6 minute read
Culture In the Clothes
CULTURE IN THe CLOTHES
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- Diana Vreeland
WRITTEN BY EMMA BHATT PHOTOGRAPHED BY ANNA MARTHE
In a time when we have the world at our fngertips, the news in a perpetual stream, there lies a wistful desire to “keep politics out” of certain things, to allow for a few precious facets of life to remain untouched by the greater meaning which we imbue on most aspects of daily life. Maybe it would be nice if we just let clothes be clothes. Unfortunately, this is sort of impossible. We can’t stop fashion from being political; fashion has always been political. What we wear serves as a refection of the world around us.
Practical changes have certainly made their mark on the history of fashion, but fashion has also evolved as a more symbolic response to societal changes. At its core, what we wear matters because embedded in the what is always a larger why.
Take, for example, the impact of World War I on women’s fashion. The elaborate styles of pre-war garments were simplifed in an effort to preserve textiles, and the multiple outft changes of an upperclass woman were cut back. The need for women in the workplace also led to changes for working-class
women, allowing for the transition from skirts to pants for women who labored in factories. The national spirit of sacrifce on behalf of the fghting overseas created a general shift in the American attitude toward fashion, ushering in an era which prioritized practicality. The end of the war created its own set of changes in Western fashion. The rise of the fapper girl, the icon of the ‘20s and a symbol of glitz and sexuality, was in many ways a response to the shifting culture. Women gained the vote, speakeasies combatted prohibition dryness—the world was changing
and Americans wanted to have fun.
As the fghting ceased and global communication increased, young people embraced a “life is short” perspective, rejecting the restriction of convention in favor of personal fulfllment.
Additionally, the consumerism which began to dominate both American and European life during this time inspired a sense of individual freedom, which was refected in the fashion of the decade.
As the decade ended in economic collapse, however, the fashy luxury which characterized the twenties
gave way to a new look. The Great Depression saw the introduction of many practical styles, such as dresses made from feed and four sacks. The dresses, made by rural mothers in a bout of resourceful ingenuity, were primarily worn by children.
In an effort to keep the garments fashionable, the dresses were often adorned with beads, buttons, and other embellishments, providing little ways to give poor, farm families a sense of agency over their style. However, the popularization of “the movie star” as a cultural icon allowed for a glimmer of extravagance to remain, keeping the
hopes of luxury alive in the hearts of the American public.
As the second world war dominated the beginning of the ‘40s, fashion was dominated by the air of war, too. The utilitarian style of the decade was partially based in necessity, due to the restriction of materials issued by the American War Protection Board. Still, the attitude of the nation was mirrored in such regulation; dressing down was a way to show good citizenship and to create a sense of national solidarity with the troops fghting abroad. Similarly to World War I, women’s role as laborers brought
the return of pants, particularly denim. However, the end of the war and a desire for return to normalcy encouraged women to give up the pants for a more “feminine” style.
Notably, what is considered “feminine” style has changed drastically throughout history. In science fction media, which became increasingly popular starting in the forties, miniskirts became associated with women of the future. Often paired with tall boots and metallic pieces, these skirts provided a visual representation of the way these space women, more equal to their male counterparts, differed from real-world women. Such looks became a reality, however, upon the popularization of the mini skirt in the ‘60s. Credited to British designer Mary Quant, the miniskirt symbolized a new sort of femininity, one characterized by sexual liberation. As the seventies arrived and the American consciousness
took a turn for the conservative, maxi skirts were introduced as an alternative, though skirt lengths were essentially deregulated by this time.
Still, the hippie fashion of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s showcased a different sort of freedom. Hippie distaste for rigidity was evident in the loose garments which were associated with the fashion. A rejection of capitalist ideology was evident in their mythological inspiration. Folklore inspired fashion refected hippie romanticization of different times, of an ancient and perhaps fantastical world into which they hoped to transform the modern one.
The popularization of hippieinspired fashion in the current day is perhaps indicative of a similar outlook. Crochet tops and patchwork pants represent the possibility for freedom from the over-consumption of late-stage
capitalism. If you can make your own clothes, or thrift them, or trade them with your friends, then maybe you can remove yourself from the environmentally and ethically corrupt fashion of the modern day. This seems to be the mentality of Generation Z as they begin to dominate the world of fashion, using style as a symbol of personal values rather than simply an unconscious refection of the society one exists in.
Such an analysis of fashion is not only interesting—it’s important to right the wrongs of the past. Fashion, which has often been written off as a topic of interest for shallow women, is communication, is culture, is power. If we view fashion as a form of art, then the clothes become the means through which the designer-as-artist engages with the culture—to embrace it, refute it, or transform it.
