Normcore

This week for STAR⟡MAIL, Lauren Vaccaro reviews The New York Historical and Smith College Historic Clothing Collection’s exhibition Real Clothes, Real Lives: 200 Years of What Women Wore exhibition, which asked a burning question underscoring the study of fashion history: “Okay, but what did normal girls wear?” If you haven’t checked it out yet, I urge you to make a visit!

Lauren Vaccaro, writer behind the Pastiche Substack, reviews The New York Historical and Smith College Historic Clothing Collection’s exhibition Real Clothes, Real Lives: 200 Years of What Women Wore exhibition.

Food is the New Luxury

By Lauren Vaccaro

It is a rare occasion when you enter a museum and see something that could easily be found in your closet, your archives, or tucked away somewhere in your childhood home. Currently on view at The New York Historical is the exhibition Real Clothes, Real Lives: 200 Years of What Women Wore, the Smith College Historic Clothing Collection that presents accessories, clothing, and ephemera for mending that come from the homes of everyday women. The thesis of this exhibition sets it apart from the clothing-centric exhibitions that are usually on view in New York. Unlike the nearly pristine pieces that are deemed worthy of museum display, all of the garments on view are celebrated for the signs of their lives with the women who wear them. While studying the fabric in the dresses specifically sanctioned for work in and outside the home, slight areas of discoloration are visible throughout the front panels of blouses, quickly done stitches to get the job done, and colors that have faded with time.  Moving through the galleries, visitors are presented with the evolution of women’s roles in the recent past and the ways that race, class, and gender presentation shaped these opportunities. The curators of Real Clothes, Real Lives  outlined the gallery into five small sections to categorize the objects on view in the vitrines: home, service, public dress, rites of passage, and “rebelwear.”

One of the treats of visiting exhibitions focused on historical clothing is how seeing styles from centuries past have maintained relevance in contemporary fashion.  Puffed sleeves, delicate floral printed textiles, and necklines highlighted with collars continue to be work appropriate today. In a stand alone lightbox, activated by the press of a button, the gradual illumination reveals a rare 19th century bodice that worked just as hard as the women it covered. This “work bodice” was designed for women whose labor was too intense for the typically stiff foundation garments, allowing for easier movement throughout the hips and made of easy to wash cotton. The short jacket-like top is splayed open revealing a duo-fabric lining comprised of two calico fabrics that were previously children’s dresses. Stains are dappled among the polkadot print along with a thumb-sized patch of slightly contracting fabric that survived additional years of wear.

Due to the sensitive state of many of the objects on view, certain pieces were swapped out with other garments that are equally delicate to illustrate the specific points within the designated categories. When I purchased the catalogue after my first visit in November, the individual working in the gift shop mentioned how there are objects illustrated in this tome that are not currently on view, but will be in a few months time. Naturally, I let time pass and noted in my planner to come back a few months into the new year for a slightly refreshed version of the show. 

During my second  visit, I saw one of the sweetest objects on view. Alieen Clarke Hernandez’s “Sweet 16” sugar cube corsage from 1942, composed of satiny light pink ribbon and a small handful of saccharine squares. A candy corsage was a regional treat for girls in New York and New Jersey during the 20th century, often given as birthday gifts. Formed in the shape of a prize ribbon that became Gen Z’s brooch du jour and spotted in recent collections from Sandy Liang and Miss Claire Sullivan, the one comes from the collection of a woman we should look to again for inspiration. Hernandez, who was born and raised in Brooklyn, became the president of the National Organization of Women (NOW), whose mission was to achieve equal rights for women. Although the original message of the corsage was to “remind young girls to be sweet,” Hernandez also never wavered in her advocacy to end discriminatory barriers throughout her life. 

After making my way through the show to the last section defined as “rebelwear,” it dawned on me that nearly all of the clothing items on view can fit into this category. Women have always shifted their appearance to accommodate the demands of labor, inside and outside of the home, in order to make their presence known or blend in into the gendered structures that defined “proper” codes of sartorial conduct for nurses, house keepers, restaurant workers, and office commuters. A few of the examples on view that best illustrate how clothes have shifted with women for work include a rather mod McDonald’s uniform with a top that bells out to accommodate a pregnant belly and a fitted tomato red Norma Komali knit skirt suit paired with black and red high heeled sneakers to run from the boardroom to the aerobic studio or home to complete the days tasks during her 9 to 5 to whenever she finds the time to sleep.

Another striking outfit that was placed in the “rebelwear” portion of the exhibition was composed of an array of colors and textiles caught my eye for not only the way the lines in the orange ribbed turtleneck flowed into the white striped bell bottoms hat was visually interrupted by the message of peace encircling the waist (excellent metaphorical styling), but for the dazzling vest that topped it made from soda can pull tabs. A do-it-yourself two page spread from the Bay Area publication Rags explained to readers how to upcycle functional beverage openers for statement making personal style pieces. However, the museum label noted that the donor of this vest said this was “more fun to make than comfortable to wear!”

As I exited the building, which faces Central Park, I began wandering among the trees that were just spouting their springtime buds and my mind began flipping through the lookbook of my past outfits that live in my memory. What do I own that could possibly be excavated for an exhibition similar to this one in the future? Will my bag charms and silver, puffy heart chain belt I got at a flea market for $5 be used to illustrate our current era of gravitating to signifiers of softness in a hard world? Only time will tell.

The force behind the Smith College Historic Clothing Collection, Kiki Smith, is a truly inspiring woman that you should read about:

And, lastly, I also wrote about the NYH’s great exhibit: