In Praise of the Little Black Dress
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- Jaye
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In Praise of the Little Black Dress
I found this item on MSN yesterday, and thought I'd share it with you all. It's good reading, and good advice for anyone who dares to wear the LBD.
In Praise of the Little Black Dress
This classic item is always in style.
By Anna Johnson
I remember my first little black dress. It was made of black rayon crepe, cut tight at the waist with crafty little darts cut in at the shoulders that gave even the flattest chest an illusion of bosom. I wore it to a party where no one knew I was only 13, and I got into all sorts of grown-up trouble.
Black, though ubiquitous in everyday fashion, always has the power to shock. It can make a young girl look dangerously sophisticated and a mature woman look ageless. If well-cut it is usually slimming, and if worn simply it is always sexy, and like anything classic, it is open to radical re-invention. Just yesterday I was stopped in my tracks by a window full of little black dresses that looked like they were from Star Trek via the Kabuki theatre of 18th century Tokyo. There in the window of Yohji Yamamoto were four intense evening numbers with trailing ribbons, asymmetrical hems, transparent layers, and dangerous necklines. It made me think of how far the little black dress (LBD) has traveled in two hundred years.
Originally worn as a proper expression of mourning, a young widow in the early 19th wore a gown of bombazine, a fabric that sucked in all available light making a lady's figure dominate a room like a pool of ink. The drama of framing a pale face and a curvy body in rustling ebony provided too strong a temptation, and soon the more daring divas wore black for its own sake. The notorious Madame X (a demimonde beauty called Virginie Gatreau) scandalized Paris society when the American painter John Singer Sargent painted her in a plunging velvet gown held together with tiny gems that looked like dewdrops. Nothing makes flesh look more nude than black. It is difficult today to understand the black dress as outrageous—if anything it is a working uniform, at worst it is a safe choice.
For Coco Chanel, the black dress signaled a liberation both from snobbery and futile fripperies. She made the dress her trademark based on a childhood wearing a simple black convent uniform and her timing was impeccable. After decades of tinselly lace and insipid floral chiffons, Chanel made simplicity powerful. The birth of her little black dress neatly coincided with the rise of the career girl. Egalitarian and instantly flattering, suddenly the secretary and a countess were on an equal footing in black.
Well-documented through the last century, we all know who looked good in a little black dress: Edith Piaf belting out a love song. Catherine Deneuve with her hair pinned up and heavy black eyeliner. Audrey Hepburn in a very tight column of a dress with a large black hat with trailing chiffon bow to match. Diana Spencer falling out of her black taffeta corset, and, at a stretch, Liz Hurley jiggling along in a black Versace gown held together with safety pins.
The most memorable women in black only let us remember the dress. You don't recall the shoes, the bag, or even the men they were with, particularly. It all comes back to the dress. When investing in your first or just your most recent little black dress, you need to go for the same iconic charge. Choose a dress that flatters your figure, don't wear spaghetti straps if you don't like your arms, and shun a sheath if you have a wide derriere. The beauty of the LBD is the diversity of its forms. A knee-length silk shirtdress with a crinoline skirt could look a whole lot more youthful than the classically clichéd '60s-style shift. A dress that has two different fabric elements (such as a velvet bodice and a satin skirt) is an LBD with a twist, and knitted, crocheted, and stretch dresses fall into the same category.
When I was 13, I wore my first black dress to see where it would take me. That night I led a conga line of delinquent beauty queens into a large swimming pool, ruining my first LBD forever. As Edith Piaf would say, "No regrets."
10 ways to wear a little black dress
1. There is the classic LBD and then there is the avant-garde black dress. Own one of both. The first should be a body-hugging Audrey Hepburn sheath style, and the second should be crafted of something utterly unexpected like corduroy, beaded chiffon, or leather.
2. Don't make the dress do all the work. Invest in a pair of pumps that bear perfect proportion to your hem.
3. Build your wardrobe around the dress: A peony-red swing coat and a black dress. A houndstooth raincoat and a black dress. A white alpaca poncho and a black dress, and so on.
4. Try quirky accessories with a very classic spaghetti strapped LBD … a silk bow tie in violet and black, a top hat, a little faux fur cape, or a pair of fluorescent fingerless gloves.
5. Wear serious and large-scale jewels with the same style of dress. Rope some chunky coral, Mexican turquoise, '50s paste, or a big topaz on a velvet ribbon around your neck. Look at Romantic portraiture for inspiration. The LBD is your frame, your face is the masterpiece.
6. Own at least one LBD with a white collar and cuffs; it is the perfect dress to slide from corporate boardroom to cocktail lounge. White near the face is more flattering at the end of the day.
7. Update your LBD to suit your life and your body. Skin on the décolletage gets a little less perfect over the years, so heighten the neckline and choose a gown with sheer chiffon sleeves.
8. Always make an extra effort with your hair and makeup when wearing an LBD. A slightly bouffant chignon tied with a velvet bow or a glossy blow-out, teamed with smoky gray eyeliner and extra mascara, heighten the seductive powers of wearing all black. Coo-coo-cachoo, Mrs. Robinson!
9. Choose your occasions to make the LBD; cocktail parties are drowning in chic black, baby showers are not. If you have to wear a black dress to an all-black affair, do jolt it a little with a bright-red corsage of silk peonies or some heavy gold bracelets and a high, high ponytail.
10. Never regret wearing a black dress to feel more conservative, authoritative, or simply sexier than you naturally are. Your bank manager, your Mother, and your husband will all be happy.
10 ways not to wear a little black dress
1. Don't wear more than two black items in one outfit. The shoes can match the dress, but make the bag a color or a print.
2. Never wear the LBD with black opaque stockings; sheer coffee- or smoke-colored tights are best.
3. A black, black dress with a white, white cardigan looks cheap. Try biscuit, aqua, or pale pink instead.
4. Large plastic pearls? No. Small, freshwater pearls? Yes.
5. The perfect LBD hemline sits right on the knee or just a touch higher. Long black dresses need lighter fabrics and a sleeve no longer than the elbow. Don't get swamped.
6. Visible bra straps, even when black and La Perla, defy the chic purpose of the LBD.
7. Shiny, overly matte, stretchy, slippery, or crinkled black fabric won't flatter you like a good wool and cashmere blend, or a nice heavy silk satin.
8. Don't scrimp, and don't buy a black dress merely because it is black and on sale. Spend more on the black dress than anything else in your wardrobe and you will be rewarded with interest.
9. Never let an LBD get shiny across the rear. To de-bronze fabric, iron with a spray bottle of water and a few drops of white vinegar.
10. Always wear black lingerie with this little number. Heighten the drama at all times.
In Praise of the Little Black Dress
This classic item is always in style.
By Anna Johnson
I remember my first little black dress. It was made of black rayon crepe, cut tight at the waist with crafty little darts cut in at the shoulders that gave even the flattest chest an illusion of bosom. I wore it to a party where no one knew I was only 13, and I got into all sorts of grown-up trouble.
Black, though ubiquitous in everyday fashion, always has the power to shock. It can make a young girl look dangerously sophisticated and a mature woman look ageless. If well-cut it is usually slimming, and if worn simply it is always sexy, and like anything classic, it is open to radical re-invention. Just yesterday I was stopped in my tracks by a window full of little black dresses that looked like they were from Star Trek via the Kabuki theatre of 18th century Tokyo. There in the window of Yohji Yamamoto were four intense evening numbers with trailing ribbons, asymmetrical hems, transparent layers, and dangerous necklines. It made me think of how far the little black dress (LBD) has traveled in two hundred years.
Originally worn as a proper expression of mourning, a young widow in the early 19th wore a gown of bombazine, a fabric that sucked in all available light making a lady's figure dominate a room like a pool of ink. The drama of framing a pale face and a curvy body in rustling ebony provided too strong a temptation, and soon the more daring divas wore black for its own sake. The notorious Madame X (a demimonde beauty called Virginie Gatreau) scandalized Paris society when the American painter John Singer Sargent painted her in a plunging velvet gown held together with tiny gems that looked like dewdrops. Nothing makes flesh look more nude than black. It is difficult today to understand the black dress as outrageous—if anything it is a working uniform, at worst it is a safe choice.
For Coco Chanel, the black dress signaled a liberation both from snobbery and futile fripperies. She made the dress her trademark based on a childhood wearing a simple black convent uniform and her timing was impeccable. After decades of tinselly lace and insipid floral chiffons, Chanel made simplicity powerful. The birth of her little black dress neatly coincided with the rise of the career girl. Egalitarian and instantly flattering, suddenly the secretary and a countess were on an equal footing in black.
Well-documented through the last century, we all know who looked good in a little black dress: Edith Piaf belting out a love song. Catherine Deneuve with her hair pinned up and heavy black eyeliner. Audrey Hepburn in a very tight column of a dress with a large black hat with trailing chiffon bow to match. Diana Spencer falling out of her black taffeta corset, and, at a stretch, Liz Hurley jiggling along in a black Versace gown held together with safety pins.
The most memorable women in black only let us remember the dress. You don't recall the shoes, the bag, or even the men they were with, particularly. It all comes back to the dress. When investing in your first or just your most recent little black dress, you need to go for the same iconic charge. Choose a dress that flatters your figure, don't wear spaghetti straps if you don't like your arms, and shun a sheath if you have a wide derriere. The beauty of the LBD is the diversity of its forms. A knee-length silk shirtdress with a crinoline skirt could look a whole lot more youthful than the classically clichéd '60s-style shift. A dress that has two different fabric elements (such as a velvet bodice and a satin skirt) is an LBD with a twist, and knitted, crocheted, and stretch dresses fall into the same category.
When I was 13, I wore my first black dress to see where it would take me. That night I led a conga line of delinquent beauty queens into a large swimming pool, ruining my first LBD forever. As Edith Piaf would say, "No regrets."
10 ways to wear a little black dress
1. There is the classic LBD and then there is the avant-garde black dress. Own one of both. The first should be a body-hugging Audrey Hepburn sheath style, and the second should be crafted of something utterly unexpected like corduroy, beaded chiffon, or leather.
2. Don't make the dress do all the work. Invest in a pair of pumps that bear perfect proportion to your hem.
3. Build your wardrobe around the dress: A peony-red swing coat and a black dress. A houndstooth raincoat and a black dress. A white alpaca poncho and a black dress, and so on.
4. Try quirky accessories with a very classic spaghetti strapped LBD … a silk bow tie in violet and black, a top hat, a little faux fur cape, or a pair of fluorescent fingerless gloves.
5. Wear serious and large-scale jewels with the same style of dress. Rope some chunky coral, Mexican turquoise, '50s paste, or a big topaz on a velvet ribbon around your neck. Look at Romantic portraiture for inspiration. The LBD is your frame, your face is the masterpiece.
6. Own at least one LBD with a white collar and cuffs; it is the perfect dress to slide from corporate boardroom to cocktail lounge. White near the face is more flattering at the end of the day.
7. Update your LBD to suit your life and your body. Skin on the décolletage gets a little less perfect over the years, so heighten the neckline and choose a gown with sheer chiffon sleeves.
8. Always make an extra effort with your hair and makeup when wearing an LBD. A slightly bouffant chignon tied with a velvet bow or a glossy blow-out, teamed with smoky gray eyeliner and extra mascara, heighten the seductive powers of wearing all black. Coo-coo-cachoo, Mrs. Robinson!
9. Choose your occasions to make the LBD; cocktail parties are drowning in chic black, baby showers are not. If you have to wear a black dress to an all-black affair, do jolt it a little with a bright-red corsage of silk peonies or some heavy gold bracelets and a high, high ponytail.
10. Never regret wearing a black dress to feel more conservative, authoritative, or simply sexier than you naturally are. Your bank manager, your Mother, and your husband will all be happy.
10 ways not to wear a little black dress
1. Don't wear more than two black items in one outfit. The shoes can match the dress, but make the bag a color or a print.
2. Never wear the LBD with black opaque stockings; sheer coffee- or smoke-colored tights are best.
3. A black, black dress with a white, white cardigan looks cheap. Try biscuit, aqua, or pale pink instead.
4. Large plastic pearls? No. Small, freshwater pearls? Yes.
5. The perfect LBD hemline sits right on the knee or just a touch higher. Long black dresses need lighter fabrics and a sleeve no longer than the elbow. Don't get swamped.
6. Visible bra straps, even when black and La Perla, defy the chic purpose of the LBD.
7. Shiny, overly matte, stretchy, slippery, or crinkled black fabric won't flatter you like a good wool and cashmere blend, or a nice heavy silk satin.
8. Don't scrimp, and don't buy a black dress merely because it is black and on sale. Spend more on the black dress than anything else in your wardrobe and you will be rewarded with interest.
9. Never let an LBD get shiny across the rear. To de-bronze fabric, iron with a spray bottle of water and a few drops of white vinegar.
10. Always wear black lingerie with this little number. Heighten the drama at all times.
Last edited by Jaye on Sun Aug 15, 2004 1:05 am, edited 1 time in total.
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I suppose it's fitting in a way that I posted this. The first outfit I ever purchased for myself consisted a a little black tankdress, with a mesh top I bought to wear as a jacket. I loved that dress, as it was cotton with a high percentage of Lycra: very form-fitting. It evolved into an even more-form-fitting tank top after my former sister-in-law threw it in with a load of hot wash.
The second "new" dress I bought for myself was another little black number, this time with a flared skirt and long sleeves. The dress had an illusion lining, and the whole outer surface of the dress was covered in strategically-placed holes. That dress got a lot of use at parties, and later when I began my ill-fated drag career. I think my ex cut that dress up to use the fabric for some craft project or other.
I miss that dress.
The second "new" dress I bought for myself was another little black number, this time with a flared skirt and long sleeves. The dress had an illusion lining, and the whole outer surface of the dress was covered in strategically-placed holes. That dress got a lot of use at parties, and later when I began my ill-fated drag career. I think my ex cut that dress up to use the fabric for some craft project or other.
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Hi Jaye,
Great post!
I have many different "little black dresses"
and I love
them all for different occasions and different season.
Black stands the test of time and never goes out of style (unlike many other colors/shades). I always look for more "classic lines" and better fabrics in a dress, when spending more money than normal. I sometimes will add more of a "trendy"(only if I like the trend
) item to spruce up an outfit.
Time for another! ##oo##
Great post!
I have many different "little black dresses"
Black stands the test of time and never goes out of style (unlike many other colors/shades). I always look for more "classic lines" and better fabrics in a dress, when spending more money than normal. I sometimes will add more of a "trendy"(only if I like the trend
Time for another! ##oo##
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