The Bridgerton EffectMarch 25th, 2021
I have been watching current fashion trends and wondering if we will see a Bridgerton effect, and when we do how will it look? Will we see princess line dresses in powder blue satin from the early sixties or frilly white dresses with pastel sashes such as I wore to parties while at infant school? Both have featured in the Regency parallel universe inhabited by the world that is Bridgerton, based on the novels by Julia Quinn. With its modern storyline, strong female characters and narrative-led colour-blind casting.
There has been a long and honourable history of fashion responding to the latest film or TV show. Remember Annie Hall (1977) and all those baggy pants, waistcoats and trilby hats? Or more recently, catwalks adorned with red cloaks in response to Handmaid’s Tale (2017) and clouds of Tulle from that pink dress worn by Jodie Comer in Killing Eve (2018)?
Ellen Mironjnick, costume designer for Bridgerton told Vogue magazine (Dec. 2020) that this was a period drama that needed to feel ‘scandalous and modern’. Taking the Regency silhouette of the 1810s she applied a Christian Dior aesthetic, with the V&A’s 2019 exhibition Christian Dior: Designer of Dreams as her starting point. There were to be no bonnets, that would hide women’s faces and no muslin, that made women look like Greek statues but quickly crumples into a limp rag. She also subtly changed the necklines of the women’s dresses, replacing the straight line with an elegant scoop shape that is far more flattering.
Updating a period style to give a modern and acceptable aesthetic is a tricky business to pull off. Maintaining the period feel while also allowing the audience to identify with the characters and thus be drawn into the narrative demands walking a fine line. Mirojnick is an experienced Hollywood costume designer with films such as Behind the Candelabra (2013), for which she won an Emmy, The Greatest Showman (2017) and Malificent: Mistress of Evil (2019) under her belt.
As well as subtly altering necklines and head shapes Mirojnick also used colour to emphasise the up-to-date feel of the characters, adding visual emphasis to their narratives. As eldest daughter of the ‘old money’ Bridgerton family Daphne began the series in pastel blues, moving to more dusky colours and deeper tones of silver and blue. As Mironjnick puts it ‘she begins as a porcelain doll and becomes a woman’. In contrast, daughters of the ‘nouveau riches’ Featherington family were given sizzling oranges, greens and purples. As their pushy mother (played by Polly Walker) puts it at one point, ‘I need them to stand out from the crowd and to be noticed if they are to make advantageous marriages’. You will have to watch the series to see if she succeeds.
Both families – Bridgertons and Featheringtons – have strong mothers each given a personal style. For Lady Bridgerton (played by Ruth Gemmell) her look is more 1950s, nicely pre-dating the early 60s feel of her daughters, but still with the Regency silhouette. My one quibble is with Lady Featherington, whose silhouette is more figure hugging and Edwardian in feel, more 1910 than 1810. Was this to show off her figure, to emphasise her hips, which barely feature in the Regency line? Or to take attention away from her décolletage? Added to the large garish prints of her fabrics is this a reminder of her aspirational status?
The real matriarch of this society is the Queen (played by Golda Rosheuvel) and she has a delightful eccentricity, after all no one at court would dare to criticise her, so why not have some fun with her look? Her gowns were kept to the formal style worn by the real Queen Charlotte – all the better to set off her outrageous wigs. These were extraordinary, sometimes high, sometimes wide, in a range of tones from hard white to gunmetal grey, but always precisely curled and sculptural. Each added to a superior demeanour accompanied by her withering put-downs.
Bridgerton has caused outrage among adherents to a certain style of period drama, but that is not what this series is. The description above may make the semiotics of the costumes sound a little crude, but by carefully setting up their rules and parameters in advance Mironjnick has been able to create a complete look, one that resonates throughout and gives us a coherent and believable universe. The story is not about Regency heroines with little personal agency waiting with bated breath for the right man, but young women learning to challenge their status. It is a modern story of kicking back against accepted norms and creating your own path; one that not only includes love, but also partnership and agency.
As I write this piece the week’s fashion pages arrive in the newspaper, including a feature on next season’s dresses by Reformation. Their collection includes several styles with low scoop necks as featured by Mironjnick; so maybe the Bridgertoneffect has already arrived!
— Joanna Jarvis
The Joys and Challenges of the Virtual ConferenceMarch 25th, 2021
For the past year, like many organisations, the Dress in Context Research Centre has had to move to an online presence. We had a successful online symposium in August looking at Dress in a Time of Crisis, but now we’re facing the challenge of a much bigger and longer conference, and I’ve been reflecting on the pros and cons of the virtual approach.
The great advantage of a virtual conference is that we can welcome people from all over the world. CCD has always attracted an international audience, but this year the response from other countries is more marked than ever. We have received submissions from every continent – apart from Antarctica (maybe we’ll get a late request). Given that we also have an awe-inspiring range of topics, this should guarantee some excellent discourse. It does mean that there will be issues around different time zones, and of course, we’ll do our best to factor these into the programming.
By contrast, the significant downside is the absence of real-world contact. There won’t be the usual social opportunities that generally form a significant aspect of conferences, and while this has meant a saving in conference fees (we are only charging a nominal fee to cover our expenses), and less work for the committee, the lack will be felt by most of us. The conference dinner, for example, will surely be missed. These things are peripheral, however. The purpose of an academic conference is to disseminate research, to engage in academic dialogue with peers, and the absence of a social side shouldn’t matter. Except it does. The opportunity for a brief exchange of ideas over coffee; the conversation over dinner that might grow into a future collaboration; the excitement of a student who gets to talk to names they have previously only come across in publications: these are often the highlight of a conference, and what delegates take away.
At CCD we have given much thought to how we might mitigate against this absence. We’ve been devising alternative activities – some (though not all) may involve alcohol – and we’ll be sharing them over the coming weeks. We still haven’t come up with an alternative to the serendipitous encounter, though. If anyone has ideas, please let us know.
The conference will be hosted on Zoom, something we have all become familiar with over the last year – both professionally and socially. Zoom has enabled us to keep in touch with friends and family, to continue our work lives safely, and to hold events like CCD. Unfortunately, as with many aspects of life, there is a price to be paid. I think we’ve all been surprised by how tiring online meetings can be. After all, we don’t have to move from our desk – or kitchen table, or bed, depending on personal arrangements – the meeting comes to us. The problem is that online encounters operate in a different way to real life, and the nonverbal behaviours that have evolved to make interaction with others easier become overemphasised and intrusive in a virtual world. In real world exchanges, we rely on a raft of nonverbal cues to ensure we understand each other; but these are much harder to send and receive in an online situation, and consequently, we end up working much harder to achieve the same level of understanding. Similarly, because we are constantly staring at the screen, we can’t escape eye contact. In real life eye contact is intermittent, and we feel uncomfortable if it becomes continuous. And perhaps even more stressful is being faced with an unremitting image of ourselves (though I’m told you can switch this off). Research tells us that when faced with an image of our self, for example, in a mirror, we have a tendency to self-evaluate (and as you might expect, women do this more than men). This kind of self-focus tends to be negative, and therefore distracting and ultimately, dispiriting.
While you may think this makes for depressing reading, there is one upside that I haven’t mentioned yet, and that is the absence of the what to wear dilemma. This is particularly so, perhaps for doctoral researchers who are new to the conference world. I have often seen online discussions around what is appropriate conference dress – not too formal, not too casual, definitely not too short. In a Zoom conference, all that disappears; we can only be seen from the shoulders up, so, as we’ve seen from social media, anything goes. The news may get even better over time. The growth in virtual fashion allows us to inhabit and share images of different outfits, wear them only once, and make them as outlandish as we please. This is a move that is very attractive to younger Instagram users, who can clothe themselves in an array of different outfits, yet at the same time salve their sustainability consciences. Recent advances in digital fashion mean that there will soon come a time when we can clothe ourselves in outfits as exotic and exaggerated as we please. Perhaps use virtual clothes to curate a new and exciting digital identity. In the meantime, we might want to think about how we can enhance our image at conferences. Given the shoulder-up view, we might want to focus on a hat. One of the conference papers considers the importance and significance of hats – perhaps we should all take notice!
— Anne Boultwood
Academic Conferences: Why Can’t they be more like Comedy Shows?February 24th, 2021
(written by a researcher and music fan who has spent far too much time alone in Lockdowns 0.1, 0.2 and 0.3)
As a tutor, student and early career researcher studying towards a Ph.D., I often find myself questioning and challenging the many accepted academic conventions persist in academia. As a practice-based Ph.D. student studying the visual arts, with a professional background in theatre costume its often my natural position to challenge ‘why’ certain practices endure. My confirmation (mid-point review) on my Ph.D. evidencing my questioning of academic conventions. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Fm54AiSk_c
As lecturers and academics there is a certain amount of ‘showman’ and ‘show-woman-ship’ required to stand in front of a crowd of people and talk in depth on a subject. MS Teams and Zoom don’t really allow for this level of performance and performativity to be evident or legible by the audience.
Recently, in my teaching, like many lecturers and academics I have had to evolve new practices to deliver content online. Currently, online, my entrance onto MS Teams, within my teaching evidencing a more “Zebedee-esque” ‘popping up,’ or a peculiar ‘emergence’ onto the screen with a panoply of student’s initials to greet me.
So, I started to think if music would pump the crowd (students) prior to the session beginning?
Having attended comedy shows at the Edinburgh Fringe, and comedy events around the UK, I started to consider ‘how’ comedians enter the stage prior to their stint, and what devices they use to ‘prime’ and ‘pump’ their audience. ‘Extensive, scholarly and rigorous research’, well maybe a ‘ping around’ on Google (other search engines are available) revealed an article in The Guardian Newspaper in 2014, entitled ‘Stand-ups on their entrance music: ‘I play it loud to drown out the screaming in my head’
The piece, noted that each of the comedians featured, adopted a different approach to their ‘entrance’ music, however each of them outlined how their choice of music was chosen with care; some reinforcing the themes of their show, some because of the anarchy the music represented, and others were playing themselves onto the stage- just to add to the anxiety of performing at the Fringe festival.
Contemplating the comedians entrance track and my own rather un-assuming entrance onto the virtual screen in my teaching I started to muse on what track I might select to make my entrance on to MS Teams. Researching comedy entrance music online revealed that Spotify has a playlist entitled ‘Comedy Night Intro Tracks’ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4FbDecrOV6IkpviRbQSjGq.
So I thought, great! This should be fun. I had a zip through and the track-list featured tracks including, Happy by Pharrell Williams, Get Lucky by DJ’s Incorporated, surely it should be the Daftpunk version? I started to muse about the situations where as academics the entrance to a ‘stage’ is an obligatory part of event.
Enter the academic conference…
These erudite and often terrifying, but essential events, which as an ‘emerging researcher’ continue to terrify me, have a lot in common with the comedians set. The chair is the compere and there are 20 minutes within which to impress the audience, in the hope they won’t heckle. The task, to communicate our ideas, thoughts and research findings to an audience wanting to be, if not entertained, edified. Crucially, we have to evidence rigour, knowledge and expertise in a subject which manages to maintain the audience’s attention for 20 minutes plus questions. The format of the academic conference, is well-established but with the move to online and virtual events, is there an opportunity to challenge these conventions?
The omnipresent fear that I experience before delivering a paper at a conference parallels the comedian, Natasia Demetriou’s terror prior to her entrance at a comedy show. To evidence this terror, at one conference, I had to wear a full- length skirt to hide my knees which were literally knocking together because of the terror I was experiencing. Demetriou quotes that her choice of ‘Roar’ by Katy Perry to make her entrance at the Fringe in 2014 was a strategy admitting that, ‘I’ll be so ridiculously terrified it’s nice to have something so loud because it drowns the noise of the screaming in my head’ echoes my experience at conferences.
The idea of having an entrance track that, a) drowns out the ‘screaming in my head’, and b) masks the sound of my knees knocking together was appealing.
So began the search…
Which song? As a long-time fan of dance and electronic music, I liked the idea of something upbeat and high energy, but I research historical dress and costume. The seeming disconnect between these worlds, the gentility of historical dress and costuming, and the sweaty, sticky experience of the dance tent seemed contradictory.
Last year in 2020, I had the opportunity to present at Critical Costume which was supposed to be in Oslo, but like many events, it moved online. The speakers, were asked to film the presentation of our paper, creating a video which attendees would view, and then discuss in ‘working groups.’ As we were editing the presentation, my friend helping me edit asked if I wanted music… https://costumeagency.com/project/louise-chapman/
In Culture, Costume and Dress, 2021, should my paper be accepted I am not sure if I will be brave enough to embrace the entrance track, and if I do, how will I select it, will it be a track to drown out the screaming in my head and the knocking of my knees?
One thing I do know is that the conference format is overdue an overhaul- we have to be brave- step into the unknown. Speaking about my music and conference musings to some member of the convening panel, I asked the members what their entrance track might be?
Dr. Sian Hindle: ‘Original’ by Leftfield
Dr. Joanna Jarvis: ‘Sound the Trumpet’ Purcell and ‘Lady from the Sea’ by Seth Lakeman
Dr. Poppy Wilde: ‘Jus a Rascal’ Dizzie Rascal
Dr. Sandra Costa: ‘The Final Countdown’ by Europe
Sophie Johnson: ‘The Greatest Showman’ from the Greatest Showman Film Soundtrack
Louise Chapman: ‘Go’, by the Chemical Brothers
I am not sure what their choices reveals about our team? I will leave you to ponder…
Other suggestions from researchers in the School of Media (BCU) include: ‘Simply the Best’ by Tina Turner,
‘Future Drugs’ by The Armed, ‘Psycho Killer’ by Talking Heads, ‘Rock n’ Roll Star’ by Oasis
and ‘Crown on the Ground’ by Sleigh Bells.
What would your entrance track be?
— Louise Chapman