Thursday, April 21, 2011

She does not like the English dress


She thought that if Mary’s dress, which was singularly and gaudily decorated has a less savage aspect, she might look more natural to her; and she signed to her to remove the mantle she wore, made of birds’ feathers, woven together with threads of wild nettle. Mary threw it aside, and disclosed her person, light and agile as a fawn’s, clothed with skins, neatly fitted to her waist and arms, and ambitiously embellished with bead work. The removal of the mantel, instead of the effect designed, only served to make more striking the aboriginal peculiarities; and Hope, shuddering and heartsick, made one more effort to disguise them by taking off her silk cloak and wrapping it close around her sister. Mary seemed instantly to comprehend the language of the action, she shook her head, gently disengaged herself from the cloak, and resumed her mantle. An involuntary exclamation of triumph burst from Oneco’s lips. “Oh tell her,” said Hope to Magawisca, “that I want once more to see her in the dress of her own people—of her own family—from whose arms she was torn to be dragged into captivity.”
A faint smile curled Magawisca’s lip, but she interpreted faithfully Hope’s communication, and Mary’s reply, “ ‘she does not like the English dress,’ she says”
(239.)

This passage from Catharine Maria Sedgwick's novel, Hope Leslie, may be one of my favorites from the entire work. Not only is it a striking scene between Mary and Hope, but on a shallow level I can relate to that, and certainly other girls like myself can as well. In my teen years, I used to identify with a variety of different sub cultures (punk, goth, indie, hipster, the list goes on) and by extension would dress in a style appropriate for the respective scene. In response to this, my family would be confused or horrified by what I chose to wear and begged for me to dress in something they considered to be more socially acceptable. Though my teenaged self's relation to culture and fashion may be trivial in comparison to Mary's, I like to think that we were vaguely on the same page with this topic. Fashion does play a part in the cultures we identify with, as evident in the above passage. Just as I dyed my hair black and forced myself to listen to my uncle's Bauhaus tapes when I identified as a goth during freshman year of high school, Mary has fully embraced the Native American culture she grown up with while in captivity, as we can see by the clothing she wears. Her refusal to wearing the cloak, a representation of "English dress," demonstrates her faithfulness to her own culture as well as the rejection of her born culture. To wear the cloak, she would be literally concealing her cultural attire, which in a sense would hide away her identity.


How I imagine Mary's Native American apparel.
I also noticed something interesting about the appearance of the "cloak" throughout the novel. The verb form of cloak implies the clothing or hiding away of something, which is precisely what Hope is doing to her sister. On one hand, Hope is covering her sister with this garment in an attempt to rekindle the image of the "English dressed" sister she had lost as a child. However, she is also concealing the reminder that Mary is no longer the sister she once knew, and now "savage" in dress and culture. In a sense, this exchange between sisters resembles English culture imposing their ways upon the Native Americans. Though Hope is in a sense trying to win back her sister, we can still view the attempt to cover Mary up with the cloak as an act of English influence trying to dominate the native culture.


On the subject of cloaks and domination, there is another passage in the text that mirrors these ideas, that being the scene of Sir Philip offering Hope Leslie his cloak:
"Now, thanks to my good stars, that I am so fortunate as to meet you; suffer me to wrap my cloak about you; you will be drenched with this pitiless rain."
"Oh no, no," she said, "the cloak will but encumber me. I am already drenched, and I shall be at home directly," and she would have left him, but he caught her arm, and gently detained her, while he enveloped her in his cloak" (201-202). I find this seemingly platonic exchange rather disturbing and to a point violating. The conversation doesn't seem to actually be about the clothing article, but rather a conversation about their relationship in disguised. (A cloaked conversation about cloaks, if you please!) The sentence "suffer me to wrap my cloak about you" sounds rather sexual, perhaps alluding to Sir Philip's desires to wrap himself about her. In addition, Hope's claim that the cloak will "encumber her" possibly suggests that Sir Philip is truly the one who is a burden on her, as I don't see how a cloak on a rainy day would be a bad thing. It is not the cloak Hope is refusing, it is the man. Nevertheless, we see Sir Philip's display of sexual dominance by forcing the shawl upon her despite her refusal. The word choices contribute to the particular disturbing quality of the scene. The fact that he is "detaining" her gives the sense that Hope is trapped, and the "envelopment" of the cloak around her conveys a smothering sensation.
I can surely understand why Mary is opposed to the English dress.

Girls before garments (alternative title: Boys and blue bonnets)

“…go to my aunt, and ask her for my blue bodice and necklace. But no—”she said, stopping Jennet, for she recollected that she had directed the blue bodice because it matched her blue fillet, Everell’s gift, and a secret voice told her she had best, under existing circumstances, lay that favorite badge aside. “No, Jennet, bring me my pink bodice, and my ruby locket.” Jennet obeyed, but not without muttering as she left the room, a remonstrance against the vanities of dress (146).A collage portrayal of Hope Leslie's fashion options.

Apparently, the idea of "bros before hoes" existed even in early America.

In this passage from Sedgwick's Hope Leslie, we are given the idea that clothing can be a method of displaying love and faithfulness, but the refusal to wear a certain garment also demonstrates these feelings to others. When initially reviewing this passage, I, like Jennet, thought that Hope was being narcissistic and annoyingly picky about her appearance (perhaps a little aunt Grafton-esque, in other words). Of course, it would be odd for Hope to be overly concerned about her outward appearance being as lovely as possible. However, upon looking closely at the quote it is obvious that Hope's sudden desire to change her wardrobe is out of respect for her friend Esther. In this case, wearing Everell's gift of the "blue fillet" is Hope's silent declaration of her love for him. Of course, this concept is not something solely genuine in the world of Hope Leslie. I consider this to be similar to the cliche high school romance traditions of wearing your boyfriend's Letterman jacket or class ring. I myself fell habit of wearing a bracelet that an old boyfriend of mine had given me for Valentines day. To wear a certain clothing article from your beloved on a regular basis reaffirms the affections you have towards them. We can see this in the following quote:

“I tell Hope, one does not want always to see the same thing; and she doth continually wear it—granted, it keeps the curls out of her eyes, and they do look lovely falling about it, but she wears it, week-days and Sundays, feast days and fast days” (121).

In the eyes of her aunt, her persistent wearing of the headpiece is a fashion faux pas, though the reader may see this as Hope Leslie repeatedly and openly displaying her affections for Everell by flaunting his gift. But, as the first quote implies, it is important to hide the symbols of one's affections for the sake of a friendship. Knowing that her friend, Esther, also has romantic interests in Everell Fletcher, Hope decides not to wear the accessory that she associates with her beloved. From this gesture, we can see how truly devoted a friend Hope Leslie is. By passing up an opportunity to wear the blue fillet, Hope is not only acknowledging that she must wear a completely different outfit, but that her feelings for Everell must be hidden away with the headpiece for the good of her friendship.

You have to admire a girl for that. It is not easy to let go of a someone you are infatuated with because they are pursued by another. And it is not easy to let go of a prized article of clothing. (I to this day miss the pair of red canvas flats that my mom forced me to throw away once they got too battered.)

Fashion with Mrs. Grafton


Mrs. Grafton of Sedgwick's Hope Leslie seems by far the most fashion savvy of the women characters. In fact, it appears that her relationship with clothing and fashion borders upon obsession. When it comes to fashion, she is either condemning plain, puritan clothing, chattering away about certain clothing articles, or trying to convince her niece, to wear clothes that she picked out for her, as though in an attempt to make Hope as stylish as she. From looking at passages where Mrs. Grafton is talking about certain fashions, I have found an interesting connection between clothing and the human body, which I have interpreted as a representation of how fashion is physically a part of her life.

“My gown was a trifle too dark—but do not mention that to Lady Amy, for I make no doubt that she took due pains, and only wanted a right understanding of the real hue, called feuille morte, which, between you and I—sub rose, mind—my gown would not be called, by any person skilled in the colours of silk. . . . Now Everell, I do not wish to be an old woman before my time, therefore I will have another silk of a brighter cast. Brown it must be, but lively—lively. I will enclose a lock of Hope’s hair, which is precisely the hue I mean. You will observe that it has a golden tinge, that makes it appear in all lights as if there were sunshine on it, and yet it is a decided brown" (120-121).

Seeing how particular Mrs. Grafton is about her dress, I attempted to find a (somewhat) period appropriate dress that suited her color needs. I think the specimen I found met all the requirements, seeing that it is brown and as a golden tinge in the light:

Personally, I think I would have made an amazing fashion consultant for Mrs. Grafton.

In this instance, we can see how meticulous she is about colors. On one hand, it shows how obsessive the woman is about dressing in the right color, but also hints at her relationship with fashion. It is as though to Mrs. Grafton that fashion is a symbol of life, as we may see from her rejection of the gown whose color is based on a dead leaf, and the insistence of using Hope's lovely, "lively" hair as the basis for the color she desires. Also, the fact that she must have a gown of a different color because she is "does not wish to be an old woman before her time" suggests to me that fashion is a way for her to retain youth, and therefore must use the hair color of a young woman as inspiration of the color of her gown. With this idea, I cannot help but think of the Disney version of The Little Mermaid, as it seems similar to Ursula taking Ariel's youthful voice, which allows her to take the appearance of a younger woman.



Grafton also seems to find fashion as a sort of medicine, as seen in the lines, "Alice always went as plain as a pike staff, after you left England; and a great pity it was, I always thought; . . . we had such a world of beautiful new fashions, it would have cured Alice of her moping" (281). To Mrs. Grafton, to emerse oneself in the beauty of fashion not only would have improved Alice's style, but would also raised her from the depression she faced after losing her beloved. It seems what Grafton is proposing is an early form of "retail therapy." Again, I find this an example of how fashion is related to life, as in Mrs. Grafton's mind fashion is a cure for depression, and a method to improve the quality of one's life. As my mother would say, "Living in depression is no way to live."

When conversing with the fellow author of the blog, Julia, we imagined that if Mrs. Grafton had her own fashion blog, (because of all the characters in the novel, she probably would be the only one to keep a fashion blog) she would definitely use it to babble on about what she loves and hates about fashion, and perhaps post pictures of her fabulous outfits that she painstakingly planned out, from the colors to the matching accessories. Once in a while, I'm sure she would complain about how plain some people dress in comparison to her, and wonder why her niece refuses to dress as exquisitely as her.

Suffer from fashion

I'm thinking Quaker garb is the reason why I associate Early American Women's Literature with bonnets.

In "The Life of Elizabeth Ashbridge," a narrative within the collection Journeys in New Worlds, Ashbridge is faced with a series of hardships, which towards the end is related to her Quakerism. She is subject to much ridicule for her faith, which I initially found curious seeing that she does not openly flaunt her faith to the public. Though it is not blatantly stated in the text, it seems likely that it is her manner of dress is what prompts the judgments of the public. I find this evident in the line, "I see your wife is a Quaker," (162) when Ashbridge and her husband is approached by a man who knows a way to perhaps "fix her." In this sense, her faith and dress causes her to be a spectacle in the non-Quaker community. The reaction to Quakerism in this narrative, I find to be reminiscent of modern day ignorance, such as the religion of Islam and the Islamic dress code (for instance, the hijab for women) may be associated with terrorism and met with hatred.

The friends' kindness could not proceed from my appearing in the Garb of a Quaker, for I had not yet altered my dress: The Woman of the house, after we had Concluded to Stay, fixed her Eyes upon me & Said, "I believe thou hast met with a deal of Trouble," to which I made but Little Answer. My husband, Observing they were the sort of people he had so much Endeavored to shun, would give us no Opportunity for discourse that night (165).

I assume that in this text, because her husband openly ridicules the Quaker way of life, that he has forced her not to wear Quaker clothing upon their travels. This appears to be a form of oppression, as he is in a sense stripping Ashbridge of her identity by denying her to wear her garb. However, we find that she is able to be recognized and embraced by the Quaker woman even though Ashbridge herself is not dressed in Quaker attire. We see that her identity as a Quaker is still safely intact, even though it does not match her outward appearance.


He would not suffer me to have Clothes to be Decent in, having to go barefoot in his Service in the Snowey Weather & the Meanest drudgery, wherein I Suffered the Utmost Hardship that my Body was able to Bear (152).

Lack of clothing also seems to be a form of torture for Ashbridge, set forth by her husband, Sullivan. The idea of her having to walk miles in bare feet always evoked a striking, painful image, which I have drawn an interpretation of below. (Some of the red is supposed to be raw spots and not blood. I'm not that gory.)I find there must be an association between the influence of her husband and the pain she must feel walking long distances without her shoes. Her husband's presence is torture for her, just as these the removes that she is forced to go on are torturous to her body, due to the lack of appropriate clothing. I try to imagine what it must be like to walk barefoot in treacherous conditions and unpaved roads. Perhaps the modern equivalent is having your significant other force you to wear stiletto heels and drag you all across the city, but probably worse.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

woulda coulda shoulda

If I had a chance to do this project again, I would have totally written a Mean Girls style, text message revision of The Coquette. That is all.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop

She was in a room darkened by Venetian blinds, lying on her sofa from which she half rose to receive me. When I was seated she reclined again on the sofa and amused general Boyer, who sat at her feet, by letting her slipper fall continually which he respectfully put on as often as it fell. She is small fair, with blue eyes and flaxen hair. Her face is expressive of sweetness but without spirit. She has a voluptuous mouth, and is rendered interesting by an air of languor which spreads itself over her whole frame. She was dressed in a muslin morning gown, with a madrass handkercheif on her head.
Judging from this little snippet, those unfamiliar with Secret Histories, Leonora Sansay's thinly veiled fictional reconstruction of her first hand experience of the Haitian revolution, might think it another gay romp revolving around the follies of rich people. Although that might actually be true in some respects, interspersed between scenes full of frivolity and decadence are bone chilling anecdotes about women cutting their husband's slave mistress's heads' off and serving them on platters and gut wrenching accounts of brutal domestic violence. Still, as this scene clearly demonstrates, that even though their world is virtually collapsing around them, the aristocracy are making sure that they are going out in style. Truth to be told, this passage really reminds me of Britney Spear's new music video for  "Till the World Ends."
Indeed, going by Leonora's Sansay's descriptions of the numerous balls and droll soirees she attended amidst the bloodshed of the Haitian revolution, perhaps this video isn't so far off from the truth: maybe when the world really does come to an end  there will be a awesome party full of sexy people, with a vapid and scantily clad pop star thrusting her hips provocatively at the center of it all. I mean that is the post modern equivalent of the social gathering where the main point of interest is Napoleon's vapid sister provocatively slipping her shoe on and off, right? Furthermore, I think that the flatness of Britney Spear's auto-tuned voice corresponds quite nicely with Sansay's description of Madame Le Clerc's facial features as sweet but "without spirit." Arguably, both women express themselves in a manner that is blandly and perniciously appealing but lacks real soul...there is nothing beneath the surface but a dark void that will lead to your  DOOM.  Remember that when you are getting "jiggy" with the honeys on December 21st 2012  and it suddenly occurs to you that all the frivolity around you is a cheap and desperate facade because the end of the world is coming and no matter how "hyphy" you get, nothing is going to change that or make it not suck. In any event, I do hope you'll be able to find solace in the fact that you ended up at a Britney Spears type shindig rather than watching some rich lady toy with her shoe for the entire night like poor Leonora Sansay!
But, to return a more serious tone for a moment, I do think Leonora Sansay's writing is brilliant in it's ability to tear away the veil that  shrouds over and  pacifies people to systems of oppression. Just as the luxuries and lifestyle warranted by slavery blinds those in power to it's true horrors, by focusing in on the seemingly meaningless act of Madame Le Clerc taking her shoe on and off, Sansay distracts the reader's interest away from the violence that is taking place just outside the confines of her  safe house. In both instances, it is apparent that the line between the benign and the violent becomes blurred because overemphasis of the banal is the very means through which violence is able to continue unchecked. The connection between the two is deepened when one considers that the  seemingly benign (shoes,  the safe house etc) that are taken for granted through out the novel wouldn't be possible without a deeply rooted system of oppression to support it. In many ways Sansay is the flip side of the argument I made about Sedgewick and Magawisca; although an appreciation for fashion can possibly lead to identification with those who are supposedly different from you, it's can be employed to disguise the ugliness of reality. Certainly this point is very true of the modern day fashion industry and pop culture in general, that overlays tired stereotypes and oppression with a slick veneer. Just look at  the eating disorders and the plastic surgery that pop starlets subject themselves to. Just like the shoe they are the gloss that distracts us away from oppression on one hand, and the symptom and cause of it on the other.
 And, I mean, who cares that Britney Spears can't actually sing if autotune can fix everything? Besides that, there's the whole issue of Britney's father conservatorship and the rumors that she forced to remain in show business because of all the cash that is to made of it. Yep, a patriarchal authority figure exerting control over his daughter's life in order to make more money...sounds like a allegory for the colonial annexation of Haiti.  But a she's not "fat" and bald anymore so everything must be okay, right? When she starts letting herself go again i.e. letting herself be a normal person, we'll know that she is really in trouble and that the world as we know it is finally coming to an end. Until then we can watch her prance around in her short shorts some kind of marionette and listen  to her sing in her dead voice about how she's "never felt like this before."
I also think this behind the scenes video of a Terry Richardson fashion photo shoot with Lady Gaga is a particularly prescient example of the idea that Sansay was trying to convey with Madame Le Clerc's shoe back in 1808. When I watch Richardson and the half naked Gaga doing jumping jacks together, it really drives home the point that fashion industry isn't as fierce and inspired as Tyra Banks and her Top Model franchise would have you believe, but  insipid, idiotic and a bit pathetic. Just like the soldier repeatedly picking up the shoe over and over again.  Yeah, we're all part of the blank generation... hit me over the head with a hammer already. This feeling of disgust is heightened in light of the fact that Richardson is in actuality, a huge perv who has  been accused of sexually assaulting models on photo shoots...but that's okay because his photography is really popular and it's part of his act or whatever. Yeah, right. Clearly, these aren't just matters of  shoes falling off and spastic jumping jacks, people have gotten hurt and will continue get to hurt we let this kind of stupidity continue. We must recognize the gravity of the situation: the shoe will drop, the jumper will jack...or whatever. Or we can just sit back and settle into complacency. Always a good option
On lighter note, here are some pictures of an outfit inspired by the Madame Le Clerc scene. In truth, I really shouldn't be bashing Richardson and Gaga because this photo shoot went down in  similar fashion to theirs- Richard Hell was blaring in the background and photographer Phoebe did her best to make feel completely debased and exploited through out. Here are the fruits of our labor:




Androgynous Zones

He looked about fifteen. He had the full melting dark eye, and the rich complexion of the southern climes; masses of jetty curls parted on his forehead, shaded his temples and neck, and "smooth as Hebe's was his unrazored lip." It was obvious that it was his dress which called forth the sailor's sarcasm. The breast and sleeves of his jerkin were embroidered, a deep-pointed rich lace ruff embellished his neck, if neck round and smooth as alabaster could be embellished, and his head was covered with a little fantastic Spanish hat, decorated with feathers
Rereading Catherine Marine Sedgewick's  initial description of Rosa, the fallen woman who disguises herself like a young boy, I was struck by how incredibly sensuous it was. The character, who is deceived into coming to the New World by  an unscrupulous lover could easily be a lothario herself, with her "dark melting eye" and "masses of jetty curls." I mean, if I was a 15 year old girl in the 1830s I'm sure I would be swooning away with desire on my fainting couch right now. My servants would have to revive me with fans and smelling salts! Although a very thinly drawn character, Rosa intrigue lies in the fact that although she is betraying those around her and the reader with her prepubescent boy act, she has been betrayed herself. And, if you fall for her just a little bit (which I believe is clearly Sedgewick's intention here), you are forced to commiserate with her for falling for such an obvious fraud herself. Furthermore, while your desire for her is frustrated both because of social restrictions and her emotional unavailability, her love for  Sir Phillip is thwarted for the very same reasons. I guess in an ideal world, we would both reject the asshole men who don't appreciate us enough and get together with each other. Alas! Of course, presupposing that Rosa is a dude also brings up the whole issue of teenage girls being attracted to non threatening gay men. This part of Rosa's  appeal resonated deeply with me because as a young girl growing up in San Francisco, I was often attracted to the  dare I say, more delicate male sensibilities. I remember when I was fifteen my friend Zoe and I were particularly enamored by a rather fragile looking video store clerk who had a British accent.  All our hopes and dreams were shattered when we caught him making out with another guy that worked at the video store (who was also kinda cute but didn't have a British accent.) Unable to live out our desires in any tangible way, we would throw sleepover parties that involved Queer as Folk (rented at Jamie's video store, of course) marathons and eating our weight in popcorn.
Attractive Gay Men=a teenage girl's fantasy and personal tragedy
As the popularity of Justin Bieber type pop stars demonstrates this type of attraction has broad appeal, but I still think this kind of thing is especially problematic for girls in San Francisco and that it has warped me forever.
 I'm not trying to imply that Bieber is gay but that his magnetic pull for young girls operates a level similar to Rosa's. I mean, just look at his melting eye and his unrazored lip. Totally smooth as Hebes, might I add! 
Just what is it about androgyny that makes it so captivating? As I mentioned above gay men like Jamie Movies are non threatening because  acting upon your desires in an impossibility. Similarly, pursuing the affections of Justin Bieber and Rosa is a lost cause because they are in no way interested in you or even aware of your existence. In a way, this kind of attraction is purer for young straight girls than heteronormative attachments because you won't actually lose your innocence. Rather, they will forever be confined in the realm of  fantasies or fiction. Indeed,  it is doubtful that a openly gay man will ever seduce a young girl into coming to foreign land and then abandon her there. (I'm not saying it couldn't happen but I think it's not likely) Also, it's probably for the better that the late 20ish and still working in a video store Jamie Movies didn't return the attentions of innocent 15 year old girls...that would've pretty been pretty gross.
Story, Corey, Allegory...Lisa Simpson knows exactly what I'm talking about!
 However, it the unconsummated desire is also exactly what makes the whole experience so unsettling and as I mentioned earlier, warping. Indeed, it is precisely when you realize that your fantasy will always and forever be just be a fantasy and only a fantasy that you lose your innocence. I guess it's better to learn that life lesson the easy way aka through watching queer as folk and reading sentimentalist fiction than actually getting your heart broken and your life totally screwed over like Rosa. And, certainly as Rosa's demise signifies, the pursuit of such unobtainable desires is ultimately a dead end in life. At the same time, even if there was much less at stake when I crushed out over Jamie Movies, or when young girls pine over Justin Bieber, it still hurts when your dreams are tauntingly dangled in front of you, but  always out of reach.
It's also evident that harboring such romantic inclinations involves an element of self delusion...I mean, it was pretty  obvious in retrospect that Jamie Movies was gay. I was not seeing the world for what it was, but interpreting it in terms of my interests. Being older and more world weary, I saw through Rosa's act right away. I guess I'm a better "reader" of both real life and fiction now but I can't say that this didn't happen without me becoming a tad bit jaded in the process. Just as I readily identified Rosa as a girl because I'm familiar with her Shakespearean predecessors,  these days I usually assume a large of portion of the male population is gay; in both cases the thrill of attraction and allure of new possibilities is forever lost. In effect, I've seen it all before, and know what's coming and no longer care. In conclusion, here are some pictures of a Rosa inspired outfit. I regret not being able to make as Foppish as I initially intended. Another one of life's bitter realities, I suppose.





Thanks to Phoebe Morgan for being an awesome model and thanks to my godparents for letting me use their stores of costume clothing and their beautiful house as the location for these pictures