “all those ordinances in the house of the Lord, which are necessary…to walk back to the presence of the Father.” See Brigham Young, Discourses of Brigham Young, ed. John A. Widtsoe (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1954), 416.

2. The Quorum of the Seventy is a group of the church’s authorities that are collectively known as “general authorities,” which are comprised of the Frist Presidency, Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, and the Quorum of the Seventy. The First Presidency consists of the prophet and his two counselors. These divisions are comprised entirely of men, none of whom are trained for these positions, in other words the LDS Church has no professional clergy. See Carlos E. Asay, The Temple Garment: ‘An Outward Expression of an Inward Commitment (Las Vegas: Ensign, 1997).

3. Asay 1997.

4. Ibid.

5. Ibid.

78 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

6. Ibid.

7. Ginger, interview by author, Sandy, Utah, March 1, 2012.

8. Ibid.

9. Ibid.

10. Ibid.

11. Douglas Davies, “Gestus Manifests Habitus: Dress and the Mormon,” Dressed to Impress: Looking the Part, ed.

William F. Keenan (Oxford: Berg, 2001), 123-138.

12. BYU, Brigham Young University, is a LDS-owned university in Provo, Utah.

13. Betty, interview by author, Provo, Utah, March 1, 2012.

14. Matthew Bowman, “Why is it So Hard to Figure Out What Mormons Believe?” April 4, 2012, blog post (Accessed April 4, 2012), http://www.patheos.com/ blogs/peculiarpeople/2012/04/why-is-it-so-hard-tofigure-out-what-mormons-believe/.

15. Ibid.

on the cover w

ith a fifty-dollar wedding dress, a camera, a loaded question and a hand to be held, New York-based Mexican photographer and visual artist María Sprowls situates her work in re-signifying social and cultural conventions. Interjecting her own concept of femininity into urban landscapes and portraitures, Sprowls’ project I Do decontextualizes the uniform nature of the wedding gown, leaving a memento for each man whom accepts her hand in performative matrimony. I Do obfuscates our perception of the wedding gown, mass-producing the promises we infuse into the garment, and, more importantly, reinforces agency, as Sprowls asserts she belongs to neither the man nor the dress.

79 >>

contributors Forest Bell is currently working on his Ph.D. in Art Education at the University of North Texas focusing on the educational process of the modern tattoo artist. He received his Master of Science in Fashion Design from Drexel University and earned his Bachelors of Fine Arts degree from the Corcoran College of Art and Design. Bell’s work has been exhibited at the Corcoran Museum of Art and also featured in runway shows in New York, Philadelphia, Montreal, and Austin.

Lucia Cuba

is a Peruvian fashion designer working and studying in the Fashion Design and Society MFA program at Parsons. Cuba holds degrees in Psychology and Public Health, a perspective which she brings to her socially conscious design projects. She has exhibited her work and received multiple design awards both in her native Lima and internationally.

Lauren Downing received her Master of

Arts in Fashion Studies from Parsons The New School for Design. She previously studied at Washington University where she studied art history and anthropology. Her article “Fat Fashion: Addressing and (Un)Dressing the Plus-Size Model” was published in The City University of New York’s FRAME Journal. She currently works in the costume collection at the Musem of the City of New York.

Maria Echeverri is a graduate of the University of Virginia, where she earned a bachelor’s degree in the History of Art. She currently works in New York City as an assistant to designer Adam Selman, and has just completed a Masters degree in Visual Culture and Costume Studies at New York University.

Carly Ellis is a designer, originally from the UK, in the MFA Fashion Design and Society program at Parsons The New School for Design. Her designs have been worn by numerous music and dance artists and her work has been featured in Upstyler Magazine, SuperSuper Magazine, and in Candy Boutique Japan.

Keremi Gawede

came from London to New York University’s Costume Studies program after a career in fashion public relations. Gawade previously studied modern languages at the University of Bristol.

She has also worked in the fashion design collection of the Phoenix Art Museum.

Sarah Handelman is a writer, curator, and designer based in London. She recently completed her Master’s in Design Writing Criticism at the London College of Communication. She is the creative director of BodyTalk, a zine on health and sexuality. Sarah also founded, edits, and art directs Not French Cooking, a zine and blog that investigates social issues surrounding food.

80 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1

Nami Kim received her Master of

Arts in Fashion Studies at Parsons The New School for Design and a Bachelor of Arts from Emory University in Economics and Art History. Kim has worked for Harper’s Bazaar, and design labels Rebecca Minkoff and Gucci.

Rachel Kinnard is currently a Master of Arts student in Fashion Studies at Parsons The New School for Design. She obtained a Bachelor of Arts in Fashion Design from the same institution and went on to work with designers Isabel Toledo and Gerlan Marcel. Kinnard also managed the production of the recently published BurdaStyle Sewing Handbook.

Anya Kurennaya completed the Master of Arts Fashion Studies program at Parsons The New School for Design. She previously studied linguistics and foreign languages at the University of New Mexico and McGill University. Her article “Wearable Technology: Design at the Seams” was published in Re:D, the alumni magazine of Parsons.

Molly Rottman is a current graduate student in the Fashion Studies program at Parsons The New School for Design. Her prior degree, from Grinnell College, is in Anthropology and Sexuality Studies. Rottman is currently working on the curatorial team at the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center.

Laura Snelgrove

obtained her Master of Arts degree in Fashion Studies at Parsons The New School for Design, and her Bachelor of Arts in Cultural Studies at McGill University. She currently works in the costume collection at the Museum of The City of New York.

María Sprowls is a Mexican visual artist and photographer whose work revolves around the idea of misplaced beauty, brief encounters with elements, and urban portraiture. Cervantes is currently based in New York and a candidate for a Master of Fine Arts in Photography and Related Media at Parsons The New School for Design.

Elisa van Joolen is a designer in the MFA Fashion Design and Society program at Parsons The New School for Design. Her work is presented simultaneously in art and fashion related environments, such as the Arnhem Fashion Biennial, Amsterdam International Fashion Week, Zendai Museum of Modern Art Shanghai and Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam.

Elizabeth Way is a graduate student at NYU in Costume Studies. She earned undergraduate degrees in Apparel Design and History at the University of Delaware and a post-graduate certificate in Innovative Pattern Cutting from Central Saint Martins. She has previously worked in the fashion industry and in theater costuming.

81 >>

fashion studies is the body made visible.

82 FASHION STUDIES JOURNAL 1.1