“Fashion is made to become unfashionable.”
Coco Chanel
I have been informed, politely and
otherwise, that I am unqualified to discuss fashion. It is true that when the
words ‘fashion’ and ‘photography’ appear next to one another a yawn needs
stifling. It is the least interesting genre, one reason being that it is so
pervasive. It is one thing to encounter fashion photography in the cosmetics
department at the local pharmacy, another when it turns up in hardware stores,
as though using this power drill will bestow some kind of glamour upon us.
Also, the genre has run out of ideas. People speak of a golden age of fashion
photography that lasted from 1920 to the 1950s, which was a long time ago now.
This ‘golden age’ began with technological
processes that made it possible to reproduce photographs to a high standard in
magazines. Previously they had to rely on line drawings. It coincided with the
rise of Parisian fashion houses such as Chanel, the diffusion of modernist
principles in photography and suffrage for women, which shifted the balance of
power so they were not just portrayed as elegant but having authority as well.
But if we look to the years immediately before, we discover that the most
important medium for transmitting the latest ideas about fashion was the common
postcard.
What made the postcard special was that it
was cheap, intended to be sent, and also collected. Typical messages on the
backs of these postcards from the first two decades of the twentieth century
are: “What do you think of this?” (meaning the costume) or: “Here’s another for
you”, meaning the recipient – inevitably a young woman - collected fashion
postcards. With the popularity of postcards, studios were pumping them out so
someone in Paris could send a postcard to someone in London, who got that
season’s fashion tips hot off the press. If her mother was relying on Tatler for fashion advice, she might
have to wait weeks for what her daughter received in a few days.
Another advantage postcards had over
magazines was that they could be hand-coloured. Fashion advice from the era
places a lot of emphasis on colour; gowns and robes are not merely green but
chartreuse; burgundy is in; vermilion is out. Japan had been a source of
inspiration for European designers since at least the 1880s. Japan meant
delicate, which itself meant pastel shades rather than bold colours. When
Hermann Kiesel’s studio photographed this model, it most likely received
specific instructions on what shades of ink to use.
Despite the postcard publishers promoting
fashion, labels are rare to non-existent on the postcards, suggesting that the
designer didn’t matter. We know that in the 1910s the fashion house was still
emerging as a distinct force but another explanation for the absence is that
the outfits on postcards weren’t strictly haute couture but copies. Department
stores in New York imported fashion items from Paris but they also copied the
designs. If a broad-brimmed hat complete with ostrich feathers and silk bands
direct from Paris cost too much for anyone but the wealthy, most middle class
women could afford an accurate replica. Also, the market for the postcards belonged
to young, unmarried women. We know that because on the back the cards are
usually addressed to Miss or Mlle Someone. Actual haute couture was out of
their reach financially, and also maturity-wise, since that was supposed to
arrive with the debutante ball, or if they couldn’t afford that, marriage.
Which brings us to that borderline between
fashion and erotica. The frontier has always been vaguely marked out, given
that one is often an intrinsic element of the other, and there are postcards
that make us wonder whether the real attraction was the fashion or the impertinence,
but young women were supposed to have thresholds. They might have gone for the
flapper look, with the cloche hat and the woollen outfit. Showing the
suspenders however was perhaps too indecorous. The risk of sending a postcard
like this to a friend is that the parents could find it, so casting her in
their eyes as an immoral vixen. It isn’t the evidence of the suspenders that
would have necessarily caused offence but the woman’s posture. In fashion, a
woman’s expression could be sultry, provocative or downright lubricious but her
physical pose was always supposed to be demure.
In 1931 Jeanne Jullia of France won the
Miss Europe beauty contest. Some time later it was discovered that in the 1920s
she had posed nude for Julian Mandel, the infamous and mysterious producer of
erotic postcards. The revelations created a minor scandal but they were handled
with more savoir-faire than they would be today. She was not stripped of her
title, bundled off to rehab or made to grovel before the press, probably
because a sullied past was nothing to get excited about in 1930s France;
everybody had one. As with the designers, the women who appeared in these
fashion postcards were unnamed but look at enough postcards and certain faces
become familiar. Usually they were actresses or singers without the status to
warrant a caption. Although some women worked as professional models the job
was so poorly paid it was something they’d do on the side. Like acting, it was
still a disreputable occupation for a woman but at least in the theatre she
could redeem herself by becoming a star.
This card was sent to Mlle Sarah Parent at
1197 St Catherine St Montreal on April 25 1907 and asks if she can still come
to the theatre that evening. (Mail was commonly delivered three times a day
back then, which is why you can find postcards mailed from Brighton to London
arranging to meet that afternoon.) A Sarah Parent turns us in the Quebec
records as born in 1893. If this is the same Sarah, she fits the profile. At
fourteen she would be going to the theatre with friends and have an interest in
fashion. Notice that the girl in the photo is only a few years older, about
eighteen; in other words, a suitable role model. This was sent at the height of
the fashion postcard era. That ended with the First World War. It wasn’t so
much that the war created a break in the culture but that the customers grew
up. Post war, Sarah Parent would be twenty five, possibly married and if she were
still interested in fashion she would be turning to the magazines that were
aimed at older women. Like the extravagant Edwardian hats, fashion postcards
belonged to the past.
THIS IS THE MODERN WORLD |
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