Not exactly. The old saying “history repeats itself” can be applied to fashion without fail.  Save for those unexplainable and unsettling fads (i.e. jelly shoes and acid wash denim), nearly everything in fashion can be traced to a previous trend or inspiration.  The long-sleeved mini dresses on the Azarro and Jil Sander runways? Direct 60s references. Prada looked back to the 50s with knee-length skirts and feminine hues. On countless runways, polka dots – one of the most classic prints – were given a fresh, modern spin.

While none of this is “new,” we’re definitely seeing it in a new way.

Luckily, fashionphiles like me have an advantage when it comes to tracing trends: the IMA’s very own Material World exhibition.  From crystal-encrusted Dior gowns to ornate Cambodian pieces, Material World is chock full of the clothes that started it all. Seeing the exquisite craftsmanship, rich colors, and tiny details up close means spotting fashion influences is both easy and fascinating. In particular, a feathered Chanel cape, a Tibetan regalia, Chinese imperial robe, and a two-piece Chanel suit stood out to me, and to demonstrate their timeless appeal, I compared them to Fall/Winter 2011 runways:

CHANEL FEATHERED CAPE, 1925

VALENTINO, DSQUARED, & GUCCI, FALL 2011

The 1920s was an age of excess and luxury, exuberance and joy.  This feathered, camel-colored Chanel cape exhibits all of these sentiments, with the addition of Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel’s exquisite tailoring and craftsmanship, of course. Wearing feather-adorned clothing was both an exotic new design idea and a shameless display of wealth for upper class Americans of the Roaring Twenties.  Naturally Chanel, the premiere couturier, was among the first to turn out magnificently feathered pieces.  The dense application of feathers gives the cape a soft, plush feel, yet true to form, Chanel kept the colors natural and the shape sleek and simple. Nothing too gaudy or over-the-top for the original minimalist.

Today, we’re seeing modern interpretations of the feathered trend – and not just feathered pieces, but opulent fur pieces as well.  But modern styling and shapes make all the difference in the world; take the Valentino feathered jacket, for example: ultra-naturalized feathers on a 60s-inspired swing coat, complete with cropped sleeves and a rounded collar. The juxtaposition makes an impact far greater than the original shapeless Chanel cape. Similarly, fur has held its ground as a fabric of luxury, and the past few seasons have shown a fur resurgence.  Designers are playing with different treatments of fur; think full sleeves, thick textures, even psychedelic dyes like turquoise, red and pink.

TIBETAN REGALIA for BUDDHIST ORACLE, early 1900s & CHINESE IMPERIAL ROBE, 1775-1825

DRIES VAN NOTEN, MARY KATRANTZOU, & ETRO, FALL 2011

The Tibetan tradition of the oracle’s regalia is to emphasize his connection to the spiritual world, just as the Chinese imperial robe expresses an emperor’s oneness with God. And while fashion today isn’t exactly spiritual, it’s arguable that our ability to see runway shows online connects us to the fashion gods (aka designers). Religion aside, the inspiration of Tibet and China is unmistakable on some of today’s biggest runways, including Dries Van Noten, Mary Katrantzou, and Etro, which featured looks with boldly mixed patterns, draped fabrics, ornate decoration, and metallic threads.

While the prints and fabrics on the regalia and robe were partially chosen for aesthetic reasons, they serve a greater symbolic meaning. The multi-piece regalia was made with imported silk and metallic threads to create a sense of opulence, and the three eyes on the headpiece show the oracle’s two physical eyes and his third “inner eye” that symbolizes enlightenment and wisdom.  In the modern Dries Van Noten, Kantratzou and Etro looks, the styling errs on the aesthetic side – but the bold colors, collage of mixed prints, and luxe fabrics communicate a more complex, multifaceted woman.  By rejecting convention, they project a sense of luxury and beauty in a way that mimics the glorification of the ancient Tibetan oracles and Chinese emperors.

Katrantzou referred to her fall collection as being created for a woman surrounded by beautiful things, and to do so she “pushed prints to the limit.”  Similarly, Dries Van Noten used a collage of patterns from different time periods to create a type of synoptic image. Dries also executed an extreme attention to detail, using bright snakeskin or shimmery gold threads to add subtle impact and definition to the large patterns.  Etro’s look most resembles the Asian pieces, with a tapestry-esque pattern printed on a conservative two-piece ensemble.

CHANEL 3-PIECE SUIT, 1964

MICHAEL KORS, YSL, & EMILIO PUCCI, FALL 2011

From the very beginning, Chanel emphasized elegance and polish on simple shapes, constructed womenswear with jersey fabric, and turned out innovative, striking designs for every day.  The women’s pantsuit was a premiere example of Chanel’s expert craftsmanship and thoughtful designs; what was once reserved for businessmen was now available to women who wanted a sleek, professional, and modern new look.  By using unexpected materials like brocade or boucle, Chanel was able to give women the “new uniform” of the ’20s while maintaining a sense of femininity.  This gold suit from 1964 displays the idea flawlessly: a fitted collarless jacket and slim pants becomes even more feminine when done in shimmering gold, silver, blue, and purple threads.  Luxurious details like braided edges and expensive fastenings also add to the elegant feel, while maintaining that sleek and unfussy look.

The fact that suits aren’t inherently feminine is perhaps what makes them so unexpectedly womanly, and we can certainly see this idea repeated in modern suits.  Women today still consider suits one of the most stylish ensembles (when done right, of course) and it’s those slight details that make all the difference.  In the drapey Kors suit, a deep V-neck, flowing jacket, and super-skinny pants lend some edge; YSL’s snug black suit features nautical buttons, puffed sleeves and cigarette style pants to enhance the female shape; and Pucci’s all-white look is both crisp and relaxed, for the fashion-forward, minimalist woman.  Suits are the original classic, and clearly they’re far from fading out.

You can see the results in use (and all of the fabulous clothes) in the Paul Textile Gallery and Fashion Arts Gallery until February 6, 2012.

What were your inspirations for the Material World typeface?

The grid-like mesh of natural elements like spider webs was an inspiration, as well as man-made things like chain-link fences. Both can feel either very clean and manufactured or organic depending on how they are viewed or manipulated.

How did you design this typeface? Did you make the whole alphabet?

Functioning typefaces are created with specialized software that allows them to be typed directly from the keyboard, and includes important  information about spacing, alternate weights, etc. Because we were only using these new letters to spell short phrases, and because of the time required to actually create a functioning font, I simply made the letters in Adobe Illustrator with the pen tool. Creating each letter isn’t difficult, but it can be time consuming, so I drew only the characters I needed for this exhibition.

Why did you design a typeface and not use one that already existed?

While thinking about what typography and imagery could be used to represent the intricate materials used in the exhibition, I did look at a number of pre-existing options. Ornate display type tends to be created to connote specific imagery—Victorianism, holidays, or the stereotypes of a foreign culture, for instance. I wanted something that felt contemporary and spoke to the physical construction of the garments, but also seemed organic as well. It didn’t take very long to realize that drawing my own letters was the most natural approach.

How does the design of Material World enhance a visit to the show?

The primary goal of any design is to enhance the content. The experience of shopping at a big-box grocery store is very different from visiting an expensive clothing retailer, and it’s not because of the objects for sale. By using dark colors and not using more light than necessary, we are trying to create a space that feels intimate and seductive when compared to other galleries. The typography, too—both in its design and its use in the show—is meant to accentuate the seductive nature of the work, as well as reference the intricate patterns and handwork evidenced in many of the pieces.

Material World, the latest exhibition in the Paul Textile and Fashion Arts Galleries, is comprised of tantalizing objects from around the world, each with its own set of installation needs. From court dresses to Imperial robes to ceremonial dance ensembles, the size and weight of the objects, vulnerability of materials, and the support needed vary from object to object. Some pieces demand heads for accompanying headdresses, while others require specific stances, or modified mounts.

Custom mount for woman’s belt.

Installed, the ring supports the belt allowing long fringe to hang freely.

In some instances, dresses slipped on mannequins with little adjustment, but in other cases the silhouette of the garment or weight and texture of the fabric prohibited the use of conventional dress forms. One example is a Chinese Palace Guard uniform worn by a sentinel in the Imperial army during the Qing Dynasty. The ensemble consists of eight pieces: an oversized coat, over-trousers split in the center covered with an embroidered panel, two shoulder ornaments made of heavy gilt bronze, and patches buttoning onto the jacket. The striking ensemble is made of heavy brocaded satin cloth with gold metallic threads enhanced by the addition of hundreds of bronze studs covering the surface of the fabric. Due to the weight of the fabric and size of the coat, the piece could not be exhibited on a mannequin in a pose with arms at the side. In addition, we had to account for the heavy epaulets on either shoulder, to ensure that each are supported without placing any strain on the fabric. Therefore, we enlisted the help of the IMA’s mount maker, Brose Partington. Brose removed the mannequin’s arms and created customized armatures that lock on.

The result is impressive. Not only does the pose alleviate strain on the fabric (had the arms been used, the sleeves would have bunched and crushed under the arms on either side) but the domineering uniform can now be viewed in its entirety.

Modified male mannequin in mount room.

On view in Material World.

Another case – a true labor of love, – was a customized mount made to scale for an Ethiopian cape and matching crown.  The cape and crown, composed predominately of lions’ skin and manes, were components of a warrior’s formal attire, most likely worn by a military or civilian official.  I liken this project to a quilt, completed in a quilting bee, where several sets of hands work on one piece. The design and pattern for the mount was created by Kathleen Kiefer; the IMA’s Senior Textile Conservator, while the ethafoam pieces were cut out, shaped and adhered by me. The padding, layered to mimic the shape of a man’s chest, was applied by Kathleen and our intern, while Paul Siebenthal (the IMA’s new mount maker) designed a base. Here is the breakdown of the process step by step.

Step 1) Pattern traced onto ethafoam sheets:

Step 2) Cutting the pieces out:

Step 3) Gluing the two forms together:

 Step 4 & 5) Padding and sculpting the torso with polyester needle punched batting:

Step 6) Lopping off the chin of a pre-made ethafoam head & shaving it down with sand paper – the chin was too pointy:

Step 7 & 8 ) Covering the torso and head with black cotton knit:

Voila! On view in Material World:

The armatures for the male mannequin will be removed after the exhibition closes (February 6, 2012) so the mannequin can be reused, while the mount created from ethafoam will be stored and used when the cape and crown are exhibited again.  To see all this handiwork in person, be sure to visit Material World soon!

Through Read My Pins I learned the former Secretary of State, Dr. Albright, communicates messages by carefully choosing what pin to wear: a turtle when she felt negotiations were moving slowly, a gold dove to symbolize a partnership for peace, the sun as a sign of hope in difficult situations. The pendants also add to her outfits. I was inspired by the idea of small accessories communicating messages and influencing outfits from day to day.

Like a pin, a printed silk scarf has the same potential to communicate a message and update suits.

After reading a post on a Pucci scarf in the collection, my interest grew in regard to other scarves housed at the IMA. While in storage, I discovered a charming Yves Saint Laurent design for The House of Dior, stumbled upon a Balenciaga scarf of tiny poly-loop bows, and peeked at gorgeous shawls from Turkey.

Right now, I am in a dream. As a student of design, it is such a privilege for me to study the construction and design of quality works up close.

Before moving from Austin to Indianapolis for this rare opportunity, I was eager to learn more about the projects I would be working on as a curatorial intern. Petra’s post “So…What exactly do you do?” prepared me for the hunt data clean-up initiates and Jessica’s post on “Building a Bird(man) House” got me excited for the hands-on construction I might be participating in with object storage.  As expected after reading these posts, my scarf search evolved into a storage maintenance project. Keeping up with the housing and organization system for objects – there are over 7,000 in the textile collection – is an ongoing responsibility. The task of re-housing the scarf entailed rolling it in Tyvek® around a supportive, archival tube. The new housing received a content identification label to prevent unnecessary handling, and then the roll was carefully threaded onto a rod across a large drawer suitable for flat textiles, like scarves.

While searching, a vibrant, branded Norell, silk twill scarf stood out to me, perhaps because I am patiently waiting for spring to stay here in Indianapolis.

Scarf, 1969 by Norman Norell (1988.298) Gift of Mrs. Max Fisher in memory of Norman Norell

Norell detail (1988.298).

After some research, I discovered American names in fashion were not valuable until the 1960s (from Woody Hochswender’s article in American Heritage Magazine). As a result of Anthony Traina’s retirement from Traina-Norell, both label and company became Norell’s in 1960. The scarf with 100 navy stars and the “Norell” name was featured on the June 1969 cover of Harper’s Bazaar, styled with a Norell outfit.

Norman Norell, a designer from Noblesville, Indiana and son of a haberdasher, was known for successfully converting French couture elements into well -made, American ready-to-wear. I would not have known from the outfit and scarf featured on the cover that Norell’s greatest fashion influence was the Twenties. He drew upon this period for sheath dresses with their straight up-and-down lines, sometimes belted but never seamed at the waist.

The costume illustration below shows the influence The Jazz Age had on his style. The straight-cut, dropped waist, shiny gold cloth and plunging neckline typify dress in the twenties. The sketch is signed “Norell” in the lower right corner.

Costume sketch (recto and verso), 1920s, Norman Norell “ivory velvet” “heavy gold cloth” “vermillion velvet” “parasol & edge of girdle” (center right) “Norell” (lower right) (1985.569A-B) graphite, watercolor, gold ink on paper, Gift of John Moore.

Norell’s inspiration reminded me of conversations I had with FAS members during a meeting in January. After touring Read My Pins, the Fashion Arts Society met in the Fountain Room for a social gathering.  As fashion enthusiasts, we shared our favorites from Dr. Albright’s collection and closed the evening with conversations concerning who will wear what to the IMA’s 3^rd annual fundraiser, Flappers and the Flaming Youth.

As a result, a new search began. This time I was looking for accessories to serve as design or style inspiration for the twenties themed event on Saturday, May 21^st. at the Oldfields – Lilly House and Gardens, which was designed in the 1920s –how appropriate!

Stole (and detail), 1925-1930, America; Europe, (76.113) cotton net with metal studs, Gift of Mrs. T.S. MacMurray.

This long, cotton net stole is a great example of 1920s design. The decade was all about opulence following the First World War. Shiny metallic materials, similar to the gold cloth suggested in the Norell sketch, were common. The geometric formation of metal pieces on this scarf is typical of the Art Deco movement.

Hat, 1920-1929, (76.315) silk with sequins and beads. Gift of Mr. and Mrs. F. Noble Ropkey.

IMA guests attending Flappers and The Flaming Youth are sure to have a roaring good time since the night will include, but not be limited to, stars and sequins. I look forward to seeing examples of frocks from the evening. But for now, I am grateful for the days I spent behind-the-scenes, sewing props in the conservation lab and attending to objects in storage, all the while getting to know designers like Norman Norell through their creations.

Emilio Pucci, scarf, "La Caccia," 1959. Gift of Murph Damron (2009.26)

Fashion designer and Italian aristocrat, Emilio Pucci is perhaps best known for his brilliant, sinuous prints. Inspired first by the atmosphere on the Island of Capri, Marchese Emilio Pucci di Barsento (1914-1992) began designing clothing for women in 1949, opening a small shop a few years later. Preoccupied with the absurd constraints popular clothing of the time imposed on women; he re-conceptualized menswear for women, as resort wear. Loose fitting shift dresses, palazzo pants and blouses, created out of luxurious hand-painted silks. The instantly recognizable Pucci brand was highly sought after for much of the 1950s and 1960s.

Emilio regularly looked to his heritage for inspiration; his ancestry can be traced back to both Lorenzo de Medici and Catherine the Great.  “Possibly the greatest misconception about Emilio Pucci is that the prints that made the brand famous are abstract. In fact, they are drawings, often simply inspired by objects, or Pucci’s home surroundings…” (Pucci: Fashion Story, 2010, pg. 107)

Considered a Renaissance man by many , he was “… fascinated by his roots, and art and architecture; you can actually see it in his work. On my honeymoon in Capri in 1953, I remember going to his shop and being struck by how much the designs resembled Florentine mosaics. It was really extraordinary, although I don’t think a lot of people realized it.” –Rosita Missoni (Pucci: Fashion Story, 2010, pg. 42)

In 2009, the IMA acquired a silk scarf by Emilio Pucci, titled La Caccia or The Chase from his Botticelliana Collection, 1959.  The motif for the scarf is inspired by the Stories of Nastagio degli Onesti by Sandro Botticelli.

Silk twill cocktail dress featuring the caccia motif. From the Botticelliana Collection, Spring/Summer 1959. Photo © Giulio Guzzoni/Emilio Pucci Archive, Florence. Image scan: (Pucci: Fashion Story, 2010, pg. 133)

In 1483 Sandro Botticelli was hired by the Florentine nobleman Antonio Pucci (a 15th century relative of Emilio’s) to create a series of paintings in celebration of the marriage of Pucci’s son Giannozzo to Lucrezia Bini. The paintings illustrate a tale from Boccaccio’s Decameron (1353), a collection of stories related by a group of characters over the course of ten days to amuse themselves as they fled Florence to escape from an outbreak of the plague.

Botticelli’s paintings tell the story of Nastagio degli Onesti, related by the character of Filomena on the fifth day of the Decameron. Nastagio is a young man from Ravenna who has fallen in love with a woman but been rejected. Despondent, he heads to the outskirts of the city to lick his wounds.

Sandro Botticelli, "The Story of Nastagio degli Onesti: The Encounter with the Damned in the Pine Forest," 1483. Tempera and oil on panel, 83 x 138 cm. Museo del Prado, Madrid.

The first painting shows Nastagio in the forest, where he sees a nude woman being chased by dogs and a man on horseback.  The man, Guido del Anastagi, fell in love with the woman but, like Nastagio, was rejected by her.  He was so shattered by her rejection that he committed suicide. Nastagio is witnessing the duo’s eternal punishment—Guido sinned by committing suicide, and his beloved sinned by rejecting his love. They are condemned to repeat a “caccia infernale” (infernal hunt)—Guido chases her down and disembowels her, and feeds her heart and entrails to his dogs. The hunt is repeated over and over again, without end.

Sandro Botticelli, "The Story of Nastagio degli Onesti: The Infernal Hunt," 1483. Tempera and oil on panel, 82 x 138 cm. Museo del Prado, Madrid.

In the second painting, Nastagio flees from the violent scene as we see the hunt begin again in the background.

Sandro Botticelli, "The Story of Nastagio degli Onesti: The Banquet in the Pine Forest," 1483. Tempera and oil on panel, 84 x 142 cm. Museo del Prado, Madrid.

Nastagio is horrified by the violence he has seen, but at the same time inspired—he realizes that he can use the other couple’s punishment to convince his own beloved to end his torment.  In the third painting, Nastagio has invited the object of his affection and her family to a banquet in the forest, knowing that it will be interrupted by the damned lovers’ chase. Nastagio’s beloved, to the left in a white dress, is understandably traumatized.  After witnessing the violent torment rewarded to the woman who had rejected Guido’s love, she changes her mind about Nastagio. On the right, her servant tells Nastagio that his beloved will accept his proposal.

Sandro Botticelli, "The Story of Nastagio degli Onesti: The Wedding Banquet," 1483. Tempera and oil on panel, 82 x 142 cm. Private collection, Florence.

The final painting shows their sumptuous wedding banquet, with fashionably-dressed women seated on the left and the men on the right, while servants carry in platters of food. Portraits of Antonio Pucci and his patron Lorenzo de’ Medici are included amongst the men, and the Pucci, Medici, and Bini coats of arms are displayed above, along with branches of myrtle to symbolize love.

To a modern audience, the story of Nastagio seems like a rather gruesome and off-putting wedding gift for Giannzzo Pucci and Lucrezia Bini. It is perfectly in accord, however, with Renaissance notions of decorum, and familial and civic duty.  In patriarchal Florentine society, Nastagio’s beloved was wrong to reject his suit, showing arrogance and independence which were not admirable qualities in a woman. The story reveals the importance of marriage in ensuring an organized society—neither man nor woman is meant to live in an unmarried state, and both should accept their respective roles in society, whatever their personal sacrifices may be, for the stability of their families and of Florence.

In 1967, Emilio purchased the painting upon learning The Wedding Banquet, 1483, was to be sold at an English auction house, and brought it back to Florence.

“He had been talking about that painting since we got married. I think it was probably his greatest achievement: to get back what his family had sold.  To bring it home.” -Marchesa Christina Pucci

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Like Botticelli’s paintings, Pucci’s story of La Caccia is divided into four sections. Although less gruesome, this version also depicts a chase, but in Pucci’s tale the prey is a stag or deer, rather than the ill-fated lover of Guido del Anastagi. In the first scene, lords, hunting dogs and horses prepare for a long journey into the hills of Italy. The horn sounds and the hunt begins.

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In the second scene, the once unsuspecting, feeding deer become alarmed and try to escape, but the lords and hunting dogs are adept.

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This scene portrays the victorious hunters ambling home with their game in tow.

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The final scene, much like Botticelli’s fourth painting, The Wedding Banquet, depicts lords and ladies at an elaborate banquet in the woods feasting on the day’s kill. Servants attend to the couples while others prepare the leftovers. Note the Pucci coat of arms, on the table, center front, also visible in Botticelli’s paintings, The Banquet in the Pine Forest, and The Wedding Banquet, and the castle in the background, perhaps a reference to the Palazzo Pucci in Florence.