I’ve always been fascinated by the power and sense of self-assurance that particular outfits have on those who wear them. Yet the concept of “power dressing” is actually an old one.
Though the expression was mainly used throughout the ‘80s to describe the bold and daring creations, often featuring widely exaggerated shoulders, tightly pinched and constricted waists and body-hugging dresses created by fashion designers for a new woman who had achieved a more prominent position in society (think Armani suits...), it can be argued that this term wasn’t invented then. Indeed, Venice and Florence launched the concept of power dressing in the mid-1400s. By the early 1500s, Venice had taken the Renaissance torch that Florence had carried and made it its own.
Costume history proves that sumptuous wardrobes were used in the Italian city not simply to flatter vanity, but as a display of power. Clean-cut silhouettes, elegant patterns, rich colour palettes (with a prominent use of white, red in two variations - mainly crimson and scarlet - peacock, bronze and gold), sumptuous fabrics (silk, velvet, damask, but also the “restagno”, a typical Venetian fabric, a sort of patterned brocade with gold weft, and the “zambellotto” or “ciambellotto”, a fabric originally made with camel hair), trimmings, lace, embroideries and the use of other decorative elements, all contributed to this theatrical display by representatives of the temporal, political and social powers.
Venice seemed to dictate to its citizens to wear particular attires that immediately revealed the social rank of the wearer: the Doge – distinctively recognisable by his dress characterised by the “manto” (cape) the “sottana” (robe) and the “corno” (a horn-like beret worn on the “camauro”, a fine linen cap), and by accessories such as the “epitogio” (a sort of cape-shaped garment, covering the shoulders and reaching only to the elbow); his wife, the Dogaressa, often adorned herself with pearls; the gondoliers dressed in extravagant and beautiful clothes paid for from the city coffers, while manual workers who often could not afford beautiful clothes prostituted themselves to pay for them. 
There is also a collection in four volumes that, through its 650 illustrations, explores the stories, legends and costumes of Venetians in the 1700s. The volumes, by Giovanni Grevembroch (Venice, 1731-1807), are entitled Abiti de’ Veneziani and, though they may somehow lack any real criticism as their author flatly reports about the moral habits of Venetians (among them councillors, ambassadors, consuls, noblewomen, widows and prostitutes, bishops and cardinals, merchants, artists and poets) they are also a very interesting introduction to costume design. Lavish robes in brilliant reds characterise the Bailo (the chief Venetian diplomat in Constantinople) while the Captain General's costume features a yellow damasked toga worn over a long red robe and the Turkish ambassador wears an exotic tall headpiece and a fur-trimmed cape.
The "puttana"
, or prostitute, has a distinctive yellow-sleeved long dress with a plunging neckline with a red flower partially covering her cleavage. She wears thin slipper-like shoes and she's lifting her skirt to show her calf, something that was considered rather rude at the time. The prostitutes’ attire seemed to interest many people at the time in Venice.
In the 1700s the Inquisitors’ Tribunal sent secret agents in the streets to make sure that people were respecting the laws, and did not offend with their clothes the public decency. In one of the reports written in May 1736, an agent describes in details the dress of a prostitute he saw around the S. Cansian bridge. Her dress, he recounted, in white moire fabric featured painstakingly intricate golden embroideries of fruit. In his report the secret agent hinted at the fact that the dress was worth of a noblewoman, of the Dogaressa maybe, and that it shouldn't have been worn by a prostitute. 
To know more about Venetian costumes or to rent one to go back to the heydays of power dressing, you can maybe enlist the help of master tailor and theatre costume designer Stefano Nicolao. Owner of the Venice-based tailoring house Atelier Nicolao, Stefano is well-known for making costumes for public parades, cinema, stage and television productions. One of the most famous films he worked on is Gérard Corbiau Farinelli: Il Castrato (1994).
Throughout the years Nicolao recreated some of the most striking costumes by taking inspiration from history and painting. One of them is Beatrice d’Este’s beribboned gown as depicted in the Pala Sforzesca of Milan, that Nicolao recreated using wool, silk and metal with velvet strips for a restaging of the meeting in Venice between Beatrice d’Este and Caterina Cornaro.
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