My Dior

For the last couple of months, I've immersed myself in the enchanting world of Dior. I've read the autobiography Christian Dior and I; I've reverently turned the pages of the mighty tome Dior published by Assouline and I've watched Christian Dior: the Man Behind the Myth and Dior and I.

Little did I imagine that one day I could legitimately use the phrase "my Dior." I've never had a glimmer of a thought that I would ever own a dress by Dior. But now I do.

My lifelong friend, Holly, inherited a collection of couture clothes from her mother-in-law, Marjorie Stern. Most of the collection was donated to the San Francisco de Young Museum, but recently Holly and I were chatting and she mentioned there was one dress the museum didn't take and that I was the only person she thought it might fit. We set a date to meet at her textile studio in Sausalito for me to take a look at the dress and try it on. I had a restless night before our meeting. I envisioned one of the earlier Dior's from the 50's, when women wore heavy foundations to achieve the wasp waist and I worried that my waist would not wasp. But I reasoned with myself, even if it didn't fit, at least I would have the thrill of being up close and personal with a Dior dress. 

But as soon as Holly lifted the protective covering, I was thrilled to see that the dress might actually fit.   I stepped in to the dress and happily the zipper zipped without me having to suck it in too much!

Since it's from 1964, the dress was designed by Marc Bohan. Christian Dior died in 1957 and Yves Saint Laurent was appointed artistic director, but only for two years. He was drafted and due to a mental collapse was placed in a military hospital. In 1960, while Saint Laurent was in the hospital, Bohan was appointed artistic director. Bohan remained the artistic director for the next thirty years, until 1989.

I'm fascinated by the stamped model number on the label, 124646. I contacted the Textile Arts Council at the de Young museum to see if they had more information. I wondered if each dress has a unique number and if it's possible to track the background of a dress. They responded quickly, suggesting that I contact the company directly. Last Friday, I popped into the Christian Dior Boutique and explained my story to the very attentive and understanding manager. He is a wealth of Dior knowledge and offered a couple theories; before ready-to-wear was so available, high-end department stores would buy the patterns from couture designers and have the dresses made for their clients, so it could be the stores model number, or, it could be a customer number specific to Mrs. Stern and her measurements. The manager offered to send the photos of the label and dress to another Dior contact to get their ideas. I'll let you know what I find out.

Marc Bohan with his models, 1966, copyright RDA/Rue des Archives. 

From Dior by Farid Chenoune and Laziz Hamani

The dress is quite wearable, the wool is soft and airy and completely lined in silk. There's an additional silk lining, so the dress easily slips on and hangs effortlessly with a beautiful drape. And I adore that it has pockets - large and deep silk lined pockets that are completely invisible on the exterior.

Adding to the significance of my Dior dress, I admire the woman who wore it. Marjorie Stern is known for her philanthropic work in San Francisco, especially as one of the founders of the Friends of the San Francisco Public Library, an organization I've supported as a donor and volunteer for years. Now that's what I call dressing with personal style and meaning.

Beauty, inspiration and debauchery, in that order

Fashion films and documentaries are like rare jewels. Sparkly and beautiful they appear infrequently and when they do I look forward to seeing them with unabashed excitement. And some I have watched many times, such as Bill Cunningham New York or Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel. I relish the behind-the-scenes glamour and the inspiration I get from these fabulous colorful and creative people.

At this bountiful moment there are three fashion films showing and I recommend seeing all of them for various reasons.

Dior and I

This movie documents the arrival of Raf Simons as the new artistic director of the Christian Dior fashion house and follows him as he creates his first Dior haute couture collection in the Spring of 2012. Simons has only eight weeks until the day his designs walk down the runway. And he has to prove himself. Since he is known for his minimal design, many wonder if Simons is the correct choice for Dior.

The vulnerability of Simons is sensitively shown by film director, Frédéric Tcheng. Tcheng also wrote and directed the excellent Diana Vreeland: The Eye Has to Travel and edited Valentino: The Last Emperor. 

It's curious, who is the "I" of "Dior and I"? It is the man himself, Christian Dior, and it is Simons. During the film, a voiceover reads from Dior's 1957 biography, "Christian Dior and I". Dior sees himself as two people, the private person and the famous designer. Simons begins reading the biography as he starts to design his first collection, but the similarities between his experiences and Dior's are so close, he has to put the book down and focus on the collection.  

With a critical and worried eye, Simons studies his designs as they come to life. 

And the talented people I admire so much, the "petite mains" in the workroom. They are the women and men who bring the sketches to life with great mastery.

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Iris

When getting dressed in the morning I make an effort at a bit of self-expression. I’ll add an oversized silk flower to my lapel, wear a mix of prints or a piece of heirloom jewelry. But all that seems feeble and pale now that I’ve seen the powerhouse of original style, Iris Apel, in this documentary. 

There are few people with her joy for self-expression, intense esthetic pleasure of dressing  and sheer life force energy.  All this is fed by her hunting and gathering clothing and accessories from all over the world. She shops everywhere on the fashion spectrum from the heights of couture to a discount shop on a side street in New York.

Iris Apfel in IRIS, a Magnolia Pictures release. Photo credit: © Bruce Weber

If you go to the official site for the film, click on the trailer to get an idea of the fabulousness of Iris and this documentary. Iris has her 94^th birthday this August 29^th. And I just had a great idea.  Wouldn't it be fun to celebrate Iris and the expression of one's personal style by having a dress like Iris day on her birthday? Let's do it!

Here are a few of her pizzazz-packed quotes:

"It’s better to be happy than well-dressed."

"I like to do things as if I am playing jazz."

"Life is gray and dull; you might as well have a little fun when you dress."

"I’m not pretty and I’ll never be pretty, but it doesn’t matter. I have something much better. I have style."

"More is more and less is a bore."

And my favorite:

"When you don’t dress like everyone else, you don’t have to think like everyone else."

Saint Laurent

And now for something totally different. Not to be confused with the film Yves Saint Laurent that came out last year, this is not a feel-good movie. See it if you have a passion for the designer and to get a glimpse of glamorous and decadent Paris of the '70's. But be prepared for some depressing scenes of Yves getting too deeply involved with drugs and alcohol. There are some fabulous individual views in the atelier and on the runway, but the movie as a whole is long and feels emotionally empty. And beware, if you are a dog lover, there is a heartbreaking scene with his bulldog, Moujik. 

Saint Laurent is too much about the designer's excesses. Yves Saint Laurent featured his original creations, but the film feels stiff with minimal style. I suppose that's the downfall of fashion biopics. They often feel forced without the depth that I imagine the featured person would have. For that reason I prefer documentaries. If you are interested in Yves Saint Laurent, I recommend His Life and Times and 5 Avenue Marceau 75116 Paris.