DRESSED TO IMPRESS
A small exhibit at FIT, Proust's Muse, The Countess Greffulhe, celebrates the wardrobe of this famous turn-of-the-century Parisian socialite. She captivated the most accomplished artists, writers and musicians of the day, including Proust, with her natural beauty and audacious style. There isn’t a single garment here that, in its extravagant construction and execution, doesn’t feel like a costume. These are clothes that serve personal drama, that heighten that moment when a woman rises from her chair, exits a carriage, or collapses onto a settee.
There are shimmering, floor-skimming Oriental-themed robes, inspired by Diaghilev's Ballets Russes, that the Countess wore to receive visitors at her home on Rue d’Astorg. There is an an ankle-length Russian cape embroidered in gold and trimmed with ermine, papal in splendor, that she wore to her daughter’s wedding. There is a Worth ballgown in a brilliant, bracingly modern, emerald green. And there is an off-the-shoulder 1937 Lanvin evening gown of liquid black silk whose enormous ruffles seem to be floating out in front of it.
One senses, beyond the high level of museum curatorship, a strong personal voice. The Countess was discriminating about what she wore, and must have driven her tailors, milliner and jeweler to distraction with modifications and customizations. She fought hard to be fabulous. For women of her time there were few avenues to exercise creativity and forge a unique social identity. Here, with her wardrobe, the Countess did.
House of Worth, tea gown, blue cut velvet on a green satin ground, Valenciennes lace, circa 1897. © Stéphane Piera/Galliera/Roger-Viollet.          Â
