How do you see yourself as an American woman? Sporty? Bohemian? Broad-shouldered workhorse or slinky screen goddess? The new Costume Institute exhibit at NYC's Metropolitan Museum of Art — American Woman: Fashioning a National Identity — which opens to the public today and runs through August 15, defines the eras through fashion and how women shaped them, or were shaped by them.
Think an 1890s Gibson Girl has nothing to do with you? The big shoulders allowed her to have a more outdoor life: playing tennis, horseback riding, skating — the ermine jacket is the covetous item here. For bicycling, bifurcated skirts (forerunner to pants) allowed her to ride — gasp! — astride. Same for (at least some of) the riding costumes; others still required a sidesaddle seat.
Seems like shoulders get larger in women's fashion when we're about to take on a more prominent role — think the 1940s working women during the war, and the 1980s when women made a move into the boardroom. (BTW, shoulder pads are back this year.)
The dresses in the Heiress room are sumptuous Cinderella fantasies. Even though the bent was toward being European, the Puritan ethic at the heart of much of American culture prevailed: dresses brought over from Paris were not allowed to be worn for a year! If the ice-blue silk with butterfly appliqués was mine, I'd want to wear it right away.
The Bohemian room with its exotic Middle Eastern accents, outlines where artsy women indelicately abandoned the corset for a more free-flowing lifestyle (1960s bra-burning, anyone?). The shoe cabinet might make Imelda Marcos salivate. Certainly it would shoe aficionado Sarah Jessica Parker, who mellifluously narrates each room on an audio tour.
Curved screens of black-and-white footage of women in the 1910s caused one observer to remark, "looks like they're working their asses off." What with being allowed to enlist for the first time, in WWI, and working to bring a 71-year struggle for voting rights to a successful conclusion — they were. One tidbit I loved learning: "Suffragettes didn't sacrifice fashion for politics," Parker intones. They were proud to be women and stressed their femininity in their insistence on equality.
Truthfully, I didn't want to leave the Flapper room. The post-war expression of relief, joy and reckless abandon is certainly intoxicating, but the dresses in their intricate beaded beauty also reflect, to me, a deeper metaphor — the strength of the steel beads on flimsy and floating chiffon…
The show culminates in the Screen Siren room — fitting because of the enduring impact the American film industry has had on the perception of women. Familiar faces flicker across the interspersed screens — Jean Harlow, Greta Garbo, Lena Horne — surrounded by wrapped, draped and resplendent dresses that suggest Greek goddesses.
There is much more to this show than meets the eye, and it's an eyeful. When seen from an historical perspective, fashion's impact goes much deeper than simple fabric. I have to echo Oprah here, go see it if you can.
*Many of these pieces are from the collection at the Brooklyn Museum; their exhibit — American High Style: Fashioning a National Collection — from May 7 to August 1, 2010, is next!