Hauter than thou

One last set of photos from the ElsaSchiaparelli exhibition at le musée des Arts décoratifs last November. These are from the post-Schiap era, designs by the guy running the place these days, Daniel Roseberry.

The thing that struck me was how in tune Roseberry is with the spirit of Schiaparelli. I mean, take a look:

They are every bit as fantastic—as in fantasy-like—as her creations. Things you might have a hard time wearing to the company Christmas do, but in which you just might be able to make it up the staircase at the Met Gala. If you walked very, very carefully.

Also: he designed the frock Lady Gaga wore at Joe Biden’s inauguration.

Props, man.

 

Plus de Schiap

There were too many things to share about the Elsa Schiaparelli exhibition at musée des Arts décoratifs in one post. So here are some more pix.

Specifically, some of her gloves:

And some of her jewelry:

A lot of Schiap’s fashions sported elaborate embroidery; she worked for a number of years with Albert Lesage, whose hand-embroidered business is still alive in Paris (and runs an embroidery school). Here are a couple of examples:

 

 

Not exactly lost

For a while, here in the People’s Republic, there was quite the epidemic of Left Bikes: two wheelers just abandoned in various places.

Naturally, I photographed them.

This was the one that fascinated me:

 

 

Haute couture

I was rudely interrupted by life in describing my trip to France last November. You may recall that my purpose was to see an exhibition of women war photographers at le musée de la Liberation de Paris. That was my main venture into culture vulturing.

Oh, yes—I hit museums and Roman ruins along the way in Provence, but the photos were my raison de voyager.

However, a couple of weeks before departure, I found out about another exhibition in Paris, at le musée des Arts Décoratifs: a retrospective on Elsa Schiaparelli. Well, I adore Schiap—her designs were out there long before the rest of haute couture thought about revving up for the Met Gala or Oscars night. She was part of the Surrealist movement, working with such luminaries as Man Ray, Jean Cocteau and Salvador Dalí; Schiaparelli mastered all elements of design—line, texture, fastenings, color, shoes, perfumes, jewelry. She “created” the color shocking pink, and “shocking” is a word frequently associated with her. Her career spanned the 20s through the 50s; her fashion business closed in 1954, although the House of Schiaparelli continued with her line of fragrances.

(Interestingly, the firm was acquired in 2007 by an Italian businessman, and in 2019, American designer Daniel Roseberry was appointed director. From what I saw in November, he’s exactly the right person to carry on the Schiaparelli ethos.)

So, here’s what I saw.

Schiaparelli started under the tutelage of Paul Poiret (whose fin de siècle fashions I also admire); here are some of his designs:

She specialized in knitwear, which incorporated a unique “double stitch” style popular with the Armenian refugees she employed.

I wonder what that “double stitch” thing was, and why it disappeared?

Here are some pieces from her collections in the 30s:

These are from her “butterfly” collection:

And her circus and commedia dell’arte years.

Now we’re getting into her Surrealist days. These are in collaboration with Jean Cocteau:

And Salvador Dalí.

One of their most famous pieces was this lobster dress; lobsters were for a while quite the Surrealist darling. (At one point the Duchess of Windsor modeled the dress for Cecil Beaton; this isn't that photo):

Oh, and this shoe hat:

This one isn’t as well known—his aphrodisiac vest:

Dalí also dabbled in speculative fashions:

The two also created this “tear” dress—with faux tears in the fabric and real, very careful ones in the veil.

Here's the quintessential Schiaparelli shocking pink:

I’ve got heaps more photos, but I think this is enough for one post. Stay tuned.