Thin Lines

Norman Hartnell
Court Presentation Dress and Jacket
1939
bias-cut silk-satin with embroidery 
National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne

Madame Grès
Evening Gown
1945
silk jersey
National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne

Adrian
(Adrian Adolph Greenburg)
Evening Gown
1945
printed rayon crepe
Phoenix Art Museum, Arizona

Emilio Pucci
Ensemble
1965
printed cashmere-nylon knit (dress)
printed nylon knit (tights)
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Gérard Pipart for Nina Ricci
Dress
1968
printed silk, silk-chiffon, ostrich feathers
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Manuel Pertegaz
Evening Gown
ca. 1968-69
screenprinted silk jersey
Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto

Emilio Pucci
Dress
ca. 1970
printed silk knit
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Gaston Berthelot for House of Chanel
Suit
1972
wool will
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Patrick-Kelly
Dress
1985
wool knit
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Patrick-Kelly
Dress
1986
wool-spandex knit, plastic buttons
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Jean-Paul Gaultier
Bodysuit
1988
cotton knit
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Calvin Klein
Pantsuit
1988
wool crepe
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Calvin Klein
Dress
1992
cotton knit
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Issey Miyake
Dress
1994
polyester taffeta
National Gallery of Australia, Canberra

Giambattista Valli for Emanuel Ungaro
Pantsuit
2004
wool blend (jacket), printed silk chiffon (blouse)
printed silk twill (trousers)
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Yohji Yamamoto
 Dress
2007
printed silk crepe
Philadelphia Museum of Art

Parable of the Hostages

The Greeks are sitting on the beach

wondering what to do when the war ends. No one

wants to go home, back

to that bony island; everyone wants a little more

of what there is in Troy, more

life on the edge, that sense of every day as being

packed with surprises. But how to explain this

to the ones at home to whom

fighting a war is a plausible

excuse for absence, whereas

exploring one's capacity for diversion

is not. Well, this can be faced

later; these

are men of action, ready to leave 

insight to the women and children.

Thinking things over in the hot sun, pleased

by a new strength in their forearms, which seem

more golden than they did at home, some

begin to miss their families a little,

to miss their wives, to want to see

if the war has aged them. And a few grow 

slightly uneasy: what if war

is just a male version of dressing up,

a game devised to avoid

profound spiritual questions? Ah,

but it wasn't only the war. The world had begun

calling them, an opera beginning with the war's

loud chords and ending with the floating aria of the sirens.

There on the beach, discussing the various

timetables for getting home, no one believed

it could take ten years to get back to Ithaca;

no one foresaw that decade of insoluble dilemmas – oh unanswerable

affliction of the human heart: how to divide

the world's beauty into acceptable

and unacceptable loves! On the shores of Troy,

how could the Greeks know

they were hostage already: who once

delays the journey is

already enthralled; how could they know

that of their small number

some would be held forever by the dreams of pleasure,

some by sleep, some by music?

– Louise Glück (1996)