In their smaller, ground-floor gallery FIT has mounted an exhibit of notable pieces from their own collection.  It opened with the title Great Designers but, after some controversy, was renamed, with less boldness and brevity, Fashion, A-Z: Highlights from the Collection of the Museum at FIT, Part One.  The garments are displayed alphabetically by designer name, so that the show kicks off with a crystal-studded white gown by Giorgio Armani, and ends with outfits by Gianni Versace, Vivienne Westwood and XULY.Bet.  In between there are pieces from all the usual suspects, including Fortuny, CocoChanel, Donna Karan and Alexander McQueen, as well as undersung heroes, like Lucien Lelong, and upstarts, like Gareth Pugh. Only John Galliano, riding out a scandal, is notably absent.

More than a comprehensive history of fashion, or a random sampling from FIT’s treasure trove, the show offers a convincing argument for the power of the dress.  Even the ladies pantsuits and jackets on display have a dress-like logic, emphasizing a unified, ladylike profile over the drama of contrasting pieces.  And all the pieces seem to emphasize the fall of fabric over a woman’s body rather than the architecture of the clothing itself.  (Although there is one remarkable exception, a green Charles James gown that seems to be standing up on its own.)  So Galliano is sorely missed.  Nothing would have centered the exhibit more than a bias-cut confection from this master of the fancy dress.  There was only one mens ensemble on display, an embellished, pimpish suit by Jean Paul Gaultier.  And that drew attention to another omission – the entire world of mens fashion.  Maybe FIT could have called this exhibit Dresses from the Collection at FIT and followed with another called Suits from the Collection at FIT.  They would have gone swiftly to the heart of both mens and womens fashion.

Sabina Speilrein was a famous early twentieth century analyst and analysand who was treated by both Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung, and who is rumored to have had an affair with Jung.  In A Dangerous Method she’s portrayed, probably incorrectly, as a romantic figure.  She’s played by Keira Knightley, who’s dressed in impossibly slim white maxi skirts and dresses.  In the first scenes, when Speilrein is a teenager being treated for hysteria at the sanatorium at Burgholzli, she wears a series of impeccable, gauzy, white ankle-length dresses.  They set off Knightley’s slender frame perfectly, and give off a whiff of pre-sexual Victorian innocence.

I’m spill-prone and can’t wear all-white; it simply won’t work.  But this movie turned me on to the possibilities of the full-length all-white dress.  It’s simple and dramatic, and so much fresher than the LBD.  The only caveat is to select one with an informal, body-conscious profile so that it doesn’t look like a nightdress or a wedding gown.  The fitted white Alexander McQueen dress Pippa Middleton wore at this summer’s royal wedding, with tiny buttons running all the way up her spine, was so winning because it didn’t look at all like a bridesmaid dress, which is basically what it was.  But the white dress of my dreams is the spectacularly simple one John Galliano designed for Givenchy haute couture in the fall of 1996.  It’s got an empire waist and puffed cap sleeves, and stays close to the body all the way down.  Both in print (above) and on the runway, the very ladylike dress was accessorized with a plumed gladiatrix helmet.  It’s a perfect pairing.