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The frock of my life

I'm so excited I could sing a little song. The reason? I've just bought a dress. I really don't think there is any shopping experience to rival it. And I say that as someone who gets excited about going to the stationery store for a new packet of paperclips.

Of course, the shoe moment is always a very sweet thing, a hat purchase is delectable and a new handbag is like getting a pet, but nothing is as special as buying a dress. Possibly because it is so rare. You just can't find the bloody things.

The ability to design nice, wearable, comfortable, flattering dresses, that you can do up and that don't show your bra - dresses you can wear to work - seems to elude even the great designers.

They can all do the statement dress, the sundress, the Oscars gown and the result dress, but the Living Dress has for too long been the rarest creature on Planet Fashion.

By Living Dress I mean the garment that used to be the very staple of the female wardrobe - a simple thing that you just slip on for hassle-free daywear. You don't see women in them much these days, but I don't think that's because we really prefer the challenge of matching pants or skirts with tops every morning; it's because there just haven't been enough good dresses on offer.

This is beginning to change, though - and interestingly it's women designers who are bringing the Living Dress back. The great 1970s dress doyenne, Diane von Furstenberg, is currently enjoying a huge revival, and local heroine Leona Edmiston anchored her stand-alone label entirely on the dress, with very successful results and lots of international sales.

Maybe it's an Aussie gal thing, actually, because Collette Dinnigan has always been a great proponent of the frock, and the last great dress I bought, before this one, was by Zimmermann.

More recently in New York and London, a whole new swath of woman-designed labels has emerged, based largely on the dress for success. My new frock is by one of them, former model Jane Mayle, who has a gorgeous shop in New York's Nolita.

It's a beautiful thing, this dress, with a delicious hint of flirty French maid in cream lace appliqued onto black crepe. There's a little stretch in the fabric for fit and comfort, and a floating front panel that redefines the word flattering.

I really don't think a man could have designed it. Of course, as I say, male designers can conjure up wonderful dresses - Dolce & Gabbana particularly spring to mind - but they do tend to be those high-octane numbers, relevant only to a small set of limo-riding, size six lifestyle princesses. Say, Naomi Campbell and the Hilton sisters, and then start thinking hard for some more examples. I really think it takes a woman to design a dress that works for the real-life gal.

I don't know whether this is because only another woman understands the very particular imperfections and insecurities of the female form and psyche, or simply because the Living Dress is the most quintessentially feminine of garments.

And I'm sure this is the reason I get so excited when I buy one - it makes me feel so deliciously back in touch with my inner femme. I spend so much of my life charging around in pant suits and practical shoes, I sometimes feel less than a woman, which is a shame, because a woman is such a wonderful thing to be.

When I watch old movies with such ultrafemmes as Elizabeth Taylor in her silk underslips and Marilyn Monroe in curve-hugging day dresses, it makes me yearn for a kidney-shaped dressing table and a down powder puff.

Of course, I want to hold onto my desk and my laptop, too - I'll just wear a dress while I'm doing it.

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By Maggie Alderson

[original article]

Posted by thinkum at August 24, 2004 01:08 PM