Worn On This Day
April 4th, Easter Day, 1915.
It’s hard to look at a picture of First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy in a pink Chanel suit without immediately remembering what happened on November 22, 1963: JFK’s assassination in Dallas. So indelibly has this garment been burned into our collective consciousness that it is inseparable from the tragic events it witnessed.
But November 22 wasn’t the first or the only time Kennedy wore that suit—not by a long shot. Indeed, it was, reportedly, her husband’s favorite. She had worn it in public at least seven times over the previous two years: to accompany her husband to church on November 12, 1961; on a trip to London on March 26, 1962; to review restoration plans for Lafayette Square with architect Carl Warnecke on September 26, 1962; to welcome both the Prime Minister of Algeria and the Maharaja of Jaipur to the White House in October 1962. Yet no one remembers all those other occasions. As far as history is concerned, the suit only existed on November 22.
Had it been any other color than pink, would we remember it at all? Would it speak so eloquently of America’s loss of innocence on that fateful day? Would it be the subject of a novel? Would it have its own Wikipedia page? Would it be on the cover of my new book, Worn on This Day: The Clothes That Made History?
A white suit, or a sunny yellow suit, perhaps, might have made a similar impact, capturing the same shocking contrast between the pale, pristine textile and the red blood that spattered it. Together with the gloves, heels and pillbox hat that accessorized it, the prim and proper suit accentuated the horrors the young and elegant First Lady who wore it suffered that day. But the pink—so youthful and feminine—gave it added pathos, as did the soft, textured bouclé fabric. If it had been black, or navy, or even red, its iconic power might have been diminished.
Lady Bird Johnson recorded her husband’s swearing in on Air Force One later that day in her diary. She wrote: “Mrs. Kennedy’s dress was stained with blood. One leg was almost entirely covered with it and her right glove was caked, it was caked with blood—her husband’s blood. Somehow that was one of the most poignant sights—that immaculate woman, exquisitely dressed, and caked in blood.”
After her husband’s death, Kennedy recalled in an interview that he had asked her to dress simply in Texas, where, he said, “there are going to be all these rich, Republican women... wearing mink coats and diamond bracelets.” Instead of trying to compete with them, Kennedy encouraged his wife to stand out with her usual modern, unfussy style.
And, of course, the boxy suit wasn’t Chanel at all—not technically. It was a line-for-line licensed copy of a suit shown in Chanel’s 1961 Fall/Winter collection, made in the USA by New York boutique Chez Ninon. That’s not to say it was a cheap knockoff—at the time, many foreign designers licensed their designs to US manufacturers, while often providing the materials themselves. The fabric, buttons and trim on Kennedy’s suit came directly from Chanel in Paris. This wasn’t a money-saving tactic but a face-saving one. First Ladies were expected to buy American, and Mrs. Kennedy, a connoisseur of French couture, could claim that her clothes were made in the USA, even if the design and materials came from Paris.
Anthropologist Nicholas Thomas has pointed out that “objects are not what they were made to be but what they have become.” Wearing a garment gives it meaning beyond its material history or monetary worth. Sometimes a pink suit is not just a pink suit, but a sinister talisman—or perhaps a time machine. At the same time, old clothes acquire new and problematic meanings over time. For example, many museums are reluctant to display fur garments today because they may offend animal lovers, even though fur has been an integral element of dress for thousands of years.
Museum curators use the word “provenance” to describe the critical background information that anchors a garment—or any other work of art—in a specific moment in history. In a nutshell, provenance is the ownership history of an object. Something with a verifiable provenance is more valuable, and less likely to have been stolen or faked or otherwise obtained unethically. Every garment in Worn on This Day has two histories: its provenance—how it came to be—and what it came to mean. Each one takes us beyond the who, where and when of fashion history to the elusive how and why.
Instead of the usual linear chronology, starting at one point in history and moving forward over several decades or centuries to another point, the book begins on January 1st and ends on December 31st, looking at garments worn on monumental occasions in different years from the first century right up to the present. Rather than a traditional timeline of changing hemlines and hairstyles, it mashes up styles, stories and personalities, taking the reader on a journey of discovery through fashion’s fascinating history, one day at a time. Prominent figures like George Washington, Marilyn Monroe and Princess Diana appear alongside ordinary people caught up in extraordinary events.
JUNE 9, 1943: Zoot suits worn by young Mexican American men being taken to court, after being rounded up by the Los Angeles police during a week of civil unrest known as the Zoot Suit Riots. Photograph courtesy of Library of Congress.
In many ways, this very narrow lens captures a broader and more inclusive view of fashion history, not limited by time period, geography or nationality. It gives equal footing to people traditionally underrepresented in museum collections: the poor and working class; the marginal and the minorities. For example, it includes the Mexican American men rounded up by the Los Angeles Police Department on June 9, 1943, following a week of civil unrest known as the Zoot Suit riots. Many were arrested for no other crime than their skin color and their fashion choices: the flamboyantly broad-shouldered, high-waisted and wide-legged suits favored by young, urban Black and Latino men.
A traditional chronological narrative might trace the evolution of fashion over decades and centuries, but fashion also evolves through the seasons, bringing Easter bonnets, June brides, Fourth of July stars and stripes, Halloween costumes, and ugly Christmas sweaters. Events like the Oscars, Mardi Gras, the Met Gala, the Kentucky Derby, and the Olympic Games happen around the same time from year to year, making their own highly anticipated fashion statements.
The book includes several “firsts”: the first three-piece suit, worn by King Charles the Second on October 15, 1666. The first baseball uniform—worn by the New York Knickerbockers on April 24, 1849—and consisting of blue woolen pantaloons, white flannel shirts and wide-brimmed straw hats. The first bikini, which made its explosive debut at a poolside press conference in Paris days after the United States tested an atomic weapon in the Bikini Atoll in Micronesia.
It also includes a lot of “lasts”—many garments survive precisely because they were the last one someone wore before their life was tragically cut short by an accident, a natural disaster, or a bullet. The leather jerkin Hendrik Casimir wore when he was mortally wounded in the Battle of Hulst on July 12, 1640, was designed for protection from blades, not bullets; it was no match for the enemy’s powerful new flintlock muskets. King Gustave III of Sweden was costumed for a masquerade ball when he was shot in the hip from behind at the Stockholm Opera House; he died eleven agonizing days later. Even though he was masked, it was easy for his assassin to identify him by the star of the Royal Order of the Seraphim prominently displayed on his chest. Likewise, the clothes Abraham Lincoln wore to Ford’s Theater on the night of his assassination have survived, preserved as relics.
So has the U.S. Navy officer’s boat cloak President Franklin D. Roosevelt wore at the Yalta Conference of Allied leaders in Crimea on February 9, 1945. Designed to keep the wearer warm and dry on the deck of a ship, the long wool and velvet cloak fastened at the neck; the relative ease with which it could be put on and taken off must have made it an attractive alternative to more conventional outerwear for the president, whose movements were hampered by the effects of polio. The long garment also hid his stiff gait and leg braces from view, while giving him a patriotic martial appearance at a time when many American men (and women) were in uniform. By the time he left Yalta, Roosevelt had succeeded in convincing the Soviet Union to join the United Nations and fight against Japan. But his triumph was short-lived: he died of a stroke just two months later, having served an unprecedented twelve years in office.
Sports gear often predicts the future of fashion, introducing high-tech materials and aerodynamic silhouettes that only much later filter down into everyday dress. French tennis star Suzanne Lenglen was the first female tennis player to bare her arms and legs at Wimbledon. People called her revealing outfits “indecent” when she first entered the tournament in 1919, but she became a fashion icon on and off the court. By 1926, it was Lenglen, not Queen Mary, who was the more important fashion influencer. Tennis was one of the first sports open to women, and many of the major cultural debates over women’s clothes and bodies have played out on the tennis court, and continue to do so today.
Jim Thorpe’s astonishing victory at 1912 Olympics in Stockholm was almost derailed by a wardrobe malfunction. On July 14, the second day of the decathlon competition, the Native American athlete discovered that his shoes had been stolen. He found two mismatched cleats in a trash can, but they were different sizes, so Thorpe wore them with extra socks on one foot. He won two of the four events that day—the 110-meter hurdles and the high jump—and took the gold medal by a huge margin of victory. Sweden’s King Gustaf V, who presented it, proclaimed Thorpe “the greatest athlete in the world”—which he confirmed by taking the gold in the pentathlon, as well.
APRIL 19, 1956: Actress Grace Kelly marries Prince Rainier of Monaco in a gown created by the MGM Studios costume department. Photograph courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
A fashion show traditionally ends with a wedding gown, and there are several of them in the book; after all, wedding clothes tend to be precisely dated, and preserved for both their sentimental and monetary value. The royal wedding of one of Hollywood’s brightest stars and one of the world’s most eligible bachelors on April 19, 1956, was both a solemn state occasion and the television event of the year; an estimated thirty million people worldwide watched the ceremony in Monaco’s Saint Nicholas Cathedral. Appropriately, the bride—Grace Kelly—wore a gown created by seasoned experts in onscreen style: the MGM Studios’ wardrobe department.
With its high neck, long sleeves and fan-shaped train, it was appropriate for the traditional Catholic service, but also camera-friendly. “Everything we do is with a view to how it will photograph,” Academy Award–winning head costumer Helen Rose told a reporter. The lace headpiece anchoring the lace-edged silk tulle veil was designed to keep the bride’s face on view; it was decorated with wax orange blossoms, which would not wilt in the spotlights. Kelly was ready for her close-up in a peau de soie gown with a bodice of antique rose point lace, its pattern accentuated by tiny seed pearls and three-dimensional appliqué petals. A high cummerbund of ivory silk faille highlighted the bride’s twenty-one-inch waist. Ever the movie star, Kelly wore shoes of silk, antique lace, seed pearls, and glass beads created by her usual New York shoe designer, David Evins, nicknamed the “King of Pumps,” and $150 pearl-trimmed stockings by Willys, Hollywood’s preferred hosiery maker.
Kelly’s remains one of the most influential wedding gowns ever worn. Its long-sleeved lace bodice and strapless underbodice provided inspiration for another instantly iconic royal wedding gown—the Alexander McQueen gown Kate Middleton wore when she married Prince William on April 29, 2011.
Clothes have a tactile, three-dimensional, you-are-there quality that evokes powerful emotions and memories. They take us back to the moment when history was made, in an instantly relatable and powerfully visceral way that no mere headline can match. These wearable time capsules transcend mere fashion to make up the fabric of history.
SUGGESTED READING
Chrisman-Campbell, Kimberly. Worn On This Day: The Clothes That Made History. Philadelphia: Running Press, 2019.
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Kimberly Chrisman-Campbell is an art historian specializing in fashion and textiles. She has worked as a curator, consultant and educator for museums and universities around the world. She is the author of Fashion Victims: Dress at the Court of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette. Chrisman-Campbell was recently honored by the Costume Society of America, receiving the Betty Kirk Excellence in Research Award. Her latest book Worn on This Day: The Clothes That Made History was recently released by Running Press. In this issue, she offers an intriguing journey through the book, which reveals the stories of clothes worn on specific days throughout history, ancient to modern.
