After two years the Fêtes Galantes were finally allowed to take place and I had the opportunity to participate for the first (and definitely not the last) time. I went with my good friends Gertraud (@schneiderfips), Marlene (@thestyleofmarleen) and Kathi who doesn’t have any linkable social media. Gertraud and Kathi went by plane but Marlene …
Has it really been almost a year since I’ve updated? Really? That went fast. I’m ashamed. Life comes (and goes) quickly, and seems to go even more quickly when you’re juggling…
Has it really been almost a year since I’ve updated? Really? That went fast. I’m ashamed. Life comes (and goes) quickly, and seems to go even more quickly when you’re juggling…
Bonjour. Comment allez-vous? Did something happen last episode? Something dramatic? Like someone getting stabbed? Ah, oui. Fabien got a knife in his chest and we start with him pulling said knife out. He yells for the guards and collapses. It appears the guards found him and he is brought to Claudine. He will live, for it appears his heart might not be where it is supposed to be… would explain a thing or two. Mama-Gaston, in the meanwhile, rushes through the forests of Versailles, chased by two guards on horseback. She runs and runs, while dramatic music plays in the background, and is thrown to the ground by the riders. I guess the whole thing was supposed to be somewhat thrilling and probably read nicely on the script, but is a little flat on screen. She is brought to Versailles’ own inquisition rooms, aka the dark chambers Fabien lurks about, and greeted with a good slap by the King himself. Louis XIV wasn’t really a violent person, but he was indeed close to hand out a few punches during his life. I don’t know of any mentions that he actually did it, but there are mentions of him loosing his temper on several occasions. Once, for example, he was rather enraged as he saw how a servant pocketed some noms at Marly while clearing the table and nearly got violent. Our Louis here is, of course, quite interested in what the hell Mama-Gaston was thinking. It was for her son, she says, and he returns she will be decapitated in front of all the court, throwing a warning in that Louis has opened the gates to an enemy that he does not know and aims to destroy him. She beckons him closer and he actually does so to hear a name…. Satan. Oh dear, I think as we return from M83’s Outro-intro. From Satan to God, we are in the chapel with Mademoiselle de Clermont and Monsieur de Cassel as both are joined in marriage. The attendance is not too vast and so is Sophie’s joy at becoming Madame la Duchesse de Cassel. Someone that does not look happy either is the Chevalier. He enter’s Monsieur’s bedchamber and casts a glance at the bed. No wife. Good. A bit of a smile returns to his noble features as he is told the wedding night was uneventful, but vanishes again as he is pointed to a bit of paper on a table. It’s his garment bill and it appears he ordered quite a bit. Monsieur is not pleased…. which I do find a little odd… a little out of character even…. Monsieur’s ‘wasting of money’ was notorious and he never really bothered too much about it. He spent money on himself, on his friends, on his Chevalier…. Liselotte and the new Duchesse de Cassel stroll the corridors and talk of a certain wedding night. Sophie looks like she hopes he own will be just as successful and she left in peace. La Montespan is there too and joined by Madame Scarron. The child is ill. The Marquise shows no interest in returning to her rooms, but rises eventually… from her arm-chair. Fabien is back on his feet and releases Gaston from his cell. The latter inquires if the poisoner has been found and encounters his own mother. She did it all for him, she says, he can’t quite believe she is serious with it. The King arrives at la Montespan’s apartments and inquires after his daughter. He stops in front of the door and…. have you noticed what they do door-wise this season? How certain people do not open them themselves and have them opened? This is a nice etiquette reference. The King did not open any doors himself, they were opened for him, and this extends to his courtiers. If the King or certain high-ranking courtiers entered a room, both sides of the doors were opened, for lower ranking people only one side is opened…. if they manage that, why don’t they pay more attention to other matters of etiquette I wonder? Like addressing. I am sure I have mentioned it before, but it’s not too difficult and we are at Versailles, where etiquette dictates everything. It’s beyond me why Monsieur and his Madame/s are only referred to as Highness when Royal Highness is correct. A small detail, only one more word, but it means a lot. I think historical Monsieur would be furious if someone forgot the royal in front of the highness when addressing him…. (They did this already in season one and I did not get their motivation back then either. There is no reason not to add the royal and surely they must have noticed that all references call him Royal Highness…. Some of you probably couldn’t care less about it, but there are just as many that do care about the details.) Back to Louis in Montespan’s chambers. Claudine is there too and informs our King the child appears to have smallpox. Smallpox is a serious matter that did cost many their lives. Our King had it too. He got it at the age of nine and was in critical condition for quite some time. As he was still recovering, Philippe got it too and nearly did not survive it. The disease is highly contagious and spreads quickly via direct contact with the infected person, their clothes, bedding, and pretty much everything that came into contact with them. Bontemps suggests Louis should go for a ride, to get some fresh air, and the latter wishes to be joined by his brother. Dramatic music and nice looking shots of servants fumigating the palace in order to clean the air. I do like how the courtiers just carry on with whatever they were doing. Gaston joins them. He is dolled up again and washed the blood off his face, but not received as he wished for. Cassel tells him he has no place among them anymore. Which again is a nice reference as to how a whole family could be disgraced if one member did not act as they should have. It did not need poison and murder for it, sometimes a simple disagreement with the wrong person could do the trick and the fortune of a whole family was ruined. Cassel leaves his new wife and noble friends to have a bit of a chat with Thomas. The latter apparently knows all about the former and blackmails him into reporting on the King. Monsieur Bontemps makes his way to Monsieur in order to inform him of the wishes of his brother. Philippe has other plans, involving Thomas, and Liselotte suggests to go hunting with Louis instead. She impresses him thus with her knowledge about various forest inhabitants. That woman was really into hunting and this brought her into the good graces of the King. Louis enjoyed how she actually loved to participate in the hunt instead of following it in a carriage as other noble ladies did. He looks rather jolly and impressed as Liselotte chases after a boar. Fabien is occupied with Mama-Gaston as the King hunts. She looks quite bloody already and Fabien intends to make her even more so in order to spill the beans, but suggests she might spill them if allowed to see her son. In the chamber’s of Madame de Montespan, Claudine does her best to treat the smallpox. The Marquise does not really put too much trust into Claudine. After all, what does this peasant woman know about life at court and how smallpox scars can ruin a bright future? Hm, considering that a lot of people at court actually had smallpox and were left with scars, this includes the King himself, the skin of our show characters is way too perfect. In Monsieur’s rooms, Thomas is getting a bit of a dancing lesson from Philippe and both are spotted by a certain Chevalier. He sweeps in, all huffy, and sweeps out even more huffy to join a card table, where he loses quite a bit and puts his losses on Monsieur’s account. I dare say this is something he would actually do… but perhaps not in this dimension. Back to our merry hunting party. Liselotte entertains the King with stories of her adventures as everyone’s attention turns to the dogs. They discovered something in the forest. It’s the dead Jacques. Our King mourns the loss of his gardener, who had become a bit of a father-figure to him, alone in a salon. Listening to the same tune over and over again. (Le Labyrinthe by Marin Marais. The labyrinth references are strong again. I suppose someone wants to tell us that our King is stuck in such a thing and desperately tries to get out of it, but instead only gets in deeper and lost. Not knowing whether to turn left or right, back or forth, and scared to find out with might await him around the next corner.) The guards change outside the palace. It is morning and Philippe awoken by a hand belonging to Monsieur Colbert, who informs Philippe of a matter concerning the Chevalier. Said Chevalier lies snoring on a table, having gambled away a whole lot of Monsieur’s money. I do try to stay calm now as I see the Chevalier flying inside Monsieur’s rooms, but it is hard. Let’s look at it before I start my rant… The Chevalier is thrown inside by Monsieur and lands on the floor. Monsieur goes into a rage about the loss of money, slaps the Chevalier, who then head buds Monsieur. Regretting it at once. Is pushed against a wall by Monsieur, who then throws him on the floor, all the while strangling him. The Chevalier reaches in defence for a candlestick, after having bitten Monsieur’s arm, and Monsieur strides out to return with a rapier in his hand. Liselotte jumps in to put an end to it and the Chevalier rambles on about Monsieur doing bed-sport with someone. I guess he means Thomas. Jesus. Seriously. I can’t even. I guess the whole thing makes (somewhat) sense for the show characters, but I want to slam my head against a wall. This scene touched me, but not as the writers might have expected. I find it ridiculous. I find it ridiculous and an offence to the Chevalier how he is written as such a good-for-nothing coward. That man was a fighter. He received praise, was called a hero for his bravery. He was elegant and a great master at manipulation. All I see here is a love-sick idiot that our historical Chevalier would have destroyed without blinking once. The characters of Monsieur and the Chevalier have been twisted to an extend that kills my joy. Where is the merry fabulously dressed Monsieur? Who is this raging ball of anger? Where is my awesome mind twisting Chevalier? Why on earth did they twist their personalities so much? Why did they make Monsieur so butch and why did they make the Chevalier so much of an idiot? I need a break…. (Really, the actors do a fab job…. but I can’t be polite about how those characters have been written this season. It’s the script that is the issue, not the actors or acting.) In possession of a fresh cup of tea, I hit play and see we are in the gardens. The coffin of Jacques is lowered into a grave and Louis looks like he would like to join it. I suddenly wonder what about the Dauphin? How is he? Is he coping after being kidnapped and dragged away from papa and mama? How does his hair look? Will we ever know? (No. We won’t. It is a little like it never happened.) Fabien and Bontemps walk through the palace. After my previous ranting, I have to say it is always nice to see how they included that Versailles is still a building-side by adding scaffolding here and there. Fabien and Bontemps discuss how Jacques might have died and who...
Our most extravagant gown yet! A historical silhouette featuring cascading tiers of ruffles, modernized by a slit up the leg and decorated with pastel flowers and bows. She's a gown designed to by worn by modern day Marie Antoinette, as she nibbles pastel macarons, adds an extra feather into her bouffant, and generally has the time of her life! Exquisitely romantic gown with 3 tiers of cascading ruffles New Mademoiselle silhouette is inspired by southern belle gowns worn by Scarlet O'Hara in Gone With The Wind Dream of Versailles print - a soft pastel toile depicting blousy florals and scenes from the chateau Layered organza skirt with huge volume Boned bodice Full lining Bow adornments for girly flair
The term "redingote" really refers to both a male and female type of garment; this post will concern itself with the latter. The word itself is derived from the English "riding coat". Originally, the redingote was a coat which was used out of doors. In the early 18th century it was a bulky type of clothing; this is typical of a fashion which was originally adopted by women for its practicality's sake - and then evolved. It was not until the last two decades of the 18th century that the redingote gown became a fashion statement in itself. By this time it was closely fitted to the waist. As with a good deal of ladies' fashion it was inspired by men's fashion. As a garment is was an incredibly versatile style. It could be used both for more sporty activities such as hunting or promenading and for society gatherings. A redingote was intended to be worn over a corset, a skirt and a petticoat; the skirt itself was quite voluminous. This large skirt gave it the gown-like appearance that made it acceptable in the salons as well as outdoors. Occasionally, the petticoat was separate from the skirt. Some redingotes were cut open in the front to show off the skirt underneath. Redingote of violet taffeta, 1787 End of the 1780's Generally, a redingote gown was cut with long sleeves. Several aspects of the male fashion reappeared in the female counterpart. Ruffles at the end of the sleeves as well as a prominent collar were both traditionally male. Also, it was common for a redingote was double-breasted; most people recognize the cravat of 18th century male costumes. A similar type of garment was fashioned to go with the redingote. Depending on whether the wearer used her redingote gown for a more formal event or during her leisure hours, a train could occasionally be attached. The types of fabric also illustrates the versatility of the style. Everything from delicate silks to more enduring wool could be used. This dress is c. 1790 and is made from silk and cotton. It is one of the less formal redingote gowns which has neither embroidery nor train: The decoration was mainly centered around large buttons and cuffs and collars in contrasting colours. The redingote worn at court would often be adorned with embroidery; this would be delicate embroidery compared to the larger pieces seen on other court gowns. The green redingote beneath is a perfect example of how a redingote could be "dressed up". This magnificent Dutch redingote dates to 1786-89 This photo really shows off the embroidery and the lushness of the fabric Marie Antoinette was fond of redingotes; she would often wear them at the Petit Trianon. One particular redingote of hers caught particular attention - it was of a pale grey taffeta. The redingote was connected with German style in the minds of the French; perhaps this also played a role in the Queen's fondness for it? On the night that Versailles was stormed the Queen had just time to put on a yellow redingote before she was obliged to flee through the secret door in her bedroom. As seen in portraits: Marie Antoinette in a blue redingote Lady wearing a dark blue redingote by Louis Gauffier Ines Maria Aguirre y Yoldi by Adolf Ulrik Wertmüller Detail of Marie Antoinette hunting in a grey redingote, 1785 - perhaps this was the gown that caught the court's attention? Baroness Stroganova
Has it really been almost a year since I’ve updated? Really? That went fast. I’m ashamed. Life comes (and goes) quickly, and seems to go even more quickly when you’re juggling…
A fancy dress evening in the Hall of Mirror You have already taken part in the Fêtes Galantes and Château de Versailles holds no secret for you? This year, be o...
This is the most beautiful gown I have ever made, she is truly stunning. Unfortunately my photographic skills are not as good, I have darkened the photograph so you can see the trims. She is paler. May I suggest you send for a fabric sample to see the true beauty and texture of the fabrics. WHAT AN ENTRANCE YOU WILL MAKE AT VERSAILLES You can join our layby plan for this gown with a deposit of £100 and 9 months to pay the balance FULLY BONED. NO CORSET REQUIRED FOR BUST UPLIFT! THIS TRULY AMAZING LATE 18TH CENTURY *ENGLISH COURT GOWN* HAS BEEN CONSTRUCTED TO GIVE THE AUTHENTIC ROCOCO LOOK WHILEST REMAINING EASY TO WEAR. THE FABRICS... The beautiful heavy silvery beige textured brocade has an under shimmer with gold thread embroidery . The embroidered tulle lace has an iridescent thread that complements the fabric . The heavy wide trim is studded with pearls and sequins. PLEASE NOTE.. The trims are hand made and may vary in uniformity and there will be the occasional bead loss. We enclose extra pieces of trim to replace any loss. She is FULLY lined in satin for comfort BODICE Is fully lined and heavily boned (13 lengths) while the feature back strapping pulls the gown in for a fully 'corseted' look and perfect fit. The front 'v' panel has 7 pieces of boning encased within a triple layer of heavy calico that gives a fully pushed up bust. On the front panel A beautiful wide pearl and diamante trim emphasises the deep square neckline so typical of 18th century gowns . I have layered the front panel with layers of the lace and added a large bow made from the same lace. A large brooch adds to the overall rich appearance. THE SLEEVES The fully lined elbow shaped three quarter sleeves have a gorgeous shaped deep ruffle of the main fabric edged with the iridescent lace. There is a separate inner sleeve with an extremely large double layer of delicate lace forming an extra inner frill, very flamboyant. I have sewn a thin lace of diamante into the frill seam and finished them with a lace bow and pearl and diamante brooch SKIRTS The main skirt has been shaped to trail away at the back and train as you walk.. I have edged the front with the iridescent lace and a beautiful diamante and pearl trim The underskirt has layers of the iridescent lace running down the front and a large triple frill at the bottom. I have sewn a matching trim across the front. The gown is displayed over a 6 hoop pannier frame NOT INCLUDED IN PRICE but available in my 'sellers other items' The construction of the gown coupled with the back ribbon strapping makes for a perfect fit on a range of approx. 2 or more sizes. I.e. the gown will fit several bust sizes perfectly. MEASUREMENTS. Bust 43.5 to 45.5 Inches Waist 37 to 39 Inches Length 42.5 Inches Around the upper arm 15 Inches Mid shoulder to waist 15.5 Inches IMPORTANT..PLEASE USE A TAPE MEASURE TO CHECK YOUR MEASUREMENTS. A 36C BRA SIZE CAN EASILY MEASURE 38 INCHES OR MORE PLEASE BE AWARE THAT ALL ITEMS BOUGHT FROM OVERSEAS ARE SUBJECT TO IMPORT DUTY. IT IS A TAX LEVIED BY MOST GOVERNMENTS. MANY ITEMS WILL REACH YOU UNCHARGED HOWEVER, AS THE BUYER, YOU WILL BE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CHARGE, SO PLEASE FACTOR THIS INTO YOUR PURCHASE PRICE Postage prices for UK/EU/USA.For other countries Please ask for a quote
So, as anyone who follows my facebook has known for quite some time, on May 30th I was privileged to attend the Fêtes Galantes at the Palace of Versailles. This post has taken a very long time in coming, which I'm very sorry for, but I've been very busy with my masters and I just haven't had time to do a proper post! As always, an image to start: Photo arranged by Raven of Plaid Petticoats I love this shot! Raven wanted to evoke Annie Leibowitz's Vogue shoot for Marie Antoinette, and I think she did a fabulous job. Our instructions were "look bored," haha. I am in the sage green gown in the centre. To my right are Emma, in dark blue, and Alana, in pink satin brocade. I draped both of their gowns, and did much of the stitching on both. ~~~ Now, before I talk about the process of getting ready for the ball, I wanted to share a little bit of context on this gown, because taking it to France was actually quite special to me. The gown was created to tell the story of one Nova Scotian woman who was forced from her home in Acadia in the 1740s, and took refuge in France. Wearing the gown there felt like an important part of its story. In addition, I posted this gown on the Historical Sew-Fortnightly for the Travel challenge - I didn't actually enter it in the challenge, as it was mostly made some time ago, but I did want to share the travel-laden story that goes with it. The gown is my c. 1740s Robe a la Francaise and embroidered stomacher, modelled on one in the collection of the LACMA, and chosen because of its similarity to the gowns listed in the death inventory of Dame Marie-Josephe Le Borgne de Belle Isle, of Louisbourg. It was made and initially worn in Marie's birthplace of Nova Scotia, Canada. Marie was the highest-ranking woman at the Fortress of Lousibourg (in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia) in the 1740s, with close ties both within the town and to surrounding communities. She had an impressive lineage: she was descended from French noble houses on both sides of her family, claiming a number of seigneurial lords of New France, as well as two Governors of Acadia, among her recent ancestors, and her mother was the daughter of Chief Madokawando of the Penobscot of Pentagoët. She married twice in Louisbourg; once to a respected civil administrator of the town and afterwards to Lord Joseph Du Pont Duvivier. Between these two marriages, she had nine children, at least four of whom survived to adulthood. Given her strong ancestral and communal ties to Louisbourg and Acadia, the Siege of Louisbourg and the resulting expulsion of the Acadians in 1745 must have been devastating. Marie packed up her children and her belongings, and undertook the voyage to France along with many other members of her once-thriving community. The voyage would have been dangerous, and the outlook bleak - especially when she lost her first husband, soon after the tumult began. Yet in 1749, when Louisbourg was returned to French hands, Marie found the strength to once again pack up her children and her life and sail back to the New World. She remarried in 1750 and immersed herself as a pillar of the Acadian community at Louisbourg until her death from illness in 1754. In some ways her death at this time is a blessing, as she did not live to see the second siege of Louisbourg in 1758, which ended when the residents were once again expelled and the town was purposefully burnt to the ground. This event effectively ended French occupancy of the Maritimes, although the Acadian culture remains to this day. Marie's travels are unlikely to have taken her to Versailles, despite her aristocratic connections and the time she spent in France, but when I had the opportunity to wear my "Louisbourg" gown to the ball in May it felt a bit like I was completing a part of the story the gown was created to tell. The gown is not a travelling suit - a riding habit or a redingote or anything particularly practical - but in many ways travel has defined it: my own travels, but more importantly the travel forced on Marie and her family, and on the entire Acadian community. ~~~ The Ball ~~~ It looks like a painting! I'm so happy with how these came out. Getting ready for our own travels was a pretty hectic business. It started back in the fall, with drafting and making stays for Alana. Alana has never sewn before, and she was an enthusiastic learner but given the time-crunch Emma and I made the stays for her, and much of the gown. She sewed her hoops all on her own, with some guidance from Emma, and did a great job! We're getting her hooked on reenacting so I'm sure she'll have lots to practice on in the future. =) Here's Alana's draping process - first a photo of her wearing her stays with her hoops and Emma's candy-cane/circus petticoat (100% linen! 100% amazing!), over which I have draped her bodice lining. The second photo shows the process of draping the gown itself. This was Alana's first gown and she wasn't sure if she'd like it, so we've used a poly satin. I WOULD NOT recommend this, ever. Even for a beginner gown - or rather, especially for a beginner gown. Silk taffeta goes together like a dream. Poly satin is a fraying, drooping, wrinkling, hell-spawned mess. *Ahem* But she looks lovely, no? Emma used a gorgeous steel blue taffeta, and had her own stays and petticoats already, so her process was a lot faster and smoother. She's also a very experienced costumer, so we just spent a lot of evenings watching TV and handing bits of the gown back and forth to drape or stitch. This meant she had to spend a lot of time in her 18th century underwear, ready to have bits of gown draped on her, which resulted in this gem: #Cinderella Here's her draping process: Then front Back first Pleats! Finally, sleeves. I, unlike most people, apparently, don't actually mind draping or setting sleeves. I find them really satisfying, actually. Emma's took some fiddling, but they sat really nicely in the end. Oh, and I made some shoes. Well, took apart and re-covered some 1940s shoes. Trying out the look of the AD buckle I used all stash silk! Also, I wore stockings to the ball. =P Unfortunately, it rained almost the whole time we were in Paris. We got to wander around the first day, but as we'd taken the 22-hour overnight bus from Glasgow and arrived at about 6 a.m., we mostly just wanted to sleep. We did get to see the Louvre and a few other monuments first, though. Paris is beautiful - I can't wait to go back! On the second day we wandered around Paris for one day in the 18th c. daywear we'd brought along, joined by our friend Adam, a sailor and sometime-Revolutionary of generally lower repute than we should probably be associating with. He dressed Alana up in some sailing clothes and we went out on the town. From the left: Adam, Emma, myself, and Alana We had fun stealing swings from children and taking the metro. Also: ice cream The metro is fun in 18th century clothing And then it rained. This is a period umbrella method! Met Museum 53.600.588(60), 1746 - "Espéce de Parapluye" The following day was the ball, and we spent all day getting ready. We got down to the wire at the end, but we made it! Emma working her hair magic while I sew a Revolutionary cockade to Adam's hat. Also yes, I put on my petticoat and bedgown for getting ready. That's what they're for! Here's the result of Emma's efforts (all the powder!): Dancing in the Hall of Mirrors The grand staircase - one of my favourite photos The three ladies Revolutionaries don't smile I *love* the back of this gown! The custard plates are hiding behind us on the window sill. We were joined by a big group of Emma's friends, who are historical dancers from Massachusetts. And finally, fireworks! It was pouring rain the whole time, so here's how some of Emma's friends kept dry - genius, but hilarious! T-rex dancers! Anyways, it was an amazing experience. I feel so lucky to have seen the Hall of Mirrors come alive as it was meant to - with people in incredible gowns, instead of just people in sweaty t-shirts and shorts and ballcaps. =P But really, I think it just feels a different way entirely. It's what it was built for. Thanks to my amazing travel-adventure-sewing buddies, who made this such a fun trip. Can't wait for more shenanigans!
Bulles de Mode vous propose depuis 2010 ses services en personal shopping à Lyon et dans la région. Retrouvez aussi tous mes conseils, astuces et découvertes sur mon blog Mode Bijoux et Tendances !
Has it really been almost a year since I’ve updated? Really? That went fast. I’m ashamed. Life comes (and goes) quickly, and seems to go even more quickly when you’re juggling…
Made famous by Marie Antoinette who preferred to wear at her retreat of Petit Trianon, it sparked a scandal when Elisabeth Vigée Le Brun painted the Queen wearing the informal dress since it was thought too plain for a Queen of France. Some critics said that it looked as if Her Majesty had been painted in her undergarments. It became fashionable during the late 1770's to early 1780's and at the time most courtiers thought that it resembled more a chemise in the traditional sense - that is basically underwear. The public first came head to head with the style when the portrait of Marie Antoinette was hung in a Paris salon in 1783. However, the outcry became so great that the original portrait (seen below) was removed. The English paper, the Morning Herald, mentioned in 1784 the trend as a "state of undress" which they expected to become quite popular. Marie Antoinette's portrait that caused such a fuss The chemise à la Reine is made of several layers of white muslin which is loosely draped around the wearer's body. A coloured sash was bound around the bust and this was often the only colourful element in this dress. As for the shape, it was completely different from the elaborate dresses usually worn at court. Gone were the wide panniers and rustling silks with delicate embroidery. The inspiration is believed to have come from dresses worn by washerwomen from the West Indies or from an increasing sense of Anglomania; the muslin was often imported from India. This in itself caused problems. Whereas silk had hitherto been a favourite when it came to court dress this new muslin had to be imported often at great costs. The French silk merchants were furious and quickly denounced the trend. Others had more patriotic reasons for disliking the trend. The casual style was a result of increasing English influence on fashion which had so far been all but monopolised by the French. The Princesse de Lamballe following suit Surprisingly enough, the Queen's fashion statement was equally detested by courtiers and commoners alike. For once they could agree on one thing: the Queen of France was the fashion symbol of the Western world as well as an outward symbol of the glory of France. She could not be seen wearing such a simple style. The greatest affront to the older courtiers was that no corset was worn with the dress which for centuries had been an essential part of any woman's attire. Still, the style spread through Europe and became popular among many a noble ladies. Marie Antoinette's personal friend, the Duchess of Devonshire, wore a chemise à la Reine for an official ball while Princess Louise Augusta of Denmark had her portrait painted in one. The latter portrait was also the cause for some scandal in Denmark when an observer noted that the Princess' legs could almost be seen through the fabric - even though it was merely on canvas. Promptly, more layers of white paint were added to keep the Princess' modesty intact. Louise Augusta of Denmark It is not hard to imagine that most fashionable ladies saw the style as an excuse for slipping out of the restricting court costumes and into something more comfortable. It is rather ironic that the cut of the chemise à la Reine would later be associated with the post-Revolutionary France where a high waistline was the fashion.
For its Spring-Summer 2019 Haute Couture collection, Georges Hobeika was inspired by the ill-fated French Queen Marie-Antoinette and the fast of her life in the Château de Versailles, from its golden decor to its well tendered garden. Fleurs de lys are embroidered on gowns to recall the French roy
The Spring/Summer 2017 campaign for Michael Cinco's "The Impalpable Dream of VERSAILLES" collection photographed by Tina Patni with creative direction by the Dubai-based Filipino couturier himself.
Sarah Winter in ‘Versailles’ (2015). x
A real beauty
@catherinedefrance
