DRESSINGS
A show of dresses at FIT, Paris Refashioned: 1957-1968, illustrates the shift in that city from couture craftmanship to mass market trends. It also, powerfully, illustrates the lasting iconic power of the shift dress. Virtually all of the garments on display are a variation of this simple profile: beaded with pearls at the yoke, draped with ostrich features at the skirt, assembled with princess seams, edged with ruffles, layered over a poorboy sweater, paired under a matching bolero, crafted in boucle, cut from vinyl, covered in a sea of shimmering plastic palettes.
The exhibit, mounted handsomely in the large basement gallery, allows about fifty dresses to be appraised all at once, like a crowd of savvy young women setting out for a party, or a protest. Yet each garments is entirely different from the next, its own species, with its own texture, ornaments, and piecing. While the dresses here are all small sizes, they offer a silhouette that’s flattering for women of all ages, sizes and shapes. Their tailoring is relatively simple, making it easy for home sewers and high street brands to mimic high fashion looks And, because they aren’t customarily worn by men, they make an indelibly feminine garment. (Though this dress’ use as the international symbol for women on restroom doors is, right now, becoming obsolete.)
Like the pitched roof of a single family house or the egg-swell of the Edison lightbulb, the profile of the A-line dress seems resistant to technological and sartorial change. Trends in athleisure and high-performance fabrics hint at a future of uni-gender (or nongendered) head-to-toe bodystockings. But the shift dress remains vital. The west has no signature female costume – no caftan, kimono, or sari – and this garment, more than any other, fits the bill.
Pierre Cardin, “Cosmos” dress, 1967, gift of Lauren Bacall. Photo courtesy of FIT.