Some opportunities in life just beg to be taken advantage of. Such was the case when I knew that Dior: From Paris to the World would be at the Denver Museum of Art from November, 2108 until March, 2019. Denver is a four-hour plane trip from my home on the East Coast of the United States, but, really, that did not deter me. My husband said he would join me on this expedition, and the icing on the cake was the fact that our son and his girlfriend, who live in California, would rendezvous with us in Denver to have a long weekend together.
Tickets to the Exhibition needed to be purchased in advance, as the Museum had timed entrance to view it.
I had read numerous professional reviews of the Exhibit before arriving in Denver, so I knew that the displays of the clothing did not have captions on them. Instead, attendees each received a “little black book” in which were listed the numbered captions and a replica of the storyboards on display throughout the Exhibit.
I loved this method of captioning. It allowed the clothing to appear uncluttered, reading the captions was easier than trying to share a small space with lots of other exhibition goers, and the little black book makes a wonderful reference to pair with the photos I took. (The only confusing aspect was that many of the fashions on display were not in numerical order, so I had to pay close attention to the numbers on the platforms as I read my little black book.) In addition, the Museum provided each attendee with an audio device, for intermittent descriptions and historical context throughout the Exhibit. Most of the designated audio stops in the Exhibit had not only an adult version, but also a “kids” version, which I thought was a brilliant idea.
The Exhibit was huge, incredibly comprehensive, and beautifully presented. It is not only a retrospective of the Fashion House founded and “grounded” by Christian Dior, it is also a visual history of some of the most important influences on modern, post-war fashion. It reminds us in no uncertain terms of the importance of Christian Dior himself in shaping our current interest and fascination with the world of haute couture – and for those of us who sew – the world of couture dressmaking and sewing.
In this Part I of my review, I will limit myself to the Artistic Directors/Fashion Designers – and their body of work – who have led the House from its beginning in 1947 up until the current day.
It was exactly 72 years ago today, February 12, 1947, when Christian Dior presented his first collection. Although he named the two lines of his collection Corolle (Flower) and En8 (Figure 8), the editor of Harper’s Bazaar, Carmel Snow, immediately gave a new name to this ground-breaking style, calling it the “New Look,” a designation which endures today. Of course, the most recognizable of this New Look is the Bar suit.
Other dresses from the reign of Dior himself include the following:
Wool afternoon dress, Fall-Winter, 1948.
Wool suit with high windbreaker collar, Fall-Winter 1949. I find this a rather remarkable look for 1949.
Taffeta evening dress, Fall-Winter 1952. Dior was known for punctuating his shows with a vibrant red dress at the halfway point.
Satin dress with Chinese motif, Fall-Winter 1956.
Short brocaded silk evening dress, Fall-Winter 1957. This was so gorgeous!
Here is a side view of the same dress.
After Dior’s untimely death of a heart attack in 1957, the House was led by Yves Saint Laurent, who had been 19 when Christian Dior hired him as an assistant in 1955. Only 21 at this pivotal time for the fashion house, Saint Laurent boldly presented a departure in silhouette in his first collection in 1958. The Trapeze – or Triangle – collection was welcomed by fashionable women, and Saint Laurent was embraced as fashion’s new hero despite his young age.
Short evening dress with bobble fringe trim, Fall-Winter 1960.
Wool ensemble, Fall-Winter 1960. Notice the large pompom buttons.
This side view shows the size of the pompoms. This was really a fantastic look.
Short evening dress embellished with satin bows, part of Saint Laurent’s Trapeze line, Spring-Summer 1958.
By 1960, Saint Laurent veered again, presenting his “Beatnik” look, which was too radical at the time to be widely accepted. He left the House of Dior that year and was succeeded by Marc Bohan in 1961.
Bohan had the longest tenure as Creative Director for the House of Dior, leading the firm from 1961-1989. His first collection emphasized slim youthfulness, but with a classic nod to the founder of the House. Elegance, beautiful fabrics, embroidery, restrained but noteworthy color, and exacting fit were his hallmarks.
This image is from a looping video in the Bohan section of the Exhibit. Classic coats with coordinating dresses is what I think of during the 1960s, and Bohan was a master of such.
And here the models show the dresses beneath the coats.
Long printed faille evening dress, Fall-Winter 1971. The placement of the stripes is so well executed, leaving the top of the shoulders in black.
And here is Bohan’s sketch of a similar dress.
The supporting documentary materials in the Exhibit gave another layer of interest to it.
In 1989, the Italian designer Gianfranco Ferre became the Artistic Director of the House of Dior. After a rise in ready-to-wear in the world of fashion, Ferre was part of the revived interest in haute couture, and his designs are rich in color, ornamentation, and volume. He stayed at the House until 1996.
Wool ensemble, Fall-Winter 1989. Doesn’t this look like the 1980s?
Long embroidered quilted lame dress and taffeta coat, Fall-Winter 1992.
Long printed organza satin dress, Spring-Summer 1995. The fabric in this dress is absolutely exquisite.
Printed chiffon dress embroidered with grass stalks, Spring-Summer, 1996.
John Galliano took over the helm in 1997. Although still steeped in the precision and excellence of haute couture, Galliano became known for flamboyance, foreign influences in his designs, and his own rock-star status. And oops! I am lacking photos of examples of Galliano’s work. Never a fan, I read about every one of his works on display, but failed to concentrate on photos.
After the sometimes rocky tenure of Galliano, Raf Simons was a breath of fresh air. He became Artistic Director in 2012, and although known for his minimalism, he followed the heritage of the House of Dior. His designs showed a new romanticism, a love of color, and the influence of some of the world’s best modern art.
Three-quarter length duchess satin evening gown, Fall-Winter 2012.
Two-piece dress, Spring-Summer 2015.
And here is Simon’s notebook, detailing this dress.
Wool tuxedo jacket and wool cigarette pants, Fall-Winter 2012.
After Simons tenure ended in 2015, the House selected its first female Artistic Director. Maria Grazia Chiuri arrived in 2016. She is a great student of Christian Dior and her designs are freshly reminiscent of his. She features flowers, excellence in construction, with an occasional nod also to the modernist artists of the 20th century.
Wool crepe skirt suit, Fall-Winter 2017. More red – I love it.
Tulle ball gown, embroidered with poppies, Spring- Summer 2017.
Are you exhausted yet? There is still so much more to come, but that will be in Part II. And – I have some sewing that needs attention, too. Imagine that! To be continued, both the Exhibit and my sewing.
What Do You Think of Pockets?
Do you love pockets and add them to your sewn creations wherever you can? Would you be happy never to have to sew another pocket? Do you tolerate them in a garment, preferring to do without if possible? Many people have very strong opinions about pockets or the lack thereof. I think those of us who sew are among those with the strong opinions, primarily because we have it in our power to add them or delete them. My personal mantra on pockets is “Let’s see if we can do without them, unless we can’t.”
I generally divide my thoughts about pockets into three categories: those in dress pants (slacks), those in dresses and skirts, and those in dressier coats and jackets. (A little caveat is probably useful here before I get any further. Yes, jeans should have pockets, as should hiking and/or activewear pants and shorts. And absolutely, pockets are part of the functionality of active outdoor coats and jackets and vests. Those categories are not part of this discussion.)
It was over two decades ago when I first started thinking about the dilemma pockets in slacks present. I had just purchased a navy blue wool flannel, dressy pair of slim pants, which fit well and were flattering. There were two welt pockets on either side of the front which were basted closed, as is the custom in better clothes (leaving it up to the purchasing customer to remove the basting.) I left the basting in and preserved the slim silhouette of the slacks. Had I removed the basting, the front, I am sure, would have “pooched” out at those two spots and, well, not done my tummy any favors. Once I started buying vintage patterns a decade ago, I began to notice the slacks in the patterns from the 1950s generally were pocketless. (I have long thought fashion and style in the decade of the 1950s was at its zenith, both in elegance and in silhouette, which is a topic for another discussion.) Here a few examples of patterns from the 1950s:
In my mind, pockets in dress slacks are superfluous at best, detrimental at worst, and just unnecessary. Although I rarely make pants and slacks, I have yet to put a pocket in any of them.
Dresses and skirts are a bit more complicated. Fuller skirts often provide the perfect camouflage for in-seam pockets. I have sewn at least three such styles, the patterns for which included pockets in the side seams. Interestingly, two of them were vintage Diane von Furstenberg patterns from the 1970s; the other is a more recent Vogue shirt dress.
There was a charming article appearing this summer in a Weekend Edition of The Wall Street Journal by author Jasmine Guillory and her “perfect dress” which, alas, has pockets. (Check her website here to read the article under “About”.) Here is what she wrote, “The only element that mars this dress’s perfection is its pockets. This might be a controversial statement, but I don’t like dresses with pockets. They pooch at my hips, even when empty, and if you put something in them, it’s worse…. What’s this great need for dresses with pockets?” She goes on to say she regularly takes her dresses with pockets to the dry cleaner to have the pockets removed. (Alas, again! Her dry cleaner closed during the pandemic, meaning that her “perfect dress” still has its pockets, making it “almost perfect.”)
But what about slimmer silhouettes? In-seam pockets could cause the same “gapping” situation, which begs the question “Would you put anything in those pockets which would cause that pocket to gap even more? Probably not. I would place my hankie or my cell phone or lip stick in my handbag, not in my pocket – and that goes for fuller skirts as well. (Besides, like Jasmine Guillory, I am quite smitten with handbags.)
However, what about in-seam pockets which are part of the design? Here is a notable example:
And then, of course, applied pockets are often part of the design, but not really intended for practical use. Take a look at this evening gown:
You might be able to tell I have decided I am not so keen on pockets in skirts and dresses either – UNLESS they are integral to the design.
Which brings us to coats and jackets. I think one’s first reaction to this category would be “Well, of course, jackets and coats need to have pockets.” And for the most part, I would agree with that. Often pockets in coats and jackets are part of the design and add stylistic interest as well as functionality. Here are a few examples of coats I have made, with such pockets:
Here is a jacket pattern which is in my sewing queue for 2022. I absolutely love the pockets.
And where would a Classic French jacket be without its pockets? They are not really functional, but undeniably integral to the design.
Not all coats have pockets, however. Take a look at this Madame Gres design which I made in a lavender linen. It has no pockets, nor would I want them in this Spring coat.
And here is a “summer” coat which I think is just so chic. No pockets.
I have made this coat pattern twice – once with pockets and once without.
The wool version has in-seam pockets which I find useful:
But here is the same pattern, made as a “cocktail” coat. I made it pocketless and love it.
Clearly there is much to consider when it comes to pockets. When we add them to a garment, or delete them, or change their placement, or baste them shut to eliminate that dreadful “pooch” problem, we are admitting that not all pockets are equal. Some are perfect in every way, some not so much, and some – are never missed.
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Filed under Coats, Day dresses, Fashion commentary, Mid-Century style, pockets, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1950s, Vogue patterns
Tagged as 1950's Vogue patterns, fashion sewing, pockets, sewing, vintage fashion, vintage Vogue patterns, Wall Street Journal Fashion coverage