Here reside the musings and vagaries of a fashionista drifter, literary fangirl, and Harajuku wannabe. Enter at your own peril.
Wednesday, 25 January 2012
Send in the Frills: Outfit Post
Ooh, first outfit post of the blog! The thought of it it making me more than a little bit jittery, especially since I haven't worn Gothic Lolita -- a fashion subculture originating in Harajuku, Japan, and based on Rococo and Victorian-era children's clothing -- for year. After that particular little twelve-month hiatus, during which I smartened up my act, I'm back with it; albeit an offbrand version to assuage my cheapskate personality. These were taken on a meet-up with some of my friends in Birmingham for the weekend. I originally was wearing the rose on my jacket up in my hair, but it was so windy it was at risk of being tugged out and lost forever. Also, don't wear heels that high for the first time when you're doing so much walking. Despite your willpower, you will break and switch to Victorian-style brogues with mercifully flat soles after about three and a half hours max.
Rose Frill Jumperskirt (JSK): Gothic Lolita Punk.
Blouse: eBay.
Petticoat (which you can see peeping out a bit in the second picture, damn): commissioned by rinrinhime on LiveJournal.
Shoes: Matalan.
Tights: Primark.
Jacket: Topshop, gift.
Rose decoration: H&M.
Current hair dye: Alpine Green -- Riche Directions.
Sunday, 15 January 2012
Happiness is the sublime moment when you step out of your corset at night.
(courtesy of weheartit.com; other images not mine)
Corsets; whalebone hourglass, metal rigidity, leather fetish. Intended to define and mould the human shape into a perfect silhouette that shifts slightly throughout years of old photographs: narrow waisted models elongate to encompass the entire frame in an 'S'-shape, typical of Edwardian-era suffragettes, worn beneath their purple and green sashes as they chained themselves to railings, to Queen Victoria, an era beforehand. Nowadays, they're bright silk and slithery ribbon and can be bought in cheap red satin at a chainstore lingerie shop, a mainstay of alternative fashions such as steampunk. But once upon a long ago time, it would have been beyond thought that a young woman such as myself would leave the house without its protective encasing squeezing my organs and accentuating my squashed-slim waist -- they were a symbol of femininity, and as such are an interesting footnote in fashion history. They were intensely necessary undergarments of any self respecting lady, after all -- and of some men.
Yes, male corsets were available -- and maternity corsets -- and electric-shock ones, too -- eccentric asides in fashion textbooks, hidden beneath stacks of glossy modern magazines.
A SHORT HISTORY
The earliest corsets, known generally as ‘payre of bodies’ or ‘stays’ were worn around the 1500s-1600s; one feature of them was that in flatterning the bust, they pushed the breasts up into prominent view. There are also records of cage-shaped iron contraptions, an ancestor of the modern corset. According to Wikipedia’s resources, ‘The primary purpose of 18th century stays was to raise and shape the breasts, tighten the midriff, support the back, improve posture to help a woman stand straight, with the shoulders down and back, and only slightly narrow the waist, creating a 'V' shaped upper torso over which the outer garment would be worn. However, 'jumps' of quilted linen were also worn instead of stays for informal situations. Jumps were only partially boned, did little for one's posture, but did add some support.’ But, of course, as an academic, I must frown sceptically at Wiki as being unreliable, yes? Around 1796, Josephine Bonaparte made popular the high-waisted empire-style as a result of her pregnancy – think Austen-era flowing dresses, based on Greco-Roman styles in vogue at a time where no young man’s education was complete without a ‘Grand Tour of Europe’, probably including these classical ruins. Consequently, by 1800, the main purpose of the corset wasn’t to emphasise the waist, but rather, to provide support for the bosom.
Quickly, these became everyday wear for women, and they stayed very similar in style until about 1860. At this point, corsets were strictly undergarments.
TRADITIONAL CORSET
After the 1820s, high Victorian fashion became fashionable, and so the typical hourglass shape of corsets that we recognise today was developed. Lacing the corset as tightly as possible became popular, the corset ending several inches below the waist. Young ladies of repute often had their overworked maids cinch their corsets in so tightly that fainting was common – and so became seen as a sign of delicacy and femininity. Several medical journals at the time wrote articles on the subject, and doctors warned vociferously against this fashion madness – but the Victorians appear to have been great believers in ‘no pain without gain’ and so the lacing and lacing went on. This was the era when mass-producing became commonplace, thanks to that good ol’ Industrial Revolution, and so cheaper, mass-made corsets became available to the general public. Which of course meant more people started wearing them. In the 1890s, a general resistance to this began, in the form of rational dress movements – Oscar Wilde’s wife Constance was known to be a supporter, thanks to her husband’s aesthetical tastes, often being dressed by him for meetings (on one occasion she wore – gasp, stare, faint! – trousers. Smelling salts were called for immediately.)
PREGNANCY CORSETRY
To continue the madness however, fashion soon reached expectant mothers-to-be, and the first ‘yummy mummies’ ended up with these contraptions:
‘SPECIAL FEATURES’
You’ve got to love these: they’re what would happen if you threw Rocky Horror, Frankenstein’s electric life-giving machine and Victoriana into a fashion blender.
MALE CORSETRY
“The men who wear them are, in the first place, the fashionable young fellows around town, who are intent on being known for their handsome figures, and who do everything they can to increase the size of their shoulders and diminish the size of their waist. Outside of these the wearers of them are military men and stout men who find themselves growing too corpulent for gracefulness. Actors often wear them, and among the actors who are addicted to this sort of thing Kyrle Bellow and Herbert Kellsey [two popular actors of the time] are most frequently quoted. These men, it’s said, “secure corsets from a theatrical costumer instead of the fashionable furnishing-goods men on Broadway.”
The Daily Northwestern (Oshkosh, Wisconsin) May 10, 1890
So. Next time you whine about lacing up your fashion corset for that steampunk convention/night out/lingerie party, think of all the other sufferers who have gone before you, and either offer it up or take the damn thing off already!
Links of interest:
Wednesday, 11 January 2012
Do It Like a Dude
Attitudes to androgyny and cross-dressing in fashion – and beyond it
(March 2009 issue of Dazed and Confused.)
With the rise of feminism, women began to wear suits more commonly, formerly firmly in the domain of male attire. A number of shojo manga use the concept of cross-dressing in their storylines – often a female enrols as a male, scattering sexual confusion with male protagonists in her wake, such as in Hana-Kimi and the more satirical Ouran High School Host Club. Rarely do we see the opposite, and we can probably attribute this to the double-standards of cross-dressing society holds.
Links of interest:
Male Impersonators
Andrej Pejic's appearance in FHM's 100 Sexiest Women List
Models.com article on Andrej Pejic
Interview with the aforementioned model
Further information on D'Eon de Beaumont
(Originally posted at Culture Shock, moved to here.)
(March 2009 issue of Dazed and Confused.)
an·drog·y·nous [an-droj-uh-nuh
s]
–adjective
2. having both masculine and feminine characteristics.
4. neither clearly masculine nor clearly feminine in appearance.
cross-dress
[kraws-dres, kros-]
–verb (used without object)
- Definitions from dictionary.com.
The attraction of fashion is its supposed ability to define us. Your clothes send out their own message to the world, and that message is attributed to you: in this sense, it is believed that a pair of killer heels, for example, can - and will - inform and educate the world about the sort of person you truly are. With that assumption made, it’s a fair statement to make that fashion expresses our interior - perhaps even for those who don’t buy into it. Those who believe in the concept of anti-fashion are showing us their personalities through their rejection of labels, certainly, and it’s up to the viewer to interpret that. Of course, our clothing isn’t the only thing which displays us to the world, but people will readily make judgements dependent on what you’re wearing, even before they hear you speak. Our style defines us.
As a society, consequently we associate certain ideas with certain clothing. A well-cut suit is supposed to tell that you’re a clever city slicker, maybe. Your patterned playsuit it supposed to suggest you’re fun. Your brilliant red lipstick, supposed to imply you’re sexy. One of these connotations we, as a society, have is that particular items of clothing are assigned to be male or female. When you think about it, it’s ridiculous – clothes are cotton, silk, leather – inanimate material cannot have a gender. It’s our own thoughts that assume it to be so. Still, it’s very powerful, and often fashion has decided to catch our attention by traversing these boundaries, and people use this fashion in order to make a statement of self-expression. We give nicknames to these people and, depending on our own opinions, find these ‘gender-benders’ attractive, or not.
Even way back in history, we have those who broke these rules. In the 1700s, a French diplomat and spy named D’Eon de Beaumont lived half his life as man, half his life as a woman – using the costume of the time to express this change. (In fact, a betting pool was started on the London Stock Exchange as to the his true gender identity following rumours in the first half he was actually a woman – Beaumont declined to join.)
(From above; popular model Agyness Deyn, D'Eon de Beaumont)
In the well-known novel, The Well of Loneliness by trouser-donning Radclyffe Hall, the main character, Stephen, challenges the society of her times by dressing in men’s tailored garments. In the Victorian era, a number of ‘male impersonators’ like Vesta Tilley and later Ella Shields – women who dressed in coat and tails, giving performances under the guise of men, became the pin-ups of the music halls, becoming cause de celebre’s in their own right and earning the respect of both men and women for the wit of their unusual performances.
(From top left; Andrej Pejic, Madonna)
Even way back in history, we have those who broke these rules. In the 1700s, a French diplomat and spy named D’Eon de Beaumont lived half his life as man, half his life as a woman – using the costume of the time to express this change. (In fact, a betting pool was started on the London Stock Exchange as to the his true gender identity following rumours in the first half he was actually a woman – Beaumont declined to join.)
(From above; popular model Agyness Deyn, D'Eon de Beaumont)
In the well-known novel, The Well of Loneliness by trouser-donning Radclyffe Hall, the main character, Stephen, challenges the society of her times by dressing in men’s tailored garments. In the Victorian era, a number of ‘male impersonators’ like Vesta Tilley and later Ella Shields – women who dressed in coat and tails, giving performances under the guise of men, became the pin-ups of the music halls, becoming cause de celebre’s in their own right and earning the respect of both men and women for the wit of their unusual performances.
(From above; male model Paul Boche, male impersonator Vesta Tilley)
In the West, an androgynous woman is seen as fashion-conscious and attractive – examples include the model Agyness Deyn and the singer Janelle Monae. However, an effeminate, androgynous male - or a man who wears clothes we see as female for whatever reason - comes under attack, far more easily I believe. This is because it is seen as acceptable for women to be in touch with their masculine side, but men being in touch with their feminine side is not as accepted. Still, Bosnian-born model Andrej Pejic is number 98 in FHM’s 2011 edition of their 100 Sexiest Women in the World List – despite actually being a man. Although FHM’s early description – later rescinded and apologised for – about him being a ‘thing’ wasn’t the kindest, the media attention certainly hasn’t done his career any harm. He’s modelled for Jean Paul Gaultier and Marc Jacobs - the former wearing a full-blown wedding dress that sent press into a shark-like media frenzy - and is described as the ‘poster boy for fashion androgyny.’ His looks are definitely worth comment – I’ll be the first to admit, having discovered about him through an article in the Independent, I couldn’t help but gawk. Fashion is meant to make a statement – and Pejic absolutely does. Let's take a moment to reference Janelle Monae here too, who has a wardrobe I’d adore to ransack.
Although gender presentation and sexuality are not directly linked, we often assume they are, imagining a woman who dresses in assumed-men’s clothes is a lesbian, or a man who wears assumed-women’s clothes is gay. This can be the case but not always. What we need to understand that cross-dressing and androgyny is primarily about self-expression. The reasoning behind that self-expression may be a mixture of reasons, however complicated or otherwise, but first and foremost it is about self-expression – which, when well-executed, is generally beautiful.
Androgyny is often found attractive because it pushes our accepted boundaries and perhaps because it consequently makes us question ourselves and how we view things. We love the fun of things not necessarily being what they seem, and both androgyny and cross-dressing play into that. Androgyny and cross-dressing are separate things, but I have chosen to address them together in this article because they both challenge our social standards and expectations as such are interesting, if only for that.
As someone who does like to dress androgynously, I have my own reasons for doing so. Simply, I like the way it looks. Particularly, I enjoy the aesthetics of kodona, a branch of Japanese Lolita fashion, which is based on Victorian gentlemen’s clothing. I like wearing crisp shirts and colourful bow ties and tuxedo shorts. I don’t mind the curious stares – in fact, I kind of like them. For me, it’s another form of self-expression, and as such is perfectly acceptable.
We can’t perpetuate double standards; consequently, don’t espouse the fashionability of cross-dressing on the catwalk yet bawl someone out for it on the street. Cross-dressing is another form of self-expression, and to truly be stylish in life is to accept and encourage all forms of self-expression, even if you don’t necessarily agree with or understand them. Links of interest:
Male Impersonators
Andrej Pejic's appearance in FHM's 100 Sexiest Women List
Models.com article on Andrej Pejic
Interview with the aforementioned model
Further information on D'Eon de Beaumont
(Originally posted at Culture Shock, moved to here.)
Sunday, 8 January 2012
Begin at the beginning.
Sarah. Seventeen. Literary fanatic. Wildean aesthete. Adolescent quotes enthusiast. Victoriana freak. Corset-lover. Street fashion lurker.
Likes: radioactive hair dye, Disney, theatre, fairy tales, televised series about immortal gangsters/badass alchemists/angst-fest pretty boys/all of the above.
Can be found: eating candyfloss by the pier, in search of 221B Baker Street, dancing on a beach, curled up on a sofa with hot chocolate and the Internet.
Hi. Nice to meet you. Let's get started already.
(Old picture of self is old but still rather wonderful. Taken by Meg Kneafsey.)
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