Return to Blythe House - The Concise Dictionary of Dress

Last week some of the F&T research group made the return journey back to Blythe House, this time to view the exhibition The Concise Dictionary of Dress, curated by Judith Clark and Adam Phillips in collaboration with Artangel. For anyone who has not yet seen this intriguing exhibit, I am almost rather loathe to reveal too many details, for fear of spoiling what is probably the 'must-see' fashion exhibition of the year.

To give an overall impression, rather being located in a glossy, purpose-built set, as many of Clark's past exhibitions have been, the exhibits were instead located within the working archives of the V&A Museum, located at Blythe House. Visitors are not allowed to wander at will through the vast rooms and winding corridors, which to some may come as a relief, such is the labyrinthine quality of the building. As a fellow visitor remarked, you certainly have the sense that something awful could happen to you, for instance, if you were accidentally locked in for the night. Instead, we were guided through the exhibits on a structured tour of the building, being with a journey in a large goods lift up to the fourth floor of the building. Beginning on the roof, we were led through a variety of rooms, travelling up and down winding staircases, eventually finding ourselves outside in the courtyard where the old coal-bunkers were located.

What struck me most about this exhibition, was less about the actual artefacts that we were directed to look at, than the play on the ambiance of the building itself. Atmospherics were very much an important part of the overall 'feeling' and experience of this exhibition for the visitor. Often, in exhibition design the 'comfortableness' of the exhibition experience is often forgotten, particularly if anyone who has had to endure the heaving crowds of a busy 'blockbuster' exhibition on an otherwise relaxed Sunday afternoon will appreciate. Yet in The Concise Dictionary of Dress the visitor was exposed to a contradiction in the experience of this exhibition. On the one hand we were offered the privilege of being allowed to explore a building normally closed to the general public, with the added 'luxury' of being attended to by a personal guide. Yet at the same time, in being (gently) forced to move around the building to view the next exhibit, there was little time to linger or savour the exhibits as you might in a 'normal' (and uncrowded) exhibition space.

Judith Clark and Adam Philips are to give a talk in a couple of weeks at LCF, where Clark is head of the MA course for Fashion Curation, so am intrigued to attend that to hear more about their motivation and intent for this exhibition.

Maid to Measure

One of the best things about being attached to an institution such as the RCA is the chance once again to make the most of an extensive library. While the college library is rather general, reflecting as it does the diverse range of courses hosted by the various schools, there are many 'hidden gems'. While my own practice is very much based in what is happening now in fashion, I am enjoying the opportunity to put into context my current research on the Fashion City. In particular, since the personalised stories of fashion practitioners are to be an important part of my continuing research, I am enjoying the chance to read over the biographies of the luminaries of fashions (not so distant) past.

One of most recent 'hidden gems' I've found in the RCA library is the amusingly titled Maid to Measure, the autobiography of Charles Creed, scion of the Creed family who ran a successful Parisian haute couture tailoring establishment. Actually the book was written by a 'ghost writer' based on conversations with Charles, who rather generously dedicates his book on an inside page with the words: ''This book is dedicated to my friend Elspeth Grant who wrote it''.


The early part of my research is into the workings of the 'fashion system', and the interest for me as a researcher in titles such as these are the insights into the structure and development of fashion in the early 20th Century. Far from being a weary and downtrodden fashion 'hand' Charles Creed seems to have lived a charmed life, spending his time mixing in the social whirl of Paris, Berlin, Vienna, New York and London, with diversions to Deauville or Biarritz, and flirtations (and more) with 'model girls'. Not one to hide his light under a bushel, he also mentions his own 'innovations', taking a 'pre-collection' to show to buyers in the USA before the haute couture showings, or having suits made with linings printed with the Creed logo. Even during World War II, as an (upper-middle class) conscript to the British Army, he appears to have treated his time amongst the horrors going on around him as just another big adventure. Despite this boastful blather, Creed does, however, give some intriguing insights into the realm of haute couture pre-World War II, including this description of of the excitement and thrill of attending a fashion show hosted by the charismatic Jean Patou.

The couturier most in the public eye at that time was Jean Patou, a strikingly elegant man who had a strong affinity with America, a wonderful flair for publicity – and a magnificent mansion in which to exploit it. He had rocked Paris to the core by importing American model girls, tall, willowy beauties, Ziegfeld follies, with exquisitely fine legs and ankles like racehorses. He preferred to show his collections at night and these presentations became one of the highlights of Paris social life.
Everybody who was anybody (and more people then than now) flocked to see not only Patou’s graceful clothes but more especially his fabulous model girls. His most decorative salon was so arranged that the girls made their entrance walking down a ramp – which showed off their beautiful limbs to great advantage, making the women green with envy and the men pop-eyed with admiration.

Creed and Grant, 1961, Maid to Measure, London: Jarrolds Publishers Ltd. pp 77-78

While the language of such titles as this may seem arcane today, they remain a useful resource, with intriguing insights into 'how things used to be done'. Although judging by the number of stamps on the loan page of this particular book, they are not often recollected as being useful or interesting. Knowing the pressures academic libraries have in obtaining materials on the latest and up-to-date knowledge it is a wonder they are able to earn and justify their places on the shelves. Yet I am both glad and appreciative that such titles remain in the library to be re-discovered and re-interpreted. Perhaps the V&A's popular re-productions of such titles as Barbara Hulanicki's A to Biba and Elsa Schiaparelli's Shocking Life are indicators that the personal experience in the form of biography remain an important resource and inspiration for fashion researchers.


A dashing looking Charles Creed aged 18 at Hotel Normandie, Deauville, 1937

Curating Design

Today I attended a cross-college seminar hosted by David Crowley from the Critical and Historical Studies Department on the subject of Design Exhibitions: What are they? And what might they be? The seminar consisted of a short presentation from several practitioners/curators in the field of design exhibitions including Claire Catterall of Somerset House, Daniel Charney an RCA tutor and curator at Aram Gallery, Nina Due of the Design Museum, and Gareth Willams, formally a curator at the V&A, and now a tutor at the RCA.

Each curator gave an insight into their own experiences and reflections on their approaches to curating design within the context of their own specialism and/or institution. Catterall gave perhaps the most personal perspective, reflecting on her experiences working in both formal institutional settings, such as the Design Museum and Somerset House, and also as a freelance curator, through her own set-up as part of Scarlet Projects. Due gave an interesting insight into the Design Museum’s current perspective of enhancing the visitor experience, where visitors are encouraged to engage and be inspired as much by the events the museum hosts as its static exhibitions. Charney, meanwhile, described his experiences of working in a not-for-profit curatorial space located within the confines of a commercial setting in the form of the Aram Gallery in the Aram shop in London’s Covent Garden. Finally Williams reflected on his experiences as a curator for both the permanent design and architecture collections at the V&A and also for temporary and topical exhibitions, such as the recent Telling Tales. Following on from this, a panel discussion was formed of each of the speakers, who were also joined by Mark Sladen, formally of the ICA, and moderated by Crowley.

My own interest in curating is as a research methodology, as in my own current project on Fashion Souvenirs, and while none of the speakers raised this, the seminar raised some intriguing points. One of key points made towards the end of the discussion was about the ‘ordinariness’ of design and design objects in everyday life. Yet by taking objects out of their intended context and placing them on a pedestal in a gallery space poses problems for curators who seek to engage in their audience in participating in design exhibitions, not merely as passive observers, but as active and fully absorbed participants. Many curators today are engaged not so much in putting on exhibitions per se, but ‘projects’, or perhaps ‘event making’ to create a dialogue and active awareness in exhibition visitors. This has particular implications for the curating of fashion and textiles, where the tactile nature of the objects on show is such an integral part. Yet for reasons of preservation and conservation touching in any form usually remains strictly forbidden. An interesting example where this can be circumnavigated comes in the form of the Centraal Museum’s recent retrospective on Alexander van Slobbe in Utrecht, where a whole room was set up as an atelier complete with sewing machines, cutting tables and an ironing board. In this space visitors were encouraged to make their own simple tunic-style dress supplied from a pattern of one of van Slobbe’s archetypal designs. While many UK museums such as the V&A and the FTM run practical workshops under supervision, it is difficult to imagine how any would locate such an apparent health and safety ‘risk’ directly in the gallery space itself.

Overall, this discussion was an insight into the diverse strands of curating design and the challenges and opportunities provoked by differing contexts in the curation of design objects. Design, taken generally as something commercial, has often had to fight its corner in being accepted into grand institutions. Yet, as was raised in this discussion, many design 'objects' are made specifically for exhibition, that is their 'usefulness' is not to be found in their practicality, but rather in the appreciation of their design as an end in itself. Yet, as I have found with my own curatorial project, Fashion Souvenirs, their remain many aspects of design that have yet to have their 'ordinariness' fully appraised or appreciated.

Souvenirs from Romania

As part of my continuing curatorial project into Fashion Souvenirs (visit www.fashion-souvenirs.com for more or click the link on the left) I have been asking various friends and relatives to collect anything interesting or typical of the places they visit. My youngest sister recently returned from a trip to Bucharest in Romania, where despite the countries recent entry to the EU and its intriguing history, it has yet to fully take off as a tourist destination. According to her observations the main thing seemed to be to take a visit to Transylvania, and Dracula's Castle, with many a gothic/dracula themed gift to be found. Overall, though, it was intriguing to hear there is a distinct dearth of souvenir shops or opportunities for souvenir hunters in general in Bucharest, which the examples my sister brought back probably attest to. The first is hand-woven book-mark in the Romanian colours, while the second a key-ring featuring landmarks from the open-air museum. Strangely, while abroad it is often the familiar, just as much as the exotic or strange that we seek out on our travels. My sister, for instance, cannot seem to get through the week without her Starbucks fix. Although it appears even that behemoth has already reached Bucharest, she was flummoxed as how to find a branch there, despite the evidence of seeing passers-by clutching Starbucks carrier bags. Instead, she found the local option to be just as satisfactory in stemming her desire for a cappuccino, which goes by the excellent name of Coffee Attack (here above are some souvenir sugar sachets). It is often intriguing to see how as native-English speaker, the global lingua franca is interpreted abroad, often to unintentional comical effect. In the case of the name Coffee Attack, they seem to have hit on an intriguing combination, implying how the need for a caffeine fix is also an attack both on the body (in an unhealthy sense) and on our desires (in a pleasurable sense).


Research is often a solitary occupation, yet in some instances it is necessary to seek the help of others in collating aspects of a research project. In seeking out such help, however, it poses interesting questions regarding how reliable others viewpoint or skills are in collating research. It sometimes also raises questions about ownership. In the case of the Fashion Souvenirs project many of my collaborators have been happy to help out, as a fun diversion to their main activity in visiting a place, and then it is up to me how I interpret or make use of the artefacts I bring back, so ultimately the decisions regarding the process and outcome of the research are down to me. Yet, as I now consider how it may be necessary to collaborate with others on my main research project here at the RCA, it brings about the continuing question of how 'wise' it is to collaborate with others on aspects of the research, and whether, ultimately, this is even strictly necessary. I am guessing only time will tell...

Quote of the Month

We will not be afraid to associate the arts with the most frivolous of fashions, since one ought to find Montesquieu and Racine alongside pom-poms and ribbons on a well-equipped toilet table.

Journal des Dames, 1761

Taken from Roche, Daniel, Trans. Jean Birrell, 1994, The Culture of Clothing: Dress and Fashion in the Ancien Régime, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press

Quote cited in Davis, Mary. E. Davis, 2006, Classic Chic: Music, Fashion and Modernism, Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California Press. pp 6

I came across this quote while (re)reading the introduction of Mary E. Davis's excellent book Classic Chic: Music, Fashion and Modernism, a thoroughly researched treatment of the connections between fashion and music and their relationship to the emergence of modernism in early 20th Century Paris. Davis traces the links between France's emerging fashion press and its links with contemporary avant-garde music and performance. Famous names such as La Gazette du Bon Ton, Erik Satie, Paul Poiret, Coco Chanel, Igor Stravinsky, Ballets Russes, Jean Cocteau, Vogue, Pablo Picasso and Baron Adolphe de Meyer all play their part in the analysis of the interplay between the the seemingly disparate areas of art, fashion and music.

What intrigued me about this quote, and the book overall, is the realisation that many of today's 'innovations' in the fashion industry were actually made in the early 20th Century, and have now only been re-invented on a grander. more luxurious scale. Fashion brands such as Prada, Trussardi, Cartier, Louis Vuitton and Chanel, who have all become patrons of the arts in one form or the other, setting up foundations, hosting exhibitions or collaborating on product designs with artists, are merely following on from Coco Chanel who helped bankroll Ballet Russes productions or Paul Poiret's own art gallery, Galerie Barbazanges, housed adjacent to his couture house on the avenue d'Antin. At the same time, this quote reinforces how high-end avant-garde fashion magazines have always been dependent, and continue to rely, on the inclusion of content from the complimentary fields of art, music, architecture and film to assist in solidifying and supporting the so-called frivolity of their fashion spreads. Yet, perhaps perversely, as fashion seeks to become intellectualized, these other areas of creative expression seek to become more playful, envying fashion's ability to merge, and thrive upon, the popular with the exclusive.

The Researcher as Entrepreneur

Today was scheduled a workshop/lecture organised by FuelRCA, the business practice advisory arm of the college, on the thrillingly titled subject of 'Setting Up a Company'. The lecture was given by four accountancy and/or tax experts from KPMG, and from a sartorial and aesthetic point of view, they certainly looked like representatives of an accountancy firm. It is almost strange how it remains possible to tell exactly what someone does just by the demeanour of their features and mode of dress. Or as a colleague I attended the lecture with pointed out, you can always tell who is researcher by the pointedly seriousness of their expression, and their 'please don't distract me' body language.

I was interested to attend this session as part of my own research work is connected to how and why designers in the fashion industry go about setting up their business. As we learnt in this session the UK retains its incredibly laissez-faire attitude to the establishment of a business enterprise. As the process was explained to us in so seemingly simplistic terms it's wonder why everyone is not an entrepreneur. While the technicalities may be simple, what was not explained was the reality of the fortitude and stamina required in setting up a business, whether as a sole-trader or as a partnership or limited company. It made we aware that as researchers, certainly in our department of Fashion and Textiles, the requirement of an entrepreneurial spirit is certainly an asset in the practice of research. As much as it is an opportunity to be able to pursue research on a specific and nuanced topic, it is also required of the researcher to create their own opportunities via avenues of research, meetings, writing articles, submitting conference papers, archives, libraries and chance conversations with fellow researchers or colleagues. My own background, and indeed my first degree, is in the area of business and management, and in developing my own skills as a researcher over the past few months it has certainly felt at times like I am in pursuit of learning how to manage a business. While their are a number of books and lectures on the subject of writing a thesis or surviving the trauma of your viva voce, each of our projects are ultimately so individual, that perhaps as researchers we are all, to a certain extent, entrepreneurs.

How useful the practical aspects of this session will be I have yet to determine, as I ruminate on the vague prospects and opportunities for life in both the current research and the post-research phases. But for anyone else contemplating the adventure of entrepreneurial endeavour here are some links that might prove a useful starting point:

www.companieshouse.gov.uk
www.hmrc.gov.uk
www.businesslink.gov.uk
www.bbaa.org.uk

Mind Maps

Each week, the research students from the School Fashion and Textiles try and get together to participate in a workshop or ‘reading group’ session. The role of researcher can be a lonely task, so these sessions are good way of re-connecting with each other, and to catch up with happenings both inside and outside the college. Since I have been nervously preparing for my first interim exam (I haven’t had such a formal assessment for at least six years, it has been surprising to remember how daunting exams can be), I was wondering if it was such a wise use of time to attend last week’s session, but as it turned out, fortunately I did. Hosted by Harriet Edwards, a researcher in the college, we participated in a workshop on drawing and ‘mind mapping’. The theme of the workshop was ‘’intuition’’, and after a brief introduction by Harriet we were all asked to help ourselves to paper and drawing materials and to make a sketch about our thoughts on the process of intuition in our work. The image above is my own attempt this, using a biro pen on grey paper. After 10/15 minutes we were each asked to stop and to show our drawings to the rest of the group and explain a little about them in turn. Following this we asked to do some writing on the same theme, and again read out our efforts, if we wanted to, or to talk more generally about our thoughts. With our agreement, the session was partly recorded and documented by Harriet to use in her own current research study.

In many ways this was a useful very workshop for all of us, taking us away from our normal everyday routine, and re-connecting us to the possibilities of different processes that can be used for research. In general I do not view my work as that of someone who is a ‘maker’ or ‘producer’ so it was interesting to be asked to express something through the act of drawing, as opposed to writing. And yet, going through my own notebooks I notice how many rough sketches and strange doodles are included, seemingly unconnected to the words, and yet the words wouldn’t be relevant without them. In working through the process of research, this workshop was also revealing to me in realising how much of what I do is connected or derived from ‘intuition’ or the ‘intuitive’. Often an idea or concept for a piece of work, whether written or practical, begins in a state of flux, and from that initial components of the core idea are composed. From this I’ll perhaps attempt to see how they fit together or can be ordered in some way, sometimes finding quite disparate things fit very well, while seemingly logical things do not fit in at all. After this; putting everything into some kind of concrete whole appears possible, but even after careful ordering and composition some things still do not quite fit, and so remain outside the work or concept. Yet sometimes those ‘discarded’ bits are the most interesting, and turn out not to be so useless after all, opening up the possibility for new ideas, concepts and projects.

Research on the Run...

The process of research can often be long and laborious, sifting through archives and libraries for that essential piece of key data, close-reading of worthy if rather dull books, analysing seemingly illogically organised reports...Sometimes, however, the research chances upon you instead, often in seemingly odd or random instances. In my current research of souvenir clothing and souvenir accessories I chanced upon this dress in the shop window of Joy boutique. The palm tree-print is certainly reminiscent of those Hawaiian shirts your dad might wear, but here elegantly adapted for this summer dress. Since it was a Sunday, the shop was closed (yes, even in 24-hour London shops do close sometimes!), so didn't have the chance to find out the brand/designer. So here begins my occasional series of Research on the Run...