Open Writing

…I might have grown up with a different attitude to dress if I had been tall and slim. Choosing a dress is a nuisance to me; I abhor shopping for clothes, so the title I chose for this piece of writing certainly gave me pause for thought….

Eileen Perrin writes on the subject that occupies many a woman’s thoughts.

To read more of Eileen’s engaging words please click on As Time Goes By in the menu on this page.

DRESS by Eileen Perrin

About the age of twelve, in 1934 or 1935, having seen all their films, I was a firm fan of Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, and had come to the conclusion that the most absolutely perfect colour for me was pale hyacinth mauve and the dress made preferably of layers on layers of floaty chiffon.

Ever since then I have gone through years of anguish trying to alter and adapt dresses to fit better, having failed miserably to create my own exactly as I wanted it on the sewing machine, which in my opinion is inappropriately named ‘a girl’s best friend’.

Looking at a finished garment I would think, just as my Mother would say - ‘Yes, it fits where it touches’, and realising how right my mother-in-law’s advice, the warning - ‘You can measure it twice but you only get to cut it once.’ She had the saying from her father-in-law who was a carpenter.

To most women a dress means a joy, but it can be a worry. The dress a triumph or a disaster. To see someone in the duplicate of a dress bought years before which you still have in your wardrobe is a comfort because you realise it’s not only you who hang on to old favourites. But - to see such a dress in OXFAM priced £2 is very sobering.

The trouble with man-made fibres like Courtaulds Courtelle and the subsequent nylon and polyester is that it never shrinks or fades,and it never wears out, yet of course, if of simple style it can always be considered ‘in fashion’.

According to the news media Barbara Cartland never threw away, much less gave away, any of her shocking-pink dresses. Some of them, designed by couturiers like Hartnell are now worth thousands of pounds.

If we wear a dress we hope it suits us, fits well and ‘does something for us’, gives us confidence and peace of mind. But I think it would be nice to be oblivious to the dictates of fashion pages in the magazines you see at the hairdresser’s, but, trapped under the dryer we are a captive audience.

In these days even when there seems to be a “free-for-all” choice in fashion we are still faced with the current trend as the early office girls come out in throngs from London tube stations at five to nine in the mornings. The latest fashion seems always to be black trouser suits, or skirts with a split back seam, or on schoolgirls the popular mini.

Through years of changing fashion women have always worn dresses, whether called shifts, frocks or gowns until the advent of women like Chopin’s mistress George Sands who liked to wear the trousers. Many trouser-suits today are de rigeur in the office but trousers were certainly never countenanced in the Civil Service or Local Government offices for quite a few years after the last war.

I used to have occasional inspirations to make a dress for one of the grandchildren that would be individual and unique. I remember the palest shell-pink pure silk dress given to me by my mother-in-law, acquired from the lady who employed her as a Nanny. I took it to pieces intending to make delicate baby dresses. Unfortunately the babies grew faster than the products of my sewing machine and their mothers seemed to prefer baby ‘cat-suits’ or the stiffest of denim ‘bib and braces’ outfits to any dainty silk dress, so no encouragement there.

One summer in Dorset at a village street fete I bought a Palestinian dress in linen with border designs embroidered in red, yellow and blue with tasselled cords from the waist. That was to have been a sun dress, but ended up as a readily-accepted present by the Drama teacher at my grand-daughters’ school.

Another I acquired was a long tie-dyed thick cotton dress which one day will no doubt end up as garden cushions, but as at present we are well provided for it too lies fallow in a cupboard.

I might have grown up with a different attitude to dress if I had been tall and slim. Choosing a dress is a nuisance to me; I abhor shopping for clothes, so the title I chose for this piece of writing certainly gave me pause for thought.

So there we are. Dress - what is fashion? Is it all in the mind?

Dress - does it have to hit you right between the eyes to be noticed like Mrs. Shilling’s Ascot hats ?

Should it be discreetly attractive with simple lines and a good fit, chosen with good taste, so leaving the wearer comfortably relaxed to pursue and enjoy a conversation with thoughts well removed from worry over what impression is being made by the dress being worn, or do I mean trousers ?