Tailored Seduction

I had a bit of an epiphany this weekend. Not about the meaning of life or how to enjoy a recession or why we are all but grains of sand, etc., etc. This epiphany was more important than any of that, and much more life-changing. I had a sudden realization about the worth of tailoring.

A friend and I went to the museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology to see a show called “Gothic: Dark Glamour.” (Now closed, not very good, you didn’t miss much). The real eye-opener was the other show, “Seduction.” It’s pretty straightforward: seduction in fashion, 250 years of it.

My friend and I were looking at an amazing evening gown, a strapless, straight-skirted number from the 1950s. Steps away were the 1960s. I looked back at the 1950s. Then to the 60s. It occurred to me that, although I had always thought that 1950s fashion was completely revisionist and a step backwards in terms of women’s apparel and, by extension, feminism, these clothes were in a way more liberating than the fashions in the following decades.

Because the onus used to be on the clothes. But we’ve gone from wearing structured clothing to treating our bodies as if they are capable of the same tailoring. Plastic surgery, Botox, peels, treatments, exercise ad nauseum–our bodies cannot be taken in, darted, pleated and tucked so they become “perfect”, whatever that means. The perfect dress, however, can, and that is one of the reasons it’s perfect. The well-cut suit, or custom-made shirt, or tailored dress is perfect because it’s properly fitted which means it ought to both look good and be comfortable. It’s not a trade-off.

The fifties were the twilight of the girdle and accompanying restrictive undergarments. The fifties were also the twilight of a type of tailoring (the dresses in the show were, of course, couture–we should all be so lucky) that worked with the wearer’s body. Cut and tailoring should complement and focus on the good aspects of the wearer’s figure, and hide the not-so-good. That’s what a talented designer should have in mind when designing clothes. The sixties and later were more about body-consciousness in the name of freedom and feminism, and tailoring went out the window. But when a dress is a simple shift–beautiful in its own right–there’s not enough there to hide anything. Or with hot pants or mini-skirts or long gowns slit down the front and up the side. Besides, true seduction is subtle, it's a hint, a whisper...not an anvil used to crush a peanut.

I think it would be a relief for many women to wear a properly made suit and not worry about how their arms or their thighs or their derrière look. To be comfortable wearing a smashing dress and feel the accompanying lift in self-confidence. To know that summer wouldn’t mean another liposuction surgery, but instead a trip to the dressmaker’s, which is quicker, easier, cheaper, and healthier.

(btw, Charm was a mag later folded in Glamour.)