Photo: Courtesy of Metropolitan Museum of Art
By 9:30 a.m. this morning, two women in full goth garb — one in a
black lace veil, the other in a top hat — were gamely posing for
tourists' photos on the steps of the Met. They were there, along with
more traditionally dressed reporters, to preview the Costume Institute's
latest exhibit, "Death Becomes Her," which opens tomorrow and focuses on mourning fashion from 1815 to 1915.
While the concept is subdued, the 30-odd looks are surprisingly
ornate up close — some gowns fall off the shoulder, as was the style of
the era, and come in rich textured moiré and
taffeta. These fabrics were, however, restricted to the later stages of
grief, as they were considered too showy for the recently bereaved. As
the 19th century wore on, mourning essentially became a cottage industry
— at the height of the period, fashion magazines like Harper's Bazaar advised
on the preferred styles, and, noted curator-in-charge Harold Koda,
mourning warehouses were a popular purveyor of clothing. Queen Victoria
and Queen Alexandra, whose dresses are highlighted in the show, also
helped shape the public's concept of bereavement chic, with Victoria
donning mourning clothing for the rest of her life after Prince Albert's
death.
The exhibit is simple and spare, befitting the subject matter, though
it's not without its flashes of dark humor. (Even the merch is on
point: a coffee-table book of medical illustrations and a book of morbid
poetry displayed under a bell jar.) One quote projected on the wall
comes from the 1867 etiquette manual Hints of Common Politeness:
"When we see ladies persist in wearing sable, we are reminded of the
reply a young widow made to her mother: 'Don't you see,' said she, 'it
saves me the expense of advertising for a husband.'" When I asked her
about the quip, assistant curator Jessica Regan explained, "This was
often how widows were portrayed in popular culture, as using their
mourning as something that was becoming and alluring." Koda broke in,
"That's really double-edged, in that it's a very sexist read, because
men were able to come out of mourning and they could remarry in a month.
It was really unseemly for a woman not to go through full mourning."
(Which, if you're keeping track, involved a year and a day of "full
mourning," an additional year of so-called "half-mourning," and another
six months of "ordinary mourning.") A series of comical etchings by
Charles Dana Gibson (creator of the Gibson Girl) displayed the second
room of the exhibition space depicts a young widow's adventures, which
end with her joining a nunnery. Widows, Koda points out, were "a
destabilizing force in pre–World War I society, because they're sexually
knowing, and they're out on the market."
Accessories, including elaborate black hats and parasols, have their
own corner of the exhibit, along with Victorian mourning jewelry, which
often incorporates the hair of the deceased. Looking at the styles on
display, the crossover with contemporary goth and gothic Lolita style
was obvious. When asked about the continuing appeal of this style of
dress, Koda became pensive. "I have a personal theory. I think we're a
generation where death is at such a remove, not for all of us, but the
young people who embrace it, there's a kind of ability to fantasize
about what death means." For fantasists of all stripes, the show will
not disappoint.
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