02: Bows and Nostalgia
Schiaparelli's Bow Sweater, Suzanne Rae, Shoe Clips, ShuShu/Tong, and Sandy Liang
In the June 1980 issue of Vogue, the editors reported, “All over Paris, all over Milan —suddenly, there’s a very feminine charm of a bow! We saw them on dresses and on jackets, on shoes, and tied at the neck; but the prettiest way bows turned up — in hair.”
A month ago, a year late to the trend, I made my boyfriend stop at the craft store for ribbon because I could not shake the feeling I was destined to wear a giant bow at the back of my head. I picked out three -- a thick wide black satin, a sheer black polyester version of what looks like silk organza, and a light gray with a little shimmer. I tied them to metal barrettes that evening while I watched Girls on HBO and later for cocktails with my best friend I wore the fake organza one with a real organza blouse and I loved it.
I started this newsletter immediately following the publication of last Sunday’s. I wanted to talk about everyone’s favorite accessory — the bow. As I researched, mulled, considered, and pulled images from the gallery I keep in my brain over the course of the week, I realized, this is not really about the bows themselves but the feeling of nostalgia they produce. So, this is a newsletter about bows and by extension, one about nostalgia. Or maybe it's the other way around.
The Shoes I Almost Bought Twice
This week I almost bought a pair of shoes that I almost bought when I was 15. I have thought of them frequently — Miu Miu Mary Janes in lavender and white with silver glitter. I secretely love purple and am certain if I couldn’t wear black or gray ever again, I’d wear shades of purple. They were the first designer purchase I almost ever made when they went on sale for $300 some dollars at Nordstrom, not that I could actually even afford them. I didn’t buy them then and by the time I decided to buy them now, they were gone.
In the process of deciding I kept asking myself why I wanted them all — is it to satisfy my 16-year-old self? Do I really just like mary janes again? As I envisioned myself wearing them in winter with black trousers and a cashmere sweater and in spring with grey tights and a grey skirt, I got excited. It is probably best that I didn’t buy them although I can’t help but feel disappointed. I am a sentimental person and I think the shoes remind me of a time when I was very excited about fashion and my future within it.
The Shoes I Bought Instead
Instead, I bought a pair of Black Mary Janes from the Courtney Love x Nasty Gal collection. This was in the Sophia Amaruso #GIRLBOSS days before Sophia was been exposed for creating a toxic and racist workplace environment and you could get great deals on Jeffrey Campbells during the Nasty Gal sales.
The heel was rhinestone clad and the strap across the foot was embellished with a small black bow. I wore them until both heel caps fell off, the bows unraveled, and I no longer liked mary janes. My favorite way to wear them was with a black and white peterpan collared dress from Z*ra and my 1960s leopard print coat from Trove in Seattle (RIP). They were clearly Miu Miu knock-offs but to me, they were the next best thing. The collection itself was very nostalgic, feminine and delicate and full of grunge references very similar to Courtney’s 90s style. Pink babydoll dresses with white knee highs, black velvet collars, and mary janes. Blue babydoll dresses with ripped fish nets and black lingerie. I bought the shoes the day they were released for $125 with my Christmas money.
Elsa Schiaparelli and her Bow Sweater
When I thought this was going to be solely about bows, I wanted to start with Schiaparelli. It’s not a history that starts with Schiaparelli but I think my love of them does. Elsa Schiaparelli designed her first garment, the infamous black and white bow sweater in 1927 because she did not like the way she looked in the contemporary “sports clothes” of the time. It’s incredible to imagine anyone ever wore wool sweaters to play sports but Glenna Collett wore the bow sweater when she won the 1929 Women’s National Golf championship in 1929.
When Schiaparelli began her career she was involved in the Surrealist and Dadaist movement in Paris and her work reflected this. While tamer than many of her later works (see Schiaparelli’s Tear Dress), the bow sweater is an illusion known as trompe l’oeil where a three-dimensional object is portrayed on a two-dimensional surface. Lord and Taylor 5th Avenue ordered 40 copies of the sweater and she obliged with the help of an Armenian knitter known as ‘Mike’ because Schiap herself did not know how to knit. Thus, the bow began Schiaparelli’s career.
Trompe L’oeil of the 1980s
1980s Bow Sweater 1, 1980s Bow Sweater 2, 1980s Bow Sweater 3, 1980s Bow Sweater 4
In the 1980s, the bow made a striking reemergence. The pussy-bow blouse became an emblem of women in the workplace — one I can’t stand probably because they remind me of Margaret Thatcher, Nancy Reagan, and laissez-faire economics. It should not surprise any of you that I don’t gravitate towards the 1980s but recently, amidst all the bows I see on Instagram and the oversized gaudy jewelry, I can’t help but admire them.
I’ve had these 1980s trompe l’oeil sweaters saved in my eBay likes for months — they remind me of Schiaparelli and I adore them.
Emanuel Ungaro and Oscar De La Renta placed them on top of heads. Comme Des Garcons employed covered dresses in oversized ones for SS 1987. Yves Saint Laurent quite literally put bows on everything — the backs of dresses, the fronts of dresses, the tops of heads, the toes of shoes, the lobes of ears, and the sleeves of sweaters. There’s an undeniable opulence to 1980s fashion that make bows and ribbons an appropriate adornment to the decade.
Yves Saint Laurent’s Le Smoking and Other Bows
This could, in all honestly, be a newsletter comprised entirely of photos of Yves Saint Laurent’s love of bows. I don’t know if anyone would say Yves Saint Laurent was known for bows but perhaps they should. In 2016, the Yves Saint Laurent retrospective came to the Seattle Art Museum. This exhibit is still one of my favorite fashion memories. I remember my favorite garment very clearly — it wasn’t a gown even though they were all beautiful, it was Le Smoking. In 1966, Yves Saint Laurent released a tuxedo for women in his couture line called Le Smoking. The tuxedo challenged traditional ideas of women’s dress — it was a suit intended to liberate and here it was with a bow around the neck and one on top of the head. I mean, look at it, it is absolutely perfect. If I got married tomorrow, this is what I’d like to be wearing.
Photos from Musee YSL Paris
Pictured below: the photo I took of Le Smoking at the Yves Saint Laurent retrospective, mine and Sheila’s tickets, and me standing in front of the exhibit sign with the worst bout of cystic acne I have ever experienced. My face is so insanely swollen I don’t recognize myself.
And of course, some of his 80’s bows. Both the hat and dress are A/W 1987. If you are on the market for an oversized hat that costs the same as my rent, you can buy this one here. If I had more places to go, I’d happily wear it.
Even Tom Ford’s YSL was covered in bows.
Suzanne Rae: Moire Silk and the Return of the Shoe Clip
I have been a long-time admirer of the Brooklyn-based Suzanne Rae, I wore my Velcro Platforms religiously this summer. These Suzanne Rae heels are undeniably fabulous but the shoes themselves are not what caught my attention despite my love of moire silk.
My frivolous New Year’s resolution to spend more time accessorizing has sent me into the depths of eBay, through old issues of Vogue, and fifty-six pages into the Victoria and Albert Museum’s online fashion archive in search of accessories. Last week, I discussed the return of the hat but this week— the return of the shoe clip.
The shoe clip is quite possibly the most tragically forgotten accessory of the last 100 years besides gilded cigarette cases and fancy lighters. The shoe clip rose to prominence in the 18th century as a way for women to make the most of a small shoe collection. They are essentially clip-on earrings for your shoes. With a couple of pairs of shoe clips for day, evening, and church women didn’t need a separate pair of shoes for every occasion, they could just accessorize the few pairs they did have. Within the context of periods of economic uncertainty — World War I, The Great Depression, and World War II — the shoe clip makes sense. And perhaps, right now, its comeback does too. By the 1960s, the shoe clip fell out of fashion. The decline of the shoe clip represents a heartbreaking departure from a culture of sustainability in fashion that prioritizes making the most of what you already own.
Years ago, I worked at a vintage store where shoe clips sat in the case collecting dust. I’ve been thinking a lot about them recently, I wonder if they are still there and want me to rescue them.
I bought a set of three on eBay around my birthday last month for about $10 because I am obsessed with mother of pearl and this pair of rhinestone bows earlier this week because they seemed fitting for this week’s topic. I have also been admiring this lot but I think nine more pairs would be overkill. I also love this 1930s set. I am excitingly considering all the possibilities (as in also using them as hair accessories).
Before I forget, this 1980s Victor Costa Moire Dress is fabulous.
ShuShu/Tong
ShuShu/Tong SS21, SS23, SS21 and SS22
Nostalgia is the reason I’m drawn to the hyper-feminine and playful designs of Liushu Lei and Yutong Jiang for ShuShu/Tong. They make clothes I would’ve loved when I was discovering fashion in my early teens - playful, feminine, youthful, and sometimes borderline tacky. I loved Vivetta, Molly Goddard, Miu Miu, and the beginning of Alessandro Michele’s reign at Gucci for all the same reasons.
Sandy Liang
Sandy Liang, too, has made the bow an integral part of her whimsically feminine look. On Friday, Sandy Liang presented another bow-filled ballet-meets-school girl-inspired collection at New York Fashion Week. Every internet it-girl was in attendance in their Sandy Liang Mary Jane pointe flats and flouncy dresses. The collection itself was full of delightfully feminine eyelet fabrics, sheer lace, soft pleats, the miniest of mini skirts, and Metropolitan-esque taffeta dresses.
The runway photos are by Filippo Fior and the others are by @stolenbesos on Instagram.
I, like everyone else, adored the hairbows, and there is no doubt in my mind that the fine girls of Tik Tok will devour the look as well. I imagine it will be recreated sometime today if it hasn’t been already.
The Shopping List
Agnes B. Blazer, Vintage Bow Earrings, Moschino Chip and Chic Skirt, Vintage Beaded Bag, Prada Satin Kitten Heels, Yves Saint Laurent Silk Scarf
In a lot of ways, nostalgia drives fashion. It propels us both backward and forward simultaneously. Of course, in the age of rampant overproduction and consumption, nostalgia can propel the trend cycle even faster. But it also has the power to impact personal styling in meaningful ways. Bows remind me of being 16, of discovering my love of fashion, of designs like Le Smoking that I adored, and of pieces like my Courtney Love x Nasty Gal mary janes that I cherished. Now, I am gravitating towards them in new ways, through 1980s fashion and the work of Sandy Liang and ShuShu/Tong which feels equally as inspiring. My style feels the most personal when I am wearing something, like bows, that transcends one moment in time and feels deeply sentimental.
Last week, I lovingly promised I would include something I hate. There was no place for hate in this post, but if you got this far, I’ll leave you with this: I think hard seltzers are disgusting, Bottega Green has to be the most atrocious color I’ve ever seen and I hate Aritzia content. I make no promises for next week. You’ll just have to wait and see.