DRESS.

Since the 1980s new generations of academics, collectors, curators, and enthusiasts have discovered the value of the study of dress as an analytical research tool through which to examine aspects of social and economic history, material culture, cultural and gender studies, art history, anthropology, and sociology. As a consequence, the study of the history of dress has been transformed from its marginalized place of professional connoisseurship and amateur enthusiasms to become a firmly established academic and museum-based subject.

In the world of ethnography, a reconsideration of the cultural significance of clothing coupled with a rejection of old imperial approaches to ethnographical artifacts has revolutionized the field. In the early twenty-first century ethnographical museums have reconfigured their collections and displays, creating "living culture" exhibitions. These, as Michael Ross and Reg Crowshoe insist, must "see the world through another's eyes" and must ensure that "respect [is] given to another world view" (p. 240). Many ethnographical museums are also faced with serious questioning about their right to hold on to artifacts that are specifically sacred to their communities of origin, who now demand their return.

The study of dress, especially European-American fashionable dress, has long had to deal with accusations, usually from male academics, that the entire subject is a frivolous, female, trivial interest. However, the use of material culture and history of consumption debates have finally overwhelmed these prejudices. Material culture approaches stem from the premise that all goods carry a weight of cultural meanings that can be specifically "read" through object-based and consumption analysis. Anne Smart Martin states that "material objects matter because they are complex, symbolic bundles of social, cultural and individual meanings fused onto something we can touch, see and own" (p. 142).

Even when the clothes themselves have gone, their shadows survive through archives such as diaries and family accounts. Amanda Vickery studied the dress of Mrs. Elizabeth Shackleton, a well-off textile merchant's widow from the north of England, through a set of surviving personal papers dating from 1762 to 1781. Vickery concludes that Mrs. Shackleton used her clothing to identify her exact place in her gentry/merchant-class community. She did this by simplifying aristocratic style, consuming fashion with care and consideration, and altering her favorite clothes. Vickery shows that some clothes became so important to Shackleton in terms of family memory that they acquired talismanic characteristics. Vickery declares finally that her study of Mrs. Shackleton indicates significantly that women were highly responsible managers of "daily household consumption" (1993, p. 274) and far from frivolous spenders.

In 1998, Christopher Breward usefully outlined dress research developed from cultural and media studies. He noted a new interest in dress within social anthropology and semi-otics, for example, citing approaches by Ferdinand de Saussure and Roland Barthes as offering "cultural signifying systems, allowing the scholar to examine the social specificity of representations and their meaning across different cultural practices" (p. 306). Such dress-related representations include issues of behavior, the construction of appearance, the political question of identities (race, gender, and sexuality), subcultures, and semiotic interpretations of dress in films, literature, and magazines.

Caroline Evans discusses punk dress (with its patched-together use of schoolgirl uniform, bondage dress, and aggressive hair styling) as epitomizing a set of signs whose meaning is changed "through being jumbled up, re-ordered and re-contextualised next to other signs" (1997, p. 107). Fred Davis, in Fashion, Culture, and Identity (1992), also examined clothing as a nonverbal means of communicating social identity, "as this is framed by cultural values bearing on gender, sexuality, social status, age, etc." (p. 191). In refuting the trickle-down style-diffusion theory, he concludes that there are two fashion systems at play at the turn of the millennium, the globalized world of mass, commodified, international fashion and the "veritable cacophony of local, sometimes exceedingly transient, dress tendencies and styles each attached, however loosely, to its own particularity, be it a subculture, an age grade, a political persuasion an ethnic identity" (p. 206).

Feminist approaches.

Vickery, Jane Gaines, and Elizabeth Wilson have argued that feminist consumption analysis of the 1970s all too easily accepted a male view that women's interest in dress was frivolous and that women had indeed allowed themselves to become "the gilding of the patriarchal cage," on display for male pleasure (Vickery, 1998, p. 274). Wilson comments how strange it is that "when so much else has changed there still exists such a strong hostility to fashion amongst so many radicals" (p. 28). She proposes that feminists should accept "fashion as a legitimate and highly aesthetic pleasure," (p. 33), a view shared by Caroline Evans and Minna Thornton, who wrote in 1989 that fashion "is a field in which women have found pleasure in the elaboration of meaning—meaning which is there to be taken and used" (p. xv).

Analysis of male dress.

A new development in the 1990s, building on Farid Chenoune's innovative History of Men's Fashions (1993), has been the emergence of new critical examinations of menswear. This differs from the subcultural focus of Dick Hebdige in that it looks at a far wider social range of male clothing. Christopher Breward, Frank Mort, and John Tosh focus on the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries rather than on earlier periods. Their studies investigate not only the style, retailing, and consumption of men's clothing, but also the cultural processes surrounding the construction of masculinity and they provide, for the first time, an analysis of gay culture and its impact on mainstream dressing.

Thus, the whole field of dress history and dress studies has undergone a dynamic transformation since the 1980s, though it is useful to remember Patricia Cunningham's warning of 1988 that dress historians should not "follow other approaches blindly, but rather let our own questions and materials lead us to new approaches" (p. 79).

Constructions of Beauty: Sexuality and Issues of
Gendered Dress

Classical Greek art, including dress, has formed the basis of constructions of ideals of male and female bodily and facial beauty in the Western world, as witnessed by the continuing rereferencing of images such as the charioteer of Delphi, a bronze, life-size, votive statue from the Apollo Sanctuary, Delphi, dating from 475 b.c.e., at the end of the early classical period. In her study Fabrics of Vision: Dress and Drapery in Painting (2002) Anne Hollander notes that the cutting and shaping of cloth was unknown in ancient Greece. Rather "the beauty of clothing dwelt in the distinction of its woven fabric and the elegance or aptness with which it was draped around the individual body" (pp. 13–14). Typically, the charioteer of Delphi wears a long, simple, Ionic tunic held in place with cords over the shoulders that tie at the front waist. This system frees the arms and allows drapery to fall over the waist and then straight down to the ankles. Hollander notes that "the life likeness in carved Greek clothes and bodies has often produced perfection—a stylization of natural appearances so subtle as to seem absent" (pp. 13–14).

This classical draped perfection has been continually reworked within European-American dress design, nearly always in white fabric, and usually with a high waist. It was most famously appropriated as the symbol of freedom and equality during the French Revolution. Originating in the 1770s anti-establishment, neoclassical paintings of Jacques-Louis David, the style was adopted for use by women in French revolutionary festivals in the period from 1790 to 1795 and became, in modified fashion form, the fashionable attire of European and American women from 1800 until about 1825, when the high waist was abandoned. The next revivals came out of the English arts and crafts and aesthetic movements in the period from 1878 to 1910, favored by progressive, antifashion dressers. This reflected the very same search for natural feminine perfection at a time when the shape of fashionable women was distorted and restricted by corsets and bustles. The search was repeated again by Mariano Fortuny, who famously created his own "Delphos" dresses in finely pleated, plain-colored silk, modeled exactly on the tunic of the charioteer of Delphi. Fortuny produced these from his Venetian palazzo from 1910 until his death in 1949. They were worn by a group of progressive women, in defiance of the fashion of their time. Paris couturiers too, however, have famously reworked classical Greek drapery into the height of seasonal fashion, including Madeleine Vionnet, from about 1918 into the 1930s; Alix, also known as Madame Grés, through the 1930s and 1950s; and since the 1980s, John Galliano.

Maori culture.

The ethnographer Dorota Starzecka confirms that among the Maori of New Zealand, ideals of beauty, fashion, and glamour, and concern over creating a strong "visual impact" were traditionally embedded in the cultural practices of both men and women. "Even the most mundane dress or humble ornament was aesthetically pleasing or tasteful; the most successful fashion statement implied harmony of function, texture and design as well as glamour" (p. 45).

Starzecka, quoting Margaret Mead, notes that a Maori man "anxious to follow the fashion to its highest level would need to dress his hair into a top knot have greenstone pendants and white feathers hanging from his ears; have the rei puta [pendants carved from the teeth of sperm whales] suspended from his neck, have a dogskin cloak around his body" as well as "elaborate indelible tattoo designs over his face and forehead, and over his butoocks and thighs." (p. 39).

Starzecka describes the moko, or tattoo, as a fashion, albeit with mythic origins, a sacred practice, which came to New Zealand "as part of the cultural template from Eastern Polynesia.… With this elaborate and tastefully designed array of jewelry and other ornaments, including the permanently inscribed indigo-black patterning of the moko, the Maori were acutely conscious of personal appearance" (pp. 39–40).

China.

In Europe and America trousers were gendered as masculine until women very gradually, through progressive dress movements, encroached on this ownership little by little from the mid-nineteenth century. In China, however, trousers were worn by both sexes, especially among the rural peasantry. Made in blue cotton dyed with indigo and worn with simple matching jackets, this style can be seen in eighteenth-and nineteenth-century travelers' drawings of the Chinese peasantry.

When Chairman Mao sought to represent sartorially a uniformed image of his evolution from the late 1940s, he selected the same indigo-dyed trousers and jackets for civilian use and the entire population had to wear versions of this work uniform (zhifu ). Women's patriotic trousered suits (aiguo ni ), however, had "different styles of shirt and jacket to choose from, primarily distinguished by the detailing of the collar" and the shortness of the jackets (Roberts, p. 23). However, Claire Roberts notes that these differences were so slight that they "may have appeared the same to Western eyes" (p. 22). Despite the shift in political ideology and lifting of harsh dress regulations after Mao's death in 1976, similar styles continued into the new millennium; in the early twenty-first century many ordinary women in China still wear plain trousers and jackets, though Chinese-made jeans often replace Communist-style trousers.

Clothing as a Powerful Container of National
and Community Identity

Studies in clothing, as shown in Eileen Hooper-Greenhill's discussion of the return of a Ghost Dance shirt from Glasgow to the Lakota Sioux, confirm that dress can carry a profound talismanic weight of sacred meaning, related to the specific religious practices of their community of origin. In the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, museums that contained such examples, either looted by conquering and occupying forces or collected by missionaries, anthropologists, or traders, found themselves at the center of demands for their return.

The clash here lies between old imperialist museum approaches and the determination of communities to be respected as living cultures on their own terms. Many such communities see their sacred artifacts as defiled through storage and display in museums. In 1993 the Wounded Knee Survivors Association started a campaign for the repatriation of a Ghost Dance shirt to the Cultural Heritage Center in Pierre, South Dakota. George Crager had collected this shirt after the massacre at Wounded Knee in 1890, when nearly three hundred Lakota Sioux were killed by the Seventh U.S. Cavalry. Crager sold the shirt to Kelvingrove Museum in Glasgow, Scotland, in 1892. By then he was the Lakota interpreter on Cody's Wild West Show, which visited the city that year. In an awful irony, among the cast were Short Bull and Kicking Bear, both survivors of the massacre.

In the 1880s, Ghost Dance shirts were the center of Sioux ceremonies and were seen as so deeply imbued with protective qualities that they offered protection to wearers against the white man's bullets. As Eileen Hooper-Greenhill explains in her study Museums and the Interpretation of Visual Culture, the Glasgow shirt, displayed since the 1950s, had been exposed in a large case with little explanation alongside mixed "Indian" items. Museum curators in Glasgow refused to return the shirt, suggesting that it was a fake. The Wounded Knee Survivors Association petitioned the city, arguing that, as a sacred symbol of their cultural heritage, the shirt's return home would bring healing and dignity to a community plagued with despair, alcoholism, suicide, and loss of identity. The City Council voted in favor of the shirt's return, and it was taken back to Pierre in 1999. Hooper-Greenhill comments that even if doubts over provenance remain, the sacred cultural weight of the shirt to the Lakota Sioux in the 1990s "merited serious consideration" (p. 156).

Kente cloth.

Dress exhibitions and debates also question the role of dress within concepts of national identity. National dress, as Lou Taylor confirms, "bears the weight of representation of an entire nation … stemming from an urban, knowing, intellectualised awareness of the concept of nationhood" (p. 213). The UCLA Fowler Museum of Cultural History exhibition and book, Wrapped in Pride: Ghanaian Kente Cloth and African American Identity (1998), edited by the museum's director, Doran H. Ross, tracks the meanings placed on kente cloth from its "traditional" design, manufacture, and ritualized use in Ghana, including its use as national identity dress, to its consumption in the United States, where it has become a symbol of African-American identity. Ross explains that "the strength of kente [is] in the ideas that bind it to African American life and tie it to the Motherland" (p. 194). Research shows kente-inspired design has been used to mark out specific African-American identity through use in women's fashions, by children to mark Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday, for kente ornaments for the African-American Kwanza holiday, and to trim academic and church robes. Ross confirms that all of this anchors this cloth specifically within African-American culture, "enabling" increasing numbers of African-Americans to relate to and buy into their African heritage.

European peasant dress.

Dress in rural communities historically carries highly specific visual forms of ethnic identity because it is deeply embedded in local sociocultural tradition and practice. The design of dress is specific to each community, and clothes are worn with pride, uniting the village into one cohesive social and spiritual identity.

Peasant dress was worn in the more isolated rural communities of Europe until World War II. In Hungary, for example, over 50 percent of the population lived in the countryside until 1940. In Poland the number was 80 percent. European peasant communities led a parallel existence alongside urban cities (Hofer and Fél, p. 56). Their land was usually owned by wealthy urban families, and their art was informed by urban style, though always on their own terms.

As well as identifying a community, the use of artifacts and festive clothing in seasonal, religious, and life-cycle ceremonies was so central to community belief systems that Tamás Hofer and Edit Fél state that they "represent intentions, emotions and they solemenize human relationships and sanctify them" (Csillery, Fél, and Hofer, p. 3). Every step of a villager's life cycle (birth, courtship, marriage, and death) was celebrated by the entire community, following long-established rules that involved specific use of clothing, which represented their social and spiritual strength and unity.

Among the Matyó people of Mezokövesd, for example, if "a woman died young, her best clothes—followed her into the grave," while "a man's shroud was made from the loose sleeves of the shirt he had worn as a bridegroom" (Csillery, Fél, and Hofer, p. 23). Even though Mezokövesd was poor, interest in clothing was so strong that it was a "leading inspiration of peasant taste and style for surrounded area from the 1870s" (p. 50) because both men's and women's clothes were a riot of proudly flaunted decoration and color. Such clothes were central expressions of ethnic identity and reflected a community's "struggle, sacrifice and joy" (p. 60).

Issues of European-American Fashion Development and Consumption

Paris became the provider of modern, elegant, and costly fashions for royal and aristocratic wear across Europe beginning in the late seventeenth century. Louis XIV established his personal image as le Roi Soleil (Sun King) by creating at his palace of Versailles a luxury world entirely devoted to his glorification. Key to this was the appearance of his court and especially the clothing of his courtiers. All encouragement was given to the development of a new silk-weaving industry in the city of Lyon to provide luxury fashion fabrics for the court. Thus, from the early eighteenth century Lyon became the center for the design and manufacture of the most desired fashion silks, which were worn at every European royal court. Paris itself became the center for the retailing of dress and fashion accessories. This successful Paris/Lyon commercial twinning led to the development of the Paris haute couture industry by the late nineteenth century. Through this, Paris held its place as the creator and arbiter of European-American fashion right through to the 1960s, a period of over 350 years. Paris remains the most famous center for the display of fashion, though its designers come from all over the world and are rivaled by those in New London, Milan, Tokyo, and London.

In the eighteenth century, court dressmakers and their urban and aristocratic clients were the orginators of new styles. Aileen Ribeiro emphasizes the centrality of the creative fashion role of the marchands des modes in Paris, who "supplied and arranged" all the fancy trimmings on women's dress (p. 68). In 1745, Madame de Pompadour became mistress to Louis XV and, as Ribeiro shows in her study Dress in Eighteenth-Century Europe, "her fashion sense was dominant for the next decade; she summed up the elegance of the Rococo" (p. 136). Interestingly, Colin Jones (2002) confirms that Paris, rather than Versailles, set the fashions; Madame de Pompadour "shopped on the Rue St. Honoré and spurred the court to follow the city fashions, rather than rely on the city aping the court" (p. 153).

Britain.

In Britain, nineteenth-century mourning dress can be seen as an example of the social control of women through etiquette, but also as an example of the development of a middle-class fashion market, through ready-to-wear manufacture, department store retailing, and advertising. Social pressures to enact every last detail of the three stages of mourning dress were so intense that between 1850 and 1900, no woman who sought any kind of public respectability and community approbation for her family dared defy the rules. Thus sales in dull black silk mourning crape, white widows' caps, black woolen bombazine, and ready-made widows' weeds flourished until the ghastly death toll of World War I eroded the pressures and etiquette regulations.

Globalization of Fashion

Since the 1980s and the growth of the global economy, there has been massive growth in what Joanne Eicher has termed "world fashion" (p. 300). At the start of the twenty-first century, the preferred garments of young people of both sexes from around the world tend to be jeans, sweatshirts, T-shirts, and sneakers. These clothes are also international icons of American culture. The global young wear the same clothing, a phenomenon made possible by the exploitative mechanisms of the globalization of clothing manufacture, distribution, and retailing and by new technologies, global commodity advertising of branded leisure clothing, and the cultural and political domination of the United States. The reasons for wearing such clothing vary, but these clothes signify youth, modernity, and an eagerness to belong to the newly globalized capitalist world.

Dress as the Image of the Cutting Edge

In the period from 1964 to 1970, styles of dress worn by young women in Britain were the most famous visible representation of the "teenage revolution" and of the cutting edge of cultural modernity. Miniskirts exposed thighs to public view for the first time in European-American fashion history. These changes were rooted in the major social and cultural upheavals of the late 1950s, generated, as Tony Bennett explains, by "a watershed around which a series of significant "before" and "after" contrasts can be drawn" (p. 7). Young, radical film-makers, painters, writers, photographers, and designers then successfully challenged the British establishment's hold on cultural power. Many who came from working-class backgrounds were helped into university and art-school education by postwar state grants to cover fees and living costs.

The London couture trade ignored these developments, maintaining their prewar function of creating elegant clothing for the annual high society calendar. The fashionable age in 1955 was around thirty-five but could easily be fifty-five if a woman kept a slim figure. By 1965 the fashionable age was sixteen, a near twenty-year drop in ten years.

Countercultural groups and their dress.

This fashion shift was created by the young on their own terms. Angela Carter, a radical feminist writer and anti–Vietnam War activist, felt that "one was living on the edge of the unimaginable; there was a constant sense of fear and excitement" (p. 211). Young countercultural dressers from the late 1950s wore clothing appropriated from workers' clothing and army-surplus store outlets. "Ban the Bomb" campaigners and art students (the women often with long loose hair and the men with beards) wore fishermen's pullovers, road-menders' jackets, and ex-Naval duffel coats, in an effort to defy existing barriers of gender, class, and occupation. At about the same time, the subcultural, androgynous Mods focused their attention on modern jazz and on acquiring motor scooters, drugs, and neat expensive suits and short smart hair cuts. It was a tidy "look," originally male, but one that belied an "alternative" fascination with drugs and hard partying after the end of the working day.

It was a fusion of these styles and interests that by 1964–1965 evolved into the hard-edged bright "look" of London fashion and propelled the bold, colorful geometrics of Pop and Op art. By the late 1960s however a far more exotic, ethnic, and historical revival of styles, largely drawn from the hippie culture of the West Coast of the United States became commonplace in both alternative and mainstream fashion circles.

In Britain, state art colleges were the central catalyst for the blossoming of radical fashion, producing key designers such as Mary Quant, Ossie Clarke, and Barbara Hulanicki of Biba. As the most directional British style creator of the mid-1960s, Mary Quant's work cannot be underestimated. Always more interested in creating a whole "look," her innovative, simple clothes (with colored stockings and flat shoes appropriated from art-college, countercultural dress) were retailed at mid-market price levels. These designers threw out centuries of British upper-class clothing etiquette and nearly destroyed the London couture industry in the process.

The contrast with Paris could not be greater. There, the couture houses themselves produced a new generation of dynamic designers, such as Paco Rabanne, whose metal/plastic disc minidresses were not only more radical than London designs but also, crucially, helped keep Paris couture alive because of their direct appeal to the young.

Yoruba fashion, Nigeria.

Through the 1990s the academic study of fashionable dress began to reject its Eurocentric focus and a long-held view, as Joanne Eicher comments, that "dress outside the boundaries of western civilization has experienced little change and is therefore traditional" (p. 4). Acknowledgement has finally been made that the term fashion applies as equally to dress designed, manufactured, and consumed, for example, in Lagos, Dakar, Rajasthan, and Chiang Mai as in Paris, London, and Milan.

One of the most useful texts is Cloth, Dress, and Art Patronage in Africa (1999), by Judith Perani and Norma H. Wolff. This details the design, manufacture, and consumption of contemporary Yoruba strip-weave aso-oke cloth, which forms the basis of fashionable women's Yoruba dress in Nigeria. Made up into wrapper, blouse, and head tie, a competitive fashion in the late twentieth century was "shine-shine" lace cloth woven from specially imported Japanese, synthetic, gold, filament yarn.

Perani and Wolff explain that "shine-shine" cloth, made on narrow, traditional Yoruba strip-weave looms by male weavers, "has been adopted by wealthy urbanites as a visible symbol of prosperity, status and pride in ethnic heritage." They show that the weavers "have their fingers on the pulse of fashion through on-going interaction with their elite consumer-patrons" (pp. 171–172). Because of the flexibility of these craft processes, the weavers can alter the design of these fabrics rapidly, in keeping with fashion shifts. As Perani and Wolff make clear, none of this bears any relationship whatsoever to elite levels of European-American "designer" dress, except through the same constant search for design modernity and newness.

Designer fashion in the twenty-first century.

The world of couture has always responded to the zeitgeist of its times, as much in the twenty-first century as in Madame de Pompadour's day. In the twenty-first century's fascination with brand labels as symbols of modernity and "cool," the top designer fashion trade now serves as the glamorous front for the billion-dollar global marketing of designer-branded products of every kind. This mass retailing of branded fashion accessories, cosmetics, and perfume is built on near-mystical, magical designer images of beauty and celebrity, seen in glossy advertisements, on catwalks at the Academy Awards, and in much-reported fashion shows. With only a few thousand clients personally buying couture, designers are given free reign to create. All involved—particularly the two major fashion conglomerates, of Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton (also known as the LVMH group, which owns the salons of Givenchy, Christian Dior, Louis Vuitton, Marc Jacobs International, Kenzo, Christian Lacroix) and Pierre Bergé, owner of Yves St. Laurent, and of Gucci (which in the early 2000s owned majority holdings in the companies of Alexander McQueen and Stella McCartney)—recognize the central need for brand images to be "individual," seductive, and at the cutting edge of modernity. John Galliano's London sense of extreme, romantic, youthful modernity has, for example, been successfully appropriated in Paris, transforming the international image and bank balance of the house of Dior.

Weaving in and around this world are the conceptual designers, such as Martin Margiela, Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garçons, and Hussein Chalayan. Defined as designers who are more interested in the ideas behind their designs than in commercial viability, all of these produce both commercial and conceptual collections. Some, such as Alexander McQueen, fuse both approaches successfully into one. Caroline Evans in her seminal study Fashion at the Edge (2003), argues that from the 1990s avant-garde fashion design has reflected "the dark and deathly side" of consumer capitalism (p. 37). She notes the deliberate creation of "spoiled work that reflects a spoiled world" (p. 307), spoiled by deconstruction, remaking, cutting, slashing, damaging, even despoiling with mould and bacteria as in Margeila's exhibition work in the Netherlands in 1997. She describes these clothes as "apocalyptic visions" typified by notions of trauma, deathliness and haunting (p. 4). Evans sees these clothes as contemporary representations of cutting edge modernity, through their sartorial articulation of the political, cultural, social, and technological instabilities of the turn of the twenty-first century.

Evans shows how the work of Alexander McQueen illustrates many of these themes. She highlights his "What a Merry-Go-Round," autumn-winter 2001–2002 collection, based on a circus theme, with models made up as white clowns "to produce a mournful and alienated image—rather than celebrating circus performance" (p. 102). Evans notes that this show stressed "the frightening and strange elements of the circus—and thus the darker side of modernity" (p. 102).

Conclusion

The wide range of past and present approaches to the study of clothing and fashion outlined here were well established by the early 2000s, as confirmed by their use within museum exhibitions and a full range of dress publications dealing with historical, ethnographical, and fashion analysis. As Ann Smart Martin clearly states, all of this reflects, finally, "the shifts in intellectual feelings about the core relationships between humans, goods and society" (p. 143).

See also Body, The ; Cultural Revivals ; Cultural Studies ; Masks ; Textiles and Fiber Arts as Catalysts for Ideas .

bibliography

Bennett, Tony, et al. Politics, Ideology, and Popular Culture. Milton Keynes, U.K.: Open University Press, 1982.

Breward, Christopher. "Cultures, Identities: Fashioning a Cultural Approach to Dress." Fashion Theory 2, no. 4 (December 1998): 301–313.

Carter, Angela. "Truly It Felt Like Year One." In Very Heaven: Looking Back at the Sixties, edited by Sara Maitland, 209–216. London: Virago, 1988.

Csillery, Klára, Edit Fél, and Tamás Hofer. Hungarian Peasant Art. Budapest: Corvina, 1969.

Cunningham, Patricia. "Beyond Artifact and Object Chronology." Dress 14 (1988): 76–79.

Davis, Fred. Fashion, Culture, and Identity. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992.

Eicher, Joanne B. Dress and Ethnicity. Oxford: Berg, 1995.

Evans, Caroline. Fashon at the Edge: Spectacle, Modernity, and Deathliness. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2003.

————. "Street Style: Subcultures and Subversion." Costume 31 (1997): 105–110.

Evans, Caroline, and Minna Thornton. Women and Fashion: A New Look. London: Quartet, 1989.

Hitchcock, Tim, and Michèle Cohen. English Masculinities, 1660–1800. New York: Addison Wesley, 1999.

Hofer, Tamás, and Edit Fél. Hungarian Folk Art. Translated by Mária Kresz and Bertha Gaster. New York: Oxford University Press, 1979.

Hollander, Anne. Fabrics of Vision: Dress and Drapery in Painting. London: National Gallery, 2002.

Hooper-Greenhill, Eileen. Museums and the Interpretation of Visual Culture. London: Routledge, 2000.

Jones, Colin. Madame de Pompadour: Images of a Mistress. London: National Gallery, 2002.

Martin, Ann Smart. "Makers, Buyers, and Users: Consumerism as a Material Culture Framework." Winterthur Portfolio 28, nos. 2/4 (summer/autumn 1993): 141–157.

Mort, Frank. Cultures and Consumption: Masculinities and Social Space in Late Twentieth-Century Britain. London: Routledge, 1996.

Perani, Judith, and Norma H. Wolff. Cloth, Dress, and Art Patronage in Africa. New York: Berg, 1999.

Ribeiro, Aileen. Dress in Eighteenth-Century Europe, 1715–1789. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2002.

Roberts, Claire. Evolution and Revolution: Chinese Dress, 1700s–1990s. Sydney, Australia: Powerhouse, 1997.

Ross, Doran H., ed. Wrapped in Pride: Ghanaian Kente Cloth and African American Identity. Los Angeles: UCLA Fowler Museum of Cultural History, 1998.

Ross, Michael, and Reg Crowshoe. "Shadows and Sacred Geography: First Nations History-Making from an Alberta Perspective." In Making Histories in Museums, edited by G. Kavanagh, 240–256. Leicester, U.K.: Leicester University Press, 1996.

Starzecka, Dorota. Maori: Art and Culture. Auckland, New Zealand: British Museum, 1996.

Taylor, Lou. The Study of Dress History. London: Manchester University Press, 2002.

Vickery, Amanda. "Women and the World of Goods: A Lancashire Consumer and Her Possessions, 1751–1781." In Consumption and the World of Goods, edited by John Brewer and Roy Porter, 274–301. London: Routledge, 1993.

————. The Gentleman's Daughter: Women's Lives in Georgian England. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1998.

Wilson, Elizabeth. "All the Rage." In Fabrication: Costume and the Female Body, edited by Jane Gaines and Charlotte Herzog. London: Routledge, 1990.

Lou Taylor

dress. A sandstone weight of spindle‐whorl form, found in Ballyalton, Co. Down, suggests that, from neolithic times, wool was spun and woven in Ireland. The earliest clothing fragments extant are pieces of woollen cloth of about 1000 bc found in Killymoon, Co. Tyrone, in 1995, and wool cloth and a horsehair belt found in Cromagh, Co. Antrim, in 1904 and dated to about 750 bc. These pieces show that in the late Bronze Age vertical weighted looms, as well as looms for braid, were in use to weave fabrics in plain and sophisticated designs.

According to the Annals of the Four Masters Tighearmas, king of Ireland, was the first person, in 1538 bc, to dye clothes purple, blue, and green, while eight years later Eochaid Eadghadach (Eochaid the cloth designer) ordered that the colours of clothes should denote the wearer's rank in society. The dating is suspect, but the substance carries weight, as in early Ireland the colour and length of the brat (mantle) worn was related to a person's rank in society. Status was also suggested through embroidery and the application of decorative braids, particularly to the colourful brat. The white or gel (bright or unbleached) tunic worn throughout the early historic period suggests a Roman or classical influence, as does the introduction and development of fibulae which indicate the use of fine cloth, possibly linen. The Roman code of hygiene may also have influenced the dictate that certain classes in society had their clothes washed every day. Class rather than gender was thus the main distinguishing feature in dress styles in early Ireland. The less well‐off workers wore short tunics and skimpy mantles or tight trews with a small jacket, all dyed in less expensive colours.

As elsewhere throughout Europe, from about the 8th century women in Ireland began to wear layers of tunics and married women started to cover their heads. Men of all ranks changed to favour the styles worn throughout the Viking world: trews with about knee‐length tunics. Irishmen also wore a cochall or hooded mantle and a large mantle overall. By the 10th century the regular supply of Andalusian and Byzantine silks, satins, and gold braids added luxury to the home‐spun and locally dyed woollens and linens.

In the late 12th century the Anglo‐Normans introduced technical improvements such as the horizontal loom and probably the fulling mill, spinning wheel, and carding, much of the machinery known to this day. They also introduced a new dress style. The wealthy followed the modes of London and western Europe: men wore breeches, kirtles, (a sleeved full‐length garment worn over the smock and under the surcoat), and surcoats (a long, loose outer garment), while women wore a chemise under a kirtle of fine wool. Mantles, tied with a lace on the chest, were worn by both sexes, although of different lengths for each. The clothes worn by both sexes were colourful and the belts were frequently heavy, ornate, and expensive. The clean‐shaven, short‐hair appearance of the male contrasted with the native Irish who favoured facial hair and a culan hairstyle in which the front of the head was shaved and the hair left long at the back. The adoption by the colonists or their descendants of native styles in dress and hair (see gaelicization) was condemned in the Statute of Kilkenny and other medieval enactments.

The houpellande, a colourful, heavy woollen overgarment, worn long by the wealthy and of various short lengths by the less so, evolved about 1375. Superbly tailored and made weatherproof through fulling, it was worn by men, women, and children and was considered such a valuable item that it was included in wills. Fitted to the shoulders it fell in deep tubular folds which were held in place by a belt. Irish women continued to use versions of this houpellande into the 17th century. All were worn over a kirtle or chemise. A popular version had a wide V‐neck with long front opening ending in a U‐shape over the stomach.

The Irish sleeve evolved about this time too. Worn by both sexes it was a band of woollen fabric which stretched from the shoulder along the arm and was secured by buttoning or tying at the cuff. This allowed the display of the voluminous linen sleeves of the kirtle and of the Irish shirt.

Throughout the medieval period Ireland produced and exported ‘rugg mantles’ or fringed woollen mantles with a thick tufted nap which resembled the wool of sheepskin. Although taxed and disparaged by edicts from 1462 onwards, the rugg mantle was exported regularly to Britain and Europe from the 15th to the mid‐17th centuries as it satisfied a market demand for a cheap version of the then fashionable fur‐lined woollen cloak. It was criticized regularly in Ireland as unhygienic, being worn by day and night, yet being such a warm outfit it remained in use until at least the late 17th century. It was replaced by another fashion derivative, the home‐spun frieze semi‐circular cloak.

Another distinctive male dress item in late medieval Ireland was the ‘Irish jacket’. Of gilded and embroidered leather or of wool, it had a thickly pleated skirt, stand collar, and Irish sleeves. Trews in plain or checked wool were worn as were shoes and hats or caps. The Irish shirt is probably derived from the tunic of the early historic period. In the style of that early time, the long, full skirt was hitched up to the length required by the owner. Irish shirts were said to take 35 yards of linen, which may account for their distinctively full sleeves. By the 16th century they were frequently dyed saffron.

The aim of government from the mid‐14th to the 17th century was to make Irish people abandon their own dress styles—styles which retained ancestral comparisons with those worn throughout Europe—and to follow the styles favoured by the middle and upper classes of England. Under Henry VIII there was legislation against the Irish mantle, the use of saffron dye, and the wearing of overly long and full garments. Government also prohibited gowns embroidered or garnished with silk, decorated with couched embroidery, or with applied jewels ‘after the Irish fashion’. The use of strong colours at the time and the heavy demand for paste and other jewellery indicates that gaudy medieval fashions survived in Ireland.

Initially it was chieftains and others ambitious for land and wealth who began to adapt English styles, although even then some needed the encouragement of gifts of clothing or promises of preferential treatment to induce them to conform. By the 17th century London fashions were adopted more readily. For men this meant a change to trunk hose (later pantaloons), doublet, long coat, and semicircular cloak. Women's gowns of English styles were of stiff shapes in expensive fabrics but usually in quiet colours. At the same time some obstinately continued to relate to the styles worn by the unpretentious and comfortably off in Europe. An example of this is the red petticoat fashion. Worn with a small brown jacket and a neckerchief crossed on the front, this was a standard syle worn by women of all ranks of society throughout Europe—with the exception of Britain—in the 16th and 17th centuries. It survived in use in Ireland to the 20th century.

The coat as an outer garment is generally seen as having evolved in the late 17th century as the long coat for men in the French and English courts. The real origins of the ‘Irish coat’, however, more probably lay in the medieval gowns that artists such as Brueghel show as having been used generally by the less well off in Europe in the late 16th century. The fabric was measured through wrapping around the wearer's body and then cut to size. The arms were measured in a similar manner and edges joined with cloth buttons rather than a seam. In line with other medieval woollen garments the coat was of unlined frieze, about knee‐length, unhemmed, and with unisex stand collars. Irish coats of this distinctive kind were still in use in the late 18th century.

By the late 17th century, the trend throughout Europe was for people not to be restricted in their dress styles by their status in society. The blurring of social distinctions caused consternation in both Gaelic and Anglo‐Irish circles, and in 1682 the Irish Council of Trade issued ordinances against women who dressed above their station. By the mid‐18th century this barrier had been broken and most people dressed as they could afford—helped by second‐hand clothes dealers, locally woven fabrics, and itinerant tailors. The introduction to Ireland in the 17th century of lace‐making, machine‐knit stockings, silk, and poplin manufacture helped those interested in a luxury image. In the late 18th and early 19th centuries the development of the cotton manufacture allowed even the less wealthy to dress in current fashions.

Some fashions continued to be worn for a long time in rural Ireland. The survival of the tailed coats, knee‐length trews, and felt hats of the 18th‐century gentleman, for example, was used to caricature Irish men in the mid‐19th century. On the other hand long trousers were worn in rural Ireland not long after they were introduced to the fashion world in 1807. Other current fashions were adopted so quickly and fully that they became identified with Ireland. The ‘Irish/Kinsale’ cloak which evolved from the semi‐fitted cloaks fashionable from 1700 to 1730 is a case in point. Similarly the Irish shawl evolved from the Kashmir and Paisley shawls fashionable in the early 19th century. It changed in style in Ireland through the decades until in the 20th century it was the black shawl worn principally by widows.

The greatest breakdown in traditional attitudes to clothing was in the second half of the 19th century, when women in rural as well as urban Ireland began to dress to represent through their clothing the family's position in society. Women thus usurped the role held for centuries by the when fashionable male clothing was conservative, and after the introduction of the sewing machine had enabled women to follow fashions with ease.

Bibliography

Dunlevy, Mairead , Dress in Ireland (1989)

Mairead Dunlevy

dress may meet practical needs such as protection against climate and labour hazards, but it has also been a powerful tool in the maintenance of hierarchy through its reflection of status, and has served to distinguish occupation and faith as well as rank. It additionally mirrors fashion and permits expression of personal taste. Sumptuous clothes are usually worn by the more privileged classes, to enforce authority, flaunt wealth, or merely dissociate themselves from menial labour: medieval and Tudor monarchs could not wear too many jewels or precious metals; outer clothing was slashed or looped to show underlying layers of expensive fabric; impractical footwear and incapacitating sleeves were signs of leisure, if not symbols of dignity. Sumptuary laws may have been framed to protect home industries by bans on foreign imports (clothes, cloth, wool) and internal trade controls, but they considerably enhanced, then maintained, class distinctions. Because of ‘the outragious and excessive apparel of divers peoples against their estate and degree’, dress for servants, handicraftsmen and yeomen, esquires and gentlemen, merchants and burgesses, knights, clerks, and ploughmen was firmly regulated in 1363 via quality of cloth and permitted embellishment. Such distinctions were perpetuated in clauses forbidding velvet caps to any below the degree of knight (8 Eliz. c. 11) or demanding the Sunday wearing of woollen ‘statute’ caps (13 Eliz. c. 19) by all save the nobility, clergy, and London company wardens. Dress, according to Lord Chesterfield in 1745, was a very foolish thing, ‘yet it is a very foolish thing for a man not to be well dressed, according to his rank and way of life’.

In some instances, practicality and symbolic authority merged. The periwig, adopted from French fashion after the Restoration, not only concealed baldness or reduced head-lice (since the natural hair was close-cropped or shaved) but was worn to enhance dignity. Gain in size and artificiality meant that the heavy full-bottomed wig could only be worn on formal or special occasions, or by gentlemen of leisure. Modified for general use, wigs spread slowly throughout the country despite the hazards of inflammability, contagion, moralist attack, and poor durability, but generally decreased in size through the 18th cent. until their demise. Legal wigs, however, as part of traditional professional costume, are only today being slowly abandoned. Combined practicality and authority may also be seen in doctors' white coats and policemen's helmets.

If practical considerations dictated much of working dress, particularly when it remained relatively simple, occupational distinction came through attachment of appropriate emblems (threaded needle, weaver's shuttle), cap or arm badges, apron colour, or the heraldic crest/colours of the family served, while company liveries symbolized competence in a particular skill. Custom grew out of utility, then persisted, partly to prevent workers absconding from their employers, but also from the wearers' desire to maintain their group's recognized trademark. This may be seen today in corporate uniforms (airlines, hotels), identification badges, shoulder-tabs, and arm-bands; regimental and old school ties are merely rose-tinted nostalgia for lost fraternalism. Variations within uniform can denote distinctions of rank, most readily observed within the armed forces.

A prevailing style of dress has become known as being ‘in fashion’, but fashion has been described as a tyrannically democratic force, enforcing conformity to current social or moral conventions. Attack has come from moralists (frequently men rather than women), medical critics concerned about distorted torsos or incipient pneumonia, politicians and economists, aesthetic critics, animal lovers (against fur and feathers), and caricaturists, but with little long-term effect. Individuals have challenged fashion through aggressive nonconformity—Miss Chudleigh, later countess of Bristol, appeared virtually naked as Iphigenia at a 1749 ball—only to find the shock of the new fading because of growing familiarity, and the focus of attention shifting to another part of the body. Fashionable style moved downwards quite quickly. If Thackeray's duchess of Fitzbattleaxe was emulated by Lady Croesus, then Mrs Broadcloth must follow suit; if her, then also Mrs Seedy, her landlady Miss Letsam, and finally Suky the maid. This might produce vulgarization, but it also spurred the duchess to modifications to restore her lead in fashion. Sumptuary laws had long disappeared (1643 saw the last enactment), and class distinctions had been further blurred by the growing custom for the mistress to give her cast-offs to the lady's maid—such well-dressed servants puzzled many foreign visitors whose own countries still enforced sartorial regulations.

Fashion has frequently reflected overseas influences, despite war or trade restrictions: returning crusaders introduced silks and damasks, emphasis on Germanic puffs and slashes yielded to Spanish bombast (padding) and rigid outline as that country's power advanced in the 16th cent., puritan dress had similarities with its Dutch equivalent, and French influence on taste generally was enormous after the Restoration and for most of the 18th cent. The bloomer costume, adopted by some early female emancipators, originated in mid-19th-cent. America, and in the 20th cent., Parisian couture-houses led the way, even if designs were watered down for high-street shops, and the growing trend towards informality and casual wear has lessened their importance. American influence may be seen in the proliferation of baseball caps, for young and old, and jeans for the former.

A. S. Hargreaves

dress / dres/ • v. 1. [intr.] put on one's clothes: Graham showered and dressed quickly | I'll go and get dressed. ∎  wear clothes in a particular way or of a particular type: she's nice-looking and dresses well | (be dressed) he was dressed in jeans and a thick sweater. ∎  [tr.] put clothes on (someone): they dressed her in a white hospital gown. ∎  put on clothes appropriate for a formal occasion: we dressed for dinner every night. ∎  [tr.] design or supply clothes for (a celebrity): for over four decades he dressed the royal family. ∎  [tr.] decorate (something) in an artistic or attractive way: they had dressed the doorframes with sprays of bittersweet. 2. [tr.] treat or prepare (something) in a certain way, in particular: ∎  clean, treat, or apply a dressing to (a wound). ∎  clean and prepare (food, esp. poultry or shellfish) for cooking or eating: [as adj.] (dressed) dressed crab. ∎  add a dressing to (a salad). ∎  apply a fertilizing substance to (a field, garden, or plant). ∎  complete the preparation or manufacture of (leather or fabric) by treating its surface in some way. ∎  smooth the surface of (stone): [as adj.] (dressed) a tower built of dressed stone. ∎  arrange or style (one's own or someone else's hair), esp. in an elaborate way. 3. [tr.] Mil. draw up (troops) in the proper alignment. ∎  [intr.] (of troops) come into such an alignment. 4. [tr.] prepare (an artificial fly) for use in fishing: [as adj.] (dressed) a dressed wet fly. • n. 1. a one-piece garment for a woman or girl that covers the body and extends down over the legs. 2. clothing of a specified kind for men or women: traditional African dress | fig. the underlying theme is recognizable even when it appears in feminist dress. ∎  [as adj.] denoting military uniform or other clothing used on formal or ceremonial occasions: a dress suit. PHRASES: dressed to kill wearing glamorous clothes intended to create a striking impression.dressed to the nines dressed very elaborately.PHRASAL VERBS: dress down dress informally: Sue dressed down in old jeans and a white blouse. dress someone down inf. reprimand someone. dress up dress in smart or formal clothes. ∎  dress in a special costume for fun or as part of an entertainment: he dressed up as a gorilla. dress something up present something in such a way that it appears better than it really is: the company dressed up the figures a little.

dress The clothes of men and women during the biblical periods in Palestine are not described in any detail, but they probably resembled those of neighbouring peoples, of which illustrations exist. They were worn both for warmth and sometimes for their appearance, and out of modesty (Gen. 3: 7), though children before adolescence commonly ran around naked. A man's outer garment was a kind of long robe, which could also serve as a blanket, though it was possible also to change into night attire (perhaps Neh. 4: 23), and not to possess this represented extreme poverty (Job 24: 7). Undergarments supported by the shoulders were also available.

Jesus is described as having a seamless tunic (John 19: 23) which was stripped from him before he was crucified naked, and the unnamed young man who lost his linen cloth (Mark 14: 51–2) during Jesus' arrest must have been wearing a simple garment round his body without a girdle such as Elijah used (2 Kgs. 1: 8), followed by John the Baptist the Baptist (Mark 1: 6). Sandals were generally necessary (Matt. 10: 10), as was a covering over the head. Women wore similar dress to that of men but sometimes also with a veil. There could be some decoration, especially at the time of marriage (Ezek. 16: 10). Persons of rank were expected to dress accordingly, and sackcloth with ashes was prescribed for times of mourning and penitence.

dress †make or put straight or right; prepare, treat (later, in a specific way) XIV; array, equip, attire XIV; line up (troops) XVIII. — (O)F. dresser :- Rom. *dīrectiāre, f. dīrectus DIRECT.
Hence dress sb. †setting right XVI; personal attire XVII.

dress v.
1. draw up (troops) in the proper alignment.

2. (of troops) come into such an alignment.
n. denoting military uniform or other clothing used on formal or ceremonial occasions: a dress suit.
dress ship decorate a ship with flags, for a special occasion.

Dress: see HABIT, RELIGIOUS.

DRESS

DRESS. SeeClothing .

dress see costume .

dress •acquiesce, address, assess, Bess, bless, bouillabaisse, caress, cess, chess, coalesce, compress, confess, convalesce, cress, deliquesce, digress, dress, duchesse, duress, effervesce, effloresce, evanesce, excess, express, fess, finesse, fluoresce, guess, Hesse, impress, incandesce, intumesce, jess, largesse, less, manageress, mess, ness, noblesse, obsess, oppress, outguess, phosphoresce, politesse, possess, press, priestess, princess, process, profess, progress, prophetess, regress, retrogress, stress, success, suppress, tendresse, top-dress, transgress, tress, tristesse, underdress, vicomtesse, yes •Jewess • shepherdess • Borges •battledress • Mudéjares • headdress •protectress • egress • ingress •minidress • nightdress • congress •sundress • procuress • murderess •letterpress • watercress • shirtdress •access