FASHION : The White House of Style : Exhibit examines First Ladies’ impacts on history, which for better or worse often came via their choice of clothes.
The Madame President exhibit at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library is more than just a fashion show--at least that’s what we were told upon arriving at the display last week. It is instead a tribute to the First Ladies of America and their roles in history.
We did notice that the collection includes The Time Magazine cover naming Betty Ford Woman of the Year, Hillary Rodham Clinton’s law degree, and about 190 pieces of clothing and jewelry.
Clearly, one of the major roles of First Ladies from the start has been to set fashion standards for the rest of us to copy, or alternately, to poke fun at. So, we personally were delighted with the fashionable tone of the artifacts, and the contrasts they showed, such as Frances Cleveland’s ermine-lined velvet wrap and Mamie Eisenhower’s pink bed jacket.
These two ladies were big hits with American women and had a lot of influence on how they dressed--one avant garde, the other sort of heartland mawkish.
It is recorded that Mrs. Cleveland’s low necklines caused the National Women’s Temperance Convention to send word to the White House that her clothing was “immodest and fraught with dangerous and immoral influences,” to which the White House is said to have made no reply.
On the other hand, Mamie Eisenhower, a staunch anti-feminist who “never knew what a woman would want to be liberated from,” influenced a lot of fans to dress and to decorate their homes in sweetheart pink. But here’s a surprise: Mrs. Eisenhower was named the 11th best-dressed woman of 1952 by the New York Dress Institute.
After Mamie left the White House, Jacqueline Kennedy steered fashion with her famous pillbox hats and straight-cut suits, which are not represented in the exhibit. On display instead is her Oleg Cassini ivory-colored inaugural gown, which looks simple, considering that its owner reportedly spent more on clothes during her husband’s term than he earned as President.
Near this gown is a black taffeta dress of Eleanor Roosevelt’s, who we would safely guess never laid eyes on a designer in her life. Like many activists, she ignored fashion and was known to wear dresses that cost $10, which we would love to have seen.
Another thrifty First Lady was Martha Washington, who actually recycled her dresses, according to notes at the exhibit, dismantling worn garments and rewinding the thread to use again. When she died, most of her remaining clothes were cut into pieces for souvenirs. The display includes only a pair of her detachable linen sleeves.
Of the outfits collected, some better than others seem to represent the tastes of their owners. Barbara Bush’s image is just right with a no-nonsense blue suit plus her claim to fashion fame, a faux pearl choker. Nancy Reagan, who probably set the record for wardrobe size among all the White House residents, is symbolized by an ice green pleated dress, which she wore to Prince Andrew and Fergie’s wedding.
From Mrs. Truman’s effects comes an unexciting navy ensemble, which seems right since she was known for no style influence. However, her husband is credited with popularizing the Hawaiian shirt--a stubborn trend, which apparently can never be totally eradicated.
The collection shows a fascinating march of history from Abigail Adams’ whalebone corset and Angelica Van Buren’s parasol to Grace Coolidge’s flapper-like silver gown and Mrs. Nixon’s Red Cross uniform.
But, when you come to the end of the gallery, you realize there’s been an oversight on the part of the committee that pulled this thing together.
Unlikely as it may seem, nowhere is there represented the current First Lady’s unique contribution to style: the headband.
We are willing to bet a lot more women in this country have bought headbands than have entered law school since Hillary showed up on the scene. In case you are unaware of it, she is widely credited with a surge in headband sales that still has not plunged.
Alas, a few elitist critics have since discouraged her from wearing the accessory--along with other so-called frumpy fashions. But to us, its appeal remains.
Think about it. Which would you prefer to see, one of Elvis’ recording contracts, or his American Eagle Jumpsuit? It’s that tangible quality we want here; the immediacy, the pathos of a personal artifact.
More than just a fashion show--oh, yes. It’s that intimate touch we long for, the chance to savor an icon’s frumpy headband. That’s what this country’s all about. Yeah.
