In Palmer White's book, "Elsa Schiaparelli: Empress of Paris Fashion," the author recounts a moment in 1932 when Daisy Fellowes, in a Schiaparelli satin evening gown adorned with prints of poodles, brightened up the premiere of Kurt Jooss's ballet "The Green Table" at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées.
White doesn't tell us more about this design, so we're not sure if it featured a matching head piece. Yet, during the 1930s, Schiaparelli often accessorised her designs (including her iconic 1938 Tear Dress) with veils and headscarves. The Philadelphia Museum of Art preserves in its archives a white veil by Schiaparelli with an intricate motif of long beaded wavy hair embroidered by Lesage, resembling a wig (the same motif was employed by the current creative director Daniel Roseberry for a white shirt with embroidered golden locks in Schiaparelli's S/S 23 collection - View this photo).
In recent times, Japanese hair artist, head prop designer, and wig maker Tomihiro Kono, has recreated this effect. Kono often applies wavy locks in vibrant or pastel hues on white or nude tulle, allowing wearers to creatively don the wigs, on the head or on the body, creating in this way optical illusions and a glamorous allure.
The theme of wavy locks and optical illusions resurfaced on Givenchy's menswear runway in January. Among the designs showcased at Givenchy's historic George V couture salons there were two humorous silk scarves printed with two different motifs of hand-drawn hairstyles, curly locks and braids. The hair theme also reappeared in the stiff horsehair embellished coats and pants and in one jacket that featured a decorative motif reminiscent of swirling hair.
The collection borrowed heavily from its founder Hubert de Givenchy, but it was designed by a team after creative director Matthew M. Williams exited the brand last year (also the quirky cat print was borrowed from the house's archive).
Men wearing silky scarves is not a novel concept, as this trend made appearances on other runways in recent years, such as Gucci's by Alessandro Michele.
In much the same way, hair printed scarves are not a novel concept: a few years ago, Tilda Swinton was photographed in a similar scarf by Givenchy (View this photo), yet the scarves seen at Givenchy's menswear show originally date back to 1953 and they were probably derived from Schiaparelli's veil.
Before launching his own fashion house in 1952, Hubert de Givenchy had indeed previously worked for Schiaparelli and had therefore absorbed elements of Surrealism from her, contributing to the evolution of this thematic inspiration.
Along the years other brands embraced the "hair scarf" trend: Hermès for example produced a scarf with two diverse hairstyles that provided the wearers with more versatile options.
In the last few days we also witnessed a resurgence of hairs (rather than just hair...) in fashion: Maison Margiela's Artisanal S/S 24 collection by John Galliano featured models in see-through tulle gowns. They looked naked underneath, but in reality they were wearing a tulle bodysuit with a trick: human pubic hairs were "embroidered" onto silk tulle to create a merkin (a pubic hair wig - an item forgotten by history, but, after Galliano's show, all over Instagram...). But we will maybe look at this inspiration more in-depth in another post.
Returning to hair we can add that they can assume different meanings, even political ones: patriarchal cultures ask women to cover their hair as a way to control their bodies. And while long attractive tresses point at female sexuality, cutting one's hair can be a sign of protest, anger or mourning as seen during the protests in Iran; discarded hair trigger instead a sort of repulsion in the viewer.
Artist Mona Hatoum often employed hair and pubic hairs as well in her works to address issues from gender to nationalism: in her surrealist work "Jardin Public" (1993) a metal chair sprouts a pubic triangle from its seat; in her work "Keffieh" (1993-1999), the traditional head scarf worn by men in the Middle East is deconstructed and the black threads are substituted with hair. Here surrealism turns political in a final gesture that turns a scarf into a head scarf that ends up exposing hair rather than hiding them.
Hair (and hairs as well...) remains therefore a lasting source of inspiration in the world of design, its multifaceted significance persisting across various creative domains, from making a fashion statement to conveying political symbolism, or serving as a canvas for surreal artistic expression.
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