Glamorama-Lockdown - Esther

Currently we’re seeing details of people’s lives we’ve no wish nor right to really be seeing. TV & the internet is stuffed full of people filming or photographing themselves in various rooms of their homes & we’re all just trying to see what books & music they have on their shelves. They are also in varying degrees of dress & glamour. I don’t like this. I don’t want to see anyone in their pyjamas thank you very much, nor what passes in their lives for “leisure wear.” People appearing on screens in my home should be giving it their best shot or getting dressed at the very least. Very few of them achieve the dubious charm of Mela Muter’s gloriously unconcerned, socked-up, caffeinated woman.

Watching a T. Rex video a few nights ago, I found myself coveting Marc Bolan’s face glitter. The same happened watching a recent video in which Blixa Bargeld wears a floral hairband & eye glitter. I have pails-worth of glitter in my flat (not to mention floral hairbands) but I’ve not been applying it because I always think it’s for going out. Why? One of my favourite things about going out is getting ready & despite making some effort it hasn’t exactly been full-on. After a couple of months, it’s time for that to change.
See what I mean here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fbrdQKHBjqg

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Nz9t_4XLcc

At a time when people seem to imagine effort & glamour don’t matter, I’m going to say the opposite is true for many of us. This is all too frequently & all too tiresomely referred to as vanity. It’s about the transformative nature of altering one’s interior life via the exterior, even when no-one else is going to see you. Dressing up for those that enjoy it – & by all means, feel free to lounge about in your joggers all day, good luck to you – can make us feel better, more ourselves & if you’re having a lockdown down day a spruce-up can help. Several times I’ve been asked, “How can you be bothered putting on full makeup right now?” I can & I will! In part, it’s about routine & ritual. I'm very happy with my working-from-home-for-eight-weeks-of-lockdown nails. They’re the longest they’ve been in years & I’m making the most of them.

With this in mind, it’s worth looking at some of the more glamorously-presented figures in art to teach us about what clothing can do for us. It sounds straightforward enough, but this isn’t about fashion – a whole other blog’s-worth in itself – nor is it about my twin bug-bears of royalty & fur with which the art world is bloated. Because so much of art in history has relied on moneyed patrons, there’s a lot of fanciness, feathers & an unnecessary lack of taste. What I’m interested in here is effort, confidence, looking the way you like & liking the way you look. Accessories. A little extra sparkle here & there. Jewellery. Makeup. A slightly-wilder than required hat & gloves combination as in de Lempicka.

It’s about making the perhaps more ordinary-looking person look more extraordinary. No-one in art history does this better than Rembrandt. He can take the lumpiest, oddest looking humans & literally turn their likeness into a work of art. But he knew what he was doing & he liked his props & his dressing up box & so what if someone needed a little help on the way? We’re neither of us oil paintings ourselves after all, Rembrandt nor I but we know how to tilt a brim.

To be honest, the sumptuous spirit of Pre-Raphaelite clothing appeals to me more than the paintings themselves. Imagine what it would be like to feel Jane Morris’s Prussian blue satiny frock against the skin in this Rossetti painting. Soaking up the swish & grandeur of it whilst idling away the lockdown reading the latest Rebus novel, all the while, fully accessorised.

There are many examples of my favoured black clothing in art & I’ve tried hard not to overload this entry with those. Although I easily could have. Search “art woman in black” or “art lady in black” & all kinds of Seurats, Laverys & Liepkes pop up before you. High collars, low necklines, seated, standing, you can’t go wrong with a little – or enormous – black number. Immediate & almost unbelievably simple style. Or jazz it up with fans & scarves like Picasso’s missus. Make it your own.

Go for massive froth in the vein of Klimt! 

Historical over-the-top outrageousness as in Clarke!

Unutterable lunar lunacy à la Erté!

& if you're desperate to go ironic faux-leisure-wear chic, the quilted magnificence of Greaves might do the job.

Byzantine headdress anyone?

Or perhaps it would do to just wear the dress that makes you feel nicest like Mrs Schiele.

Maybe a dress-up day doesn’t work for you however & once again art comes to your rescue. Because despite her finery the heroine of what I’d regard as the ultimate masterpiece of sprawling opulence by Sargent feels your lockdown pain. You can be wearing all the fancy frocks & fabulous frills but for the foreseeable future, you’re not going to the ball.

& if you really must cut about in your pyjamas all day on my TV screen, may I suggest you do it Renée style?
(Use a pen, not a cigarette).

As I said last week, do what’s best for you. Suit - & boot – yourself.

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