Literary clothing

UmmLila (Lisa)

I just started a new book (The Two Doctors Górski) and I’m already drawn in by this description of the protagonist’s clothing:

“For the first session of the graduate seminar, she wore a brownish lipstick, and her classiest skirt with the big plaid and no elastic, and a shawl she'd knitted from yarn with a dull sugary sparkle, in a pattern designed to look like human DNA. Then she'd taken the shawl off. It was an affectation for the old Annae, the one who had always tried to please-others, and herself. The skirt was dangerously close to being affected too, with its velvet ribbon trim, but it was also uncomfortable, which showed that she was a serious person.“

Do you have any such saved quotes that appeal to you?

1 year ago

Inspiration

13 replies

Latest reply was from UmmLila (Lisa)

Sloper

Veteran

Oh yes - I adore clothing descriptions in books. I have to go snoop around for a few to share.

1 year ago

Sloper

Veteran

From Somerset Maugham’s short story, Jane (1931)
A middle-aged, provincial widow marries a young architect, who sees qualities and a uniqueness in her, and designs a wardrobe only she can wear. There’s more to the story of course. It’s not so much about what she wears but the transformation and how people react to it.

"I think I should tell you that she's here to-night."

"Here?"

I was startled. I looked round the table again. Our hostess was a delightful and an entertaining woman, but I could not imagine that she would be likely to invite to a dinner such as this the elderly and dowdy wife of an obscure architect. Mrs. Tower saw my perplexity and was shrewd enough to see what was in my mind. She smiled thinly.

"Look on the left of our host."

I looked. Oddly enough the woman who sat there had by her fantastic appearance attracted my attention the moment I was ushered into the crowded drawing-room. I thought I noticed a gleam of recognition in her eye, but to the best of my belief I had never seen her before. She was not a young woman, for her hair was iron-grey; it was cut very short and clustered thickly round her well-shaped head in tight curls. She made no attempt at youth, for she was conspicuous in that gathering by using neither lipstick, rouge nor powder. Her face, not a particularly handsome one, was red and weather-beaten; but because it owed nothing to artifice had a naturalness that was very pleasing. It contrasted oddly with the whiteness of her shoulders. They were really magnificent. A woman of thirty might have been proud of them. But her dress was extraordinary. I had not often seen anything more audacious. It was cut very low, with short skirts, which were then the fashion, in black and yellow; it had almost the effect of fancy-dress and yet so became her that though on anyone else it would have been outrageous, on her it had the inevitable simplicity of nature. And to complete the impression of an eccentricity in which there was no pose and of an extravagance in which there was no ostentation she wore, attached by a broad black ribbon, a single eyeglass.

"You're not going to tell me that is your sister-in-law," I gasped.

1 year ago

Suz

(website)

Veteran

Oh, these are fabulous!

When I think of literary fashion I think of Virginia Woolf, of course -- she was obsessed with clothes.

But I also think of George Eliot's description of Gwendolen Harleth in Daniel Deronda:

The Nereid in sea-green robes and silver ornaments, with a pale sea-green feather fastened in silver falling backward over her green hat and light brown hair, was Gwendolen Harleth. She was under the wing, or rather soared by the shoulder, of the lady who had sat by her at the roulette-table; and with them was a gentleman with a white mustache and clipped hair: solid-browed, stiff and German. They were walking about or standing to chat with acquaintances, and Gwendolen was much observed by the seated groups.

“A striking girl—that Miss Harleth—unlike others.”

“Yes, she has got herself up as a sort of serpent now—all green and silver, and winds her neck about a little more than usual.”

“Oh, she must always be doing something extraordinary. She is that kind of girl, I fancy. Do you think her pretty, Mr. Vandernoodt?”

And the scenes in Little Women that concern clothes, and whether they have the right ones: (Green seems to be a theme in these descriptions...)

For the March girls, springtime signaled new beginnings, new opportunities, and new dreams. Meg was already off to a good start that season, having been invited to several parties hosted by her wealthy friends. "What shall I wear?" was her most frequent complaint lately.

Looking through the closet, Meg pulled out a light green dress and held it up to her body. Through the mirror, she could see that it suited her complexion and enhanced the color of her eyes. But the dress was quite a few years old, and its hem was worn. "Oh, what should I do?" Meg let out a sigh of frustration.

"What's the matter, Meg?" asked Beth, walking in with an armful of folded laundry.

Relieving her of some of the burden, Meg explained, "Annie Moffat is having a party this Saturday and I haven't got anything to wear."

Beth replied thoughtfully, "You have many beautiful dresses, Meg."

"But they're so old!" complained Meg. "Annie and the others will all have new silk dresses in this year's style, and I'll be the only one wearing an old, ugly dress."

"I think you'll be the prettiest girl at the party, whatever you wear," Beth remarked. Cheering up a little at her sister's kind words, Meg continued with Beth's help to search for something to wear.

"What about this dress?" Beth asked, pulling out a white gown with blue flowers all over it.

Meg examined it closely for rips, holes, or stains but could not find any. In fact, the dress was in tip-top condition and it did flatter her a lot. "Thank you, Beth. This dress will have to do," Meg approved wholeheartedly.

But we know that one doesn't end so well ...

1 year ago

Jaime

(website)

Veteran

Amazing thread! I do not have any specific recollections to share but it did make me think of Linda Grant's book The Clothes on their Backs.

1 year ago

UmmLila (Lisa)

Veteran

Now I need to find a description of Undine Spragg’s clothing, since you and Angie are both going down the river of dark mermaids….
And also read the Maugham story

1 year ago

Anonymous

I like this one from “The Dead,” by James Joyce. It combines literature, fashion, and art:

”He stood still in the gloom of the hall, trying to catch the air that the voice was singing and gazing up at his wife. There was grace and mystery in her attitude as if she were a symbol of something. He asked himself what is a woman standing on the stairs in the shadow, listening to distant music, a symbol of. If he were a painter he would paint her in that attitude. Her blue felt hat would show off the bronze of her hair against the darkness and the dark panels of her skirt would show off the light ones. Distant Music he would call the picture if he were a painter.”

1 year ago

kkards

Veteran

I don’t have any quotes, but like Suz, when I thing]k about clothing in books, I always think of “Little Women”. Clothing did seem to have an outsized role in the book.

I also go back to one of the Little House On The Prairie, “These Happy Golden Years”. In it Laura works for the town seamstress and there is much talk about what fashion is showing in the cities, and what’s appropriate to wear to her wedding.

1 year ago

Sloper

Veteran

Yes - I always enjoyed and was fascinated by the clothing descriptions in the Little House books - especially the dress they make for Mary before she goes away to the school for the blind, and Laura's black wedding dress. "Married in black, you'll wish yourself back." I think I remember more of Ma's sayings than those of any other person.

The Old Wives' Tale by Arnold Bennett is about two sisters in 19th century industrial England - lots of clothing talk because of their family business. The headstrong sister Sophia runs away to Paris with a traveling salesman, and buys French clothes:

Sophia had gone in trembling and ashamed, yet in her heart courageously determined to emerge uncompromisingly French. But the models frightened her. They surpassed even the most fantastic things that she had seen in the streets. She recoiled before them and seemed to hide for refuge in Gerald, as it were appealing to him for moral protection, and answering to him instead of to the saleswoman when the saleswoman offered remarks in stiff English. The prices also frightened her. The simplest trifle here cost sixteen pounds; and her mother’s historic ‘silk,’ whose elaborateness had cost twelve pounds, was supposed to have approached the inexpressible! Gerald said that she was not to think about prices. She was, however, forced by some instinct to think about prices—she who at home had scorned the narrowness of life in the Square. In the Square she was understood to be quite without commonsense, hopelessly imprudent; yet here, a spring of sagacity seemed to be welling up in her all the time, a continual antidote against the general madness in which she found herself. With extraordinary rapidity she had formed a habit of preaching moderation to Gerald. She hated to ‘see money thrown away,’ and her notion of the boundary line between throwing money away and judiciously spending it was still the notion of the Square.

Gerald would laugh. But she would say, piqued and blushing, but self-sure: “You can laugh!” It was all deliciously agreeable.

On this evening she wore the first of the new costumes. She had worn it all day. Characteristically she had chosen something which was not too special for either afternoon or evening, for either warm or cold weather. It was of pale blue taffetas striped in a darker blue, with the corsage cut in basques, and the underskirt of a similar taffetas, but unstriped. The effect of the ornate overskirt falling on the plain underskirt with its small double volant was, she thought, and Gerald too, adorable. The waist was higher than any she had had before, and the crinoline expansive. Tied round her head with a large bow and flying blue ribbons under the chin, was a fragile flat capote like a baby’s bonnet, which allowed her hair to escape in front and her great chignon behind. A large spotted veil flew out from the capote over the chignon. Her double skirts waved amply over Gerald’s knees in the carriage, and she leaned back against the hard cushions and put an arrogant look into her face, and thought of nothing but the intense throbbing joy of life, longing with painful ardour for more and more pleasure, then and for ever.

1 year ago

Runcarla

Veteran

I’m a fan of regency period books - good and bad! - and have resource books with details of what would be historically accurate for the time, including big chapters on dress. I adore when an author describes both men’s and women’s clothing, and often go to resource books or the internet when a particular fabric or article of clothing is mentioned with which I am not familiar.

Last night I was reading a short novella, and thought of this thread. We fist meet the heroine, seen through the eyes of a fastidious bachelor.

”A vision in crimson and green entered the room. No, not a vision, Royce amended silently. More a sight. Liza had no clothing sense. Morning, noon, or night, she was always arrayed in the most outlandish colours. This morning, her crimson gown and matching pelisse were the height of simplicity, but the yellow half boots and the green turban were a shocking testament to the fact that she needed the advice of a good dresser.” - Two Hearts by Karen Hawkins

Funny aside. For years I had read young unmarried women in the regency period wore white and pastels, including a colour called primrose. In North America I had only ever seen the very bright dark yellow primroses in spring gardens, and could never quite reconcile the written description with what I saw in my mind’s eye. Then, maybe 7 years ago, I spent the month of April in Ireland and England. Whilst DH played golf, I went on long cross country hikes. The ditches were full of the prettiest pale yellow flowers. On closer examination, I recognized them as primroses. Wild primroses. Likely the ancestors of our heavily hybridized garden varieties - and the description made sense!

This post has 2 photos. Photos uploaded by this member are only visible to other logged in members.

If you aren't a member, but would like to participate, please consider signing up. It only takes a minute and we'd love to have you.

1 year ago

Indigoprint

Veteran

On a lighter note, who could forget Anne Shirley and her puff sleeved dress?

1 year ago

Jenni NZ

Veteran

Yay Indigoprint I agree! I think that may have been the first clothing preference that really impressed itself on me as a young girl.

1 year ago

rachylou

Veteran

Argh. I can’t remember the title of this teen girl’s book I read. I loved this book. The girl goes shopping for a coat and the sales lady says she has a ‘neat, trim little figure’ and I found that such a delight as a 12-year-old, lol. I’m sure it had to be one of those 50s girls books

1 year ago

UmmLila (Lisa)

Veteran

Rachy, is that maybe one of the Betsy and Taco books?

1 year ago

Category