An exhibit at the Museum at
the Fashion Institute of Technology looks at society’s obsession with the body
through garments from the late 1700s to our time.
Angelica Frey
Stays, silk brocade
(1750–1760) (England, museum purchase, photo courtesy the Museum at FIT)
At the entrance of an
exhibit at the Museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) is a dress
entirely made of plastic tape measures. What might, at first glance, look like
a creative exercise is actually a work by artist Kate Chow, who intends to
highlight society’s obsession with clothing sizes and idealized body shapes.
And, in one form or another, this obsession has remained constant throughout
the 250 years of fashion history surveyed in the exhibition The Body: Fashion
and Physique.
Upon first glance, The
Body, which features 60 items from the museum’s permanent collection, might
seem like a condensed timeline of fashions, detailing the ideal silhouettes and
trends from the late 1700s to our time. However, as visually striking as the
selection of dresses might be — from a brick-pink brocade dress from the late
1800s that sports an 18-inch waist offset by a 31-inch bust, to an
emerald-green sculptural ballgown by Charles James — The Body is more than a
chronological display of pretty silks, laces, and sequins. Rather, the exhibit
stresses how, throughout the centuries, women in Western culture have been
forced, even physically constricted, into molding to bodily ideals.
The oldest item in the exhibit
is a “stay” (the predecessor of the corset), entirely made of silk and brocade,
from the 1760s. By the 1850s, corsets came with a metal busk down the center,
complete with hook and eye closures, which allowed the wearer to put it on on
her own. The exhibition also displays a disturbing corset from the second half
of the 19th century, which was designed to be worn underneath a maternity
dress. The constrictive corset had a last hurrah in the early 1900s, with the
so-called S-Bend models, which thrust the chest visibly forward to create an
illusion of a fuller bust.
But women’s bodies
thereafter were far from liberated. The 1930s saw the rise of “girdles”:
rubber-made contraptions that were designed to massage the flesh in order to
melt inches off. “You do nothing, take no drugs, eat all you wish, yet with
every move the marvelous Perfolastic girdle gently massages away the surplus
fat,” reads a peppy ad from 1934 taken from a US magazine.
In the 1960s undergarments
were ditched in favor of more revelatory dresses, which meant more dieting and
more exercising. The Body points to mini-dresses with transparent panels and
revelatory jumpsuits as examples; while these items didn’t allow for complex
undergarments, they were designed for a lithe figure.
Chromat, ensemble, spandex
and plastic boning (spring 2015, USA, museum purchase, photo courtesy the
Museum at FIT)
From 2010 onward, The Body
stresses body positivity and inclusiveness, though this angle isn’t entirely
convincing. While there are notable sections like wheelchair-friendly fashion,
the new “ideal” seems to be Kim Kardashian and her “naked dress.” A one-piece
bodysuit, designed by Becca McCharen’s label Chromat, features a plastic
contraption whose outer structure references the boning of a corset; however,
with wit and visual mastery, McCharen shaped the armor-like structure like a
curvaceous lower body. While it clearly celebrates a more shapely figure than
the one that has been in fashion until 10 years ago, it almost seems to imply
that women might want to wear external corsets that will make them look like
Kim Kardashian.
Martin Margiela, tunic (1997),
linen (Belgium, museum purchase, photo courtesy the Museum at FIT)
The Body does have a number
of garments by designers who, through a more conceptual approach to fashion,
question and reflect (with the right amount of irreverence) on the industry trends.
A 1997 tunic by Martin Margiela is meant to recreate the dress form; however,
in doing so, the Belgian designer emphasizes how artificial the idea of an
ideal body in fashion actually is. In the same year, the Comme-des-Garçons
designer Rei Kawakubo presented the collection “Dress Meets body, Body Meets
Dress,” where body-hugging pieces were deformed through the use of bulbous
paddings. In the case of the gingham dress featured in The Body, the padding
sits around the hipbone and on the opposite shoulder. “It’s our job to question
convention,” Kawakubo told Vogue in 1997. “If we don’t take risks, then who
will?”
While the fact that women’s
bodies have been constricted into fitting predetermined standards is not
exactly a revolutionary thesis, it’s worth seeing how fashion has played out in
a timeline-like manner, including all the ways sleeves, bustles, and lacework
have been used to achieve the illusion of a small waist. Indeed, despite the
exhibit’s obvious takeaway, visitors to The Body will nonetheless find
themselves amazed at the many ways fashion has tried to inch closer to bodily
ideals.
The Body: Fashion and
Physique continues at the Museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology (227
West 27th St, Chelsea, Manhattan) through May 5.
https://hyperallergic.com/421791/how-fashion-has-constricted-womens-bodies-over-250-years/?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Jan%2018%202018%20-%20Frank%20Lloyd%20Wright%20demolition&utm_content=Jan%2018%202018%20-%20Frank%20Lloyd%20Wright%20demolition+CID_dc1b9399f742285a71a2ff0ee37b53bd&utm_source=HyperallergicNewsletter
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