In Fashion: In Defense of Puff Sleeves

I recently caught up with an  article by Hadley Freeman that starts out to answer why it is now fashionable to wear dresses that look like “a load of old curtains.” The article refers specifically to one dress, but in doing so discusses the current proliferation of puff sleeves, ruffles, and floral prints on runways and shop floors. In the article Freeman claims these design trends are a combination of Sloaney nostalgia and a silhouette over-correction from bodycon dresses. I have to agree that on first look these dresses have some of the ‘Sloaney’ modesty and nostalgia for an idealized past. It seems, to be sure, no coincidence that the styles referenced in these dresses borrow elements from styles of a time when technological progress was changing society at a dizzying rate, and income inequality rivalled current levels.

However, I think there is something deeper at play in the broader trend of Victorian and Edwardian-inspired outfits and the way designers are employing this sartorial symbolism. Without taking a close look at how these references are being used and repurposed, we risk trivializing the meaning embedded in clothing. One of pop culture’s most famous curtain dresses (literally) is surely that of Maria in The Sound of Music and the use of “curtain” to describe the style is telling: in many ways it’s easy to see that character as a symbol of overly perfect domesticity and a kind of joyful innocence.  This is to some extent where the accusation of ‘Sloaney-ness’ comes in; the modern “curtain dresses” are decidedly modest and referencing tradition. However this modesty does not necessitate the wearer being a delicate English rose. The modern version of has little to do with girlish naïveté, domesticity, or a life that revolves around men. Designers are using traditional cues of femininity in a variety of ways – from casual prairie dresses to haute couture Victoriana – reflecting a shift in how women feel most confident and how we understand what it means to be feminine and empowered. All these florals, frills, and bows in their excess and exuberance provide an opportunity to explore the contemporary role of traditional ideas about femininity, and not just in fashion but in culture more broadly.

In the most obvious way the re-adoption of the design elements of Victorian and Edwardian clothing (the common thread among these dresses) demonstrates a dramatic shift from clothes that exist to show off a woman’s body as an object to be sexualized and desired, to dresses that cover much of her form and instead take on a new shape entirely constructed from fabric. And, crucially, unlike actual period dress, the shapes created today are often a far cry from corseted Gibson Girls that the styles draw some original inspiration from. Outfits from many high-end designers play with these symbols of the supposed epitome of femininity while refusing to pander to society’s idea of the perfect female body, and in fact the feminine design features have outgrown themselves to make clichés of physical femininity impossible to see. In one Vivetta dress, for example, the layers of ruffles overtake the physical form. In some of Simone Rocha’s dresses it may be fair to say there is no silhouette at all; while in others a traditional silhouette is alluded to but exaggerated to hide the figure. One imagines that one can look like whatever one wants underneath that fabric. In a voluminous skirt, high collar, and puff sleeve, a woman’s body is not what we are looking at and in fact we hardly can. They are more like a luxurious and playful amour, a defence against the male gaze and a total rejection of I-watch-him-watching-me notions of sexiness and beauty.

These ensembles are soft and frilly, but also undeniably bold. The dresses in question take what might otherwise be part of a “prim and proper” way of dressing and exaggerate it: high ruffled necks, long sleeves with cuffs have a life of their own, lace that seems to overflow from seams, and oversized collars. Designers are subtly playing this out in different ways. One Alexander McQueen outfit has taken this trend in the brand’s own way, creating puff sleeves of pink satin that are simultaneously soft and aggressive: Victoriana meets power suit. High street brands like Zara and H&M have quickly picked up on and put their own spin on oversized puff sleeves and ruffled embellishments. Simone Rocha creates huge peter pan collars, making a prim formal feature almost mock the idea of restraint inherent in a neatly pressed narrow traditional collar. In one of these white shirts, puff sleeves included and paired with a sequined bustier, the ensemble demands that women be allowed throw off the idea that traditional femininity is in opposition to sexuality, while also refusing to allow either to be performed for a male gratification.

Girlish innocence is likewise incorporated and promptly pulled apart, for example adding ribbons, bows, and ruffles and flounces to create larger-than-life forms. Designers like Erdem play with features like scaled-up bows that seem more appropriate for a giant’s head. Ribbons and bows are symbols of feminine childhood as well as frivolity (think clichés of Marie Antoinette’s excessiveness and lack of concern for the real world). In typical form, small the bows tied into hair or as dress embellishments are a sign of youthfulness, innocence, and irrationality, as well as the accompanying ignorance, and dependency of childhood. Likewise to think of a ruffled, full-skirted dress is to think of a Victorian-era woman or in contemporary contexts, something a mother would put her small child in as “Sunday best.” However looking at the neon confections of Molly Goddard is to see a subversive woman who will not be held back by expectations. Bows, lace, and ruffles were once ubiquitous on women’s clothing (at least among those who could afford it) at a time in history when women had little to no rights or power and were expected to be submissive and idle. These should by now be hackneyed stereotypes of womanhood, but to be traditionally “feminine” is still frequently associated with these social structures and expectations of women’s behaviour. Blown up to larger-than-life proportions, however, the bows and ruffles created by contemporary designers are camp par-excellence, and in exaggerating the cliché of girlishness and frivolity these designers invert their meaning and mocks the sweetness and innocence implied in a childish hair ribbon.

Now-ubiquitous florals are equally disconcerting in seeming outdated, jarring us from simply accepting them at face value; even more so when coupled with exaggerated embellishments, clashing or unexpected colours, and nonconformist shapes of the dresses. even more so when coupled with the exaggerated embellishments, clashing or unexpected colours, and nonconformist shapes of the dresses. Vivetta, like the dress illustrating Freeman’s article, often uses cartoonish renderings of florals and butterflies in candy-sweet pastel hues; in this style the motifs are far removed from reality and overtly playing with references to girlish childhood doodles. Miu Miu’s resort collection is full of floral prints and lace collars, but assembled in such a way that they throw us off guard and refuse to be sweet and docile. In fact, the use of pattern and materials is perhaps the most obvious (and wearable) way to show the duality of these clothes. Other designers play with our expectations of pattern in dramatic ways, using bright patterns or showy materials that can wander into the territory of showgirl. Batsheva, something of a frontwoman for the “curtain dress” movement, creates some of her prairie-chic dresses in neon animal print, lamé, and reversible sequins: Little House on the Prairie meets disco or drag. These bright, bold patterns and clashing colour combinations are purposefully attention-grabbing. They are decidedly “feminine” but in a way that would never blend in with the wallpaper, instead worn by women to claim their space in the world on their own terms.

Re-imagined, blown up, and assembled in a thoroughly contemporary way, all these “feminine,” “old fashioned,” and “girlish” features, just like the drapery-esque and cutesy florals used in many cases, need not be read as direct signs of nostalgia for the original reference point. Instead, their (often campy) revival is a renegotiation of how we understand and perform femininity. Granted that the freedom and excess of couture makes it easier to read the trend, even the dress pictured in the original article should not be taken as a literal desire to go backwards in time. Women are increasingly refusing to be boxed in by narrow definitions of what it means to be feminine, strong, beautiful, or bold. Femininity, sexiness, and strength go hand-in-hand, and women are finding new ways to express these feelings without reference to male-dominated cultural expectations by inverting and reclaiming these symbols.