One thinks of Elsa Schiaparelli as a wit more than an artist. What pops to mind first are the shoe hat, the lobster gown, and the seed packet dress, creations that are more like one-liners than clothes. What becomes apparent when seeing her work up close, as it’s possible to at the Met’s new exhibit Impossible Conversations, is that she was, also, an impeccable seamstress. The dinner jackets are fitted and fastened with armor-like severity, and the floor-length gowns are draped asymmetrically, on the bias, with a sumptuous, casual mastery. Without wit – without any ideas at all – the finesse of Schiaparelli’s cutting and draping would assure her reputation.
The Met exhibit pairs Schiaparelli with another great Italian fashion designer, Miuccia Prada, and is framed as a series of dialogues between the two. Throughout the galleries there are video monitors showing the two great ladies chatting with one another in a special film by Baz Luhrmann. Prada portrays herself, admirably, and actress Judy Davis portrays Schiaparelli with campy excess. The fineness of the garments on display show up Davis’ portrayal. (They also, unhappily, show up most of the Prada garments.) On a mannequin encased in a full-height vitrine, Schiaparelli’s silk lipstick-printed gown looks less like a piece of clothing than a delicate, palpitating, creature. It’s as if it were born rather than made. All the cerebral references – to surrealism, to popular culture, to women’s roles – are rendered irrelevant. When it comes right down to it, Schiaparelli knew how to make a dress.