Lingering looks: Dior, dolls and drama on the runway
India, June 28 -- From little dolls to "corpses" floating down a river, tour 10 milestone events in the 125-year history of the fashion show.
In the beginning, it was dolls that showcased designs. From about the 1300s through the 1800s, the flare of a skirt, delicacy of stitching, trimmings of a veil or tilt of a hat were displayed by creating miniature versions and placing them on figurines nicknamed Pandora dolls, about 8 inches tall.
Everyone from Mary, Queen of Scots in the 1500s to France's Marie Antoinette in the 1700s used them for reference.
By the 1850s, the modern era had set in. Machines were chugging, trains were tooting. People were dreaming big.
One of these was Charles Frederick Worth (1825-1895), a teenager working at textile stores in London, who left for Paris at 21, and pioneered key elements of haute couture there. He set up House of Worth in 1858.
There, he replaced dolls with live models and held soirees where the wives of the wealthy elite could watch these models walk about in his new designs.
"He really understood the importance of showing clothing on a moving body," says fashion historian Kirsty Hassard, co-curator of an exhibition titled Catwalk at the V&A Dundee museum (on display until January).
Worth also sewed tags bearing his name into all the clothing he produced, pioneering the idea of a fashion label.
By the 1890s, a British designer named Lucy Duff-Gordon was training "professionals models" to perform a choreographed walk on a raised platform, amid elaborate sets, special lighting and live music. Her first such event was held in 1901 and is considered the birth of the fashion show. Here's why.
These events were only open to those who received an invitation. Guests were met with detailed programmes. In addition to potential clients, celebrities, magazine editors and aristocrats were invited too.
The catwalk caused such a sensation that it soon spilled out of the closed salons, into department stores, ballrooms, hotels.
From Wanamakers in Philadelphia to Selfridges in London, department stores began to host catwalk events too.
Before the adoption of the walk-in-a-straight-line-and-pose format, models often waltzed between diners at cafes, or sauntered in large circles.
We're now in the 1920s. The Great War has ended. Women who took to work amid the war are staying in the workplace, commuting.
In a dramatic reflection of this, the Parisian seamstress-turned-designer Coco Chanel uses a fabric generally used in men's sportswear - tweed - to launch a breath-taking new silhouette.
The Chanel tweed suit is sleek, chic, and made for easy movement. Launched in 1923, versions of it are still in production.
Fast-forward to the 1940s and a horrific second world war has finally ended. Two years later, Christian Dior unveils his first collection in Paris: suits, skirts, dresses, jackets with cinched waists, and a lavish use of fabric that underlined what had been so missed amid the war: luxury, femininity, fun.
It is a massive hit. Harper's Bazaar editor Carmel Snow exclaims, "Your dresses have such a new look!" And that is the name by which his first collection is still known.
By the 1960s, a generation has come of age that knows nothing of war. Theirs is a culture defined by exuberance, and cultural and social rebellion.
In a reflection of this, Mary Quant and her boutique Bazaar give the world miniskirts (as well as hotpants, and short tunic dresses worn over brightly coloured tights).
This is not a generation aspiring to get into closed rooms, for multiple fittings. So, in 1966, Yves Saint Laurent launches Rive Gauche, the first pret-a-porter or ready-to-wear line by a major couture house.
Winged bodices, ribbon tops
What else could fashion be? In 1999, Alexander McQueen's Spring/Summer collection featured fashion fused with machinery fused with art.
The British icon held his show at a warehouse. On display were winged bodices, fan skirts, ribbon tops, and belts, buckles and straps made from wood. The set resembled a stark factory floor. But it was the finale that took the crowd's breath away.
As model Shalom Harlow stood on a rotating platform, in a white dress, two industrial robots sprayed black and yellow paint onto her garment, taking it from canvas to art in real time.
"Walking" on water
In 2004, new concerns, new statements. Carol Christian Poell's Mainstream Downstream Spring/Summer collection uses a river to make a point.
On a quiet afternoon in Milan, 17 men begin to silently drift down the polluted Naviglio Grande canal. Eyes closed, bodies limp, they are carried forward on invisible inflatable rafts. They wear items from Poell's collection. More pieces from it float around them like debris.
"It was creepy yet poetic," says Livia Grigori, who runs the research project and Instagram page Atlas of Shows, with her partner Dan Ricciardi. "It was a haunting critique of consumerism, the endless cycle of fashion trends, and the industry's own wastefulness."
Trudging through snow
The Balenciaga Fall/Winter 2022 show by Demna (now creative director at Gucci), seated its audience around a glass-encased arena, while inside a blinding snowstorm raged. Models wore pre-wrinkled trench coats and carried oversized luxury trash bags, as they trudged through deep snow.
The show, Demna said, was meant to force the audience to reflect on the war being waged by Russia in Ukraine (which had then just begun) and on the larger themes of displacement and climate anxiety....
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