The Frill Factor

If designers and the fashion press are to be believed, the “strictly a female Female”--a flurry of colorful chiffon ruffles, wavy hair and doe eyes--is ready to reclaim the fashion landscape from the Pussycat Doll.

Yes, ladies, the bare-it-all, heedless silicone siren has been sent quietly to a home for wayward girls. In her place, designers propose a more discreet sister--someone pretty instead of predatory. For spring, designers en masse sent models down the runway in a swirl of Girl. Chiffon, prints, flowers, pleats and soft colors--these spring trends are the material manifestation of femininity.

Women’s clothing is seeing a change in both architecture and building materials. Silhouettes are softer and draped, and the bias cut, which tends to follow the wearer’s curves (think the ‘30s or even Disney Hall) rather than mold them, is a cornerstone.

Fabrics are more pliable. If there’s a metaphorical building block here, it’s chiffon--that delicate, almost translucent fabric easily moved by air currents. In terms of ornamentation, we’re talking gingerbread on a Victorian manse: fabric flowers from Chanel, scalloped edges from Zac Posen, petal-like box pleats from Oscar de la Renta and asymmetrical hemlines across the board.

In a visual context, this is a soft, wallpaper-and-lace curtains look. Southern California, with its warm light, moderate weather, exuberant color scheme and take-it-or-leave-it consumption is one of the best backdrops for this design direction. Because we invented it.

“It’s back to Hollywood glamour,” says Vogue West Coast editor Lisa Love, referring to the place that occupies an enormous amount of real estate in the minds of millions. After all, it was Hollywood that posed Jean Harlow in what was basically lingerie, and Hollywood that showed Depression-era women that someone somewhere (even if it was on a soundstage in Culver City) still wore dramatic furs, elaborate hats, immaculate gloves and flowing gowns.

Los Angeles-based designer Louis Verdad makes no apologies for wanting to see women embrace traditional femininity. In his first solo show in L.A. in October, Verdad caught the attention of fashion editors here and abroad with sophisticated suits and dresses that stood out in a market that often is criticized for its lack of polish. “People get excited because I’m glamorizing women again,” says the designer. “I don’t see that as degrading. I want to take women back where they deserve to be.”

If his spring collection is any indication, Verdad’s woman is a take-no-prisoners femme fatale in a form-fitting, flamboyant suit that leaves little doubt about what lies beneath. Verdad, who counts Madonna and Nicole Kidman among his fans, likes his women on a pedestal. “My woman is strong, opinionated and she’s not afraid to have people look at her, “ he says.

But cultural critic and author Susan Faludi wonders if a woman adorned with chiffon, bows and ruffles signals a sacrifice of feminist ideas by a culture in confusion. Author of “Backlash, the Undeclared War Against American Women,” Faludi focuses on the larger picture.

Praise the new fashions as a “return” to femininity and Faludi points to politics. “I noticed that after 9/11, there was suddenly this announcement in the fashion pages that the traditional feminine, romantic dress was back, and in a number of cases, it was said that it was because women wanted to go back, although no one consulted women on that,” she says. Faludi observes that “it always seems that in times of national insecurity, the zeitgeist seems to be ‘if women were only more traditional, we wouldn’t be in the pickle we’re in.’ ”

Faludi sees parallels in the attitudes about fashion and politics now and in the 1950s. Although Christian Dior’s 1947 launch of his ultrafeminine collection known as the “New Look” was a return to adornment and a celebration of the end of textile rationing after World War II, what is less frequently documented is that not all women embraced it. In one notorious incident, French housewives set upon their more fashionable counterparts, actually ripping the frilly attire off their victims. Faludi also points out that Dior’s pretty clothes arrived as Rosie the Riveter was reassigned (with little discussion) from her wartime job making battleships to her peacetime job making babies. Faludi’s larger point, however, is that although our culture remembers the 1950s as a time of comfort, it was also a time of great uncertainty--not unlike today. “You only have to screen ‘Dr. Strangelove’ ... to see that,” she says, referring to Stanley Kubrick’s scathing 1964 satire about nuclear war.

Costume and fashion designer Shelley Komarov, who has worked on biographical projects such as the TV movies “Introducing Dorothy Dandridge” and “A Woman Named Jackie,” also sees a geopolitical angle to ruffles and prints. “For the last few years, since the beginning of the 21st century, I’ve seen less interesting fashion, and I think one reason was the whole economy was depressed. You had wars, upheaval,” she says. “This year, designers are finally seeing that they can do things that are more elaborate and more interesting. They allowed themselves to be more creative because they think the [fashion] market has recovered.”

Like Faludi, she sees fashion history repeating itself in reaction to the political climate. During World War II, “Fashion was very masculine. After Dior launched the ‘New Look,’ it was like a rebirth--everything got feminine, big skirts, small waists, elaborate hats. I don’t want to say this is the same thing, but I do think people again got tired of minimalism, and they were ready for something new,” Komarov says.

Makeup artist Jillian Fink Dempsey says the “new pretty” is a backlash to the sexy, skin-baring looks that recently have dominated fashion in L.A. “Women got tired of seeing so much of the hard stuff. They wanted something fresher, softer, prettier.” Like clothing designers, cosmetic companies are moving toward a more feminine face. Dempsey has added peach, mauve and soft pink hues to her Delux makeup line, while Chanel’s spring palette includes iridescent pastel offerings in pale pinks, soft bronzes and frosted champagne. As much as the push for pretty may be fueled by a longing for a return to an imagined “normalcy,” Dempsey observes that this softer look falls far outside the realm of Woman as Sex Object. “You won’t be seeing this fashion on the cover of Maxim,” she says.

Lisa Love invokes the concept of chic in characterizing the emphasis on prettiness, and in doing so, perhaps renders the essence of the look. “This is feminine chic,” Love says. “This is a celebration and an affirmation of femininity--and the women who are wearing it are serious women, with serious careers, and they’re very confident about how they’re portraying themselves.”

Faludi says that frivolity has its place. “This is a very grim time we’re going through, and that sort of thing is gently amusing. It probably speaks to a need we have for some lightness in our lives.”