So here it is. The most ridiculous frock of all time, in my humble opinion.

No one, I repeat no one, dressed more pompously, ludicrously and uncomfortably than the court ladies of ageing Elisabeth I. Lizzy liked it big. And rich. Having lost her physical charms she  imposed a fashion that made all women look like heaps speckled with confetti and swathed in gauze. It was like an ongoing contest of “who can fit more jewels onto a dress”. Or “who can buy more of the ultra-expensive transparent fabric and display it all at once”. Such clothing was only available to the richest poor sods in the kingdom. Poor because they had to move around in this… well… priceless heap. At least 60% of other people in England walked barefoot. Which was probably healthier after all. I mean look at this woman! Apart from the face and hands she’s got no natural shape left at all. Her torso is rammed into a cone, her waist is squeezed and pushed down (the lower tip of that bodice reaches almost to her knees!), arms – lifted and padded to the extreme. She’s got at least 30-40 cm farthingale buffer sticking out in all directions . The only relief is that the ruff is of an open type, so she can see where she’s going. Not that she’s going anywhere far dressed like this. She is supposed to stay put and show off – a living showcase of her family’s wealth and political influence. Well done,  Lizzy.

Meanwhile in Flanders, Antwerp I think. Yes, they wore THAT. Quite a sight, eh? Just take a long, careful look at it before we proceed, and take in the gloriousness and the oddness. Done? I have a soft spot for farthingales and bum rolls. How it must have been moving around with a big sandbag (ok, I know it was not sand, it was wool) tied around your waist? And tons and tons of garments covering it? Two pros: it could serve as a bumper if you, let’s say, lost your balance on the stairs (because you couldn’t see where your  feet were in that thing). And you could stand a drink on it when at a party. Only this girl was not much of a party goer. She was supposed to be prim and respectable, proud (of her social status) and humble (to God, husband, priest, you name it), quiet and demure (and wear something that ostentatious! I smell paradox). So she gets this austere black dress, that would be quite good looking on its own, and a ridiculous elongated bodice. But that is not enough, no no no – now come all the status symbols: the enormous ruff, the lace headgear,  matching cuffs and kerchief, the chain girdle (bling!), two identical bracelets and rings. Very modest indeed. She’s wearing more cash than an entire village would need to feed itself for a decade. And she looks beautifully idiotic too.

 

      Spanish Court strike two! This time it is not a tent, it is a suit of armour. The skirt is so heavy and stiff that it needs a special indent to bend (see that horizontal crease?). The torso is pushed into a narrow cone of a bodice, quite unanatomical and very rigid. No tits, no cleavage, no rounded shoulders, no bum… no natural shape at all! And a few heavy chains wrapped around it just in case the poor girl gets too comfortable (NOT). This bodice is supposed to imitate men’s clothing at the time – hence the large basque etc. But it reminds me of war armour or insect shell more. And to top it all off – the enormous ruff. Not one but three! As if she wasn’t content with just the monstrosity around her neck! She looks like someone sawed off her head, replaced it with a ruff and then put the thing back, good 20 cm higher than it was before. The head looks, well… served, like a dish on a big plate. Keeping your neck in that position all day must have been a nightmare! But, as ruffs were at the height of their fame back then (1620s) you get two extra ones on the wrists. This is an armour also in the mathaphorical sense. It was meant to ooze (I love this word) and repel. Ooze grandeur, status (the highest, of course), wealth (not power obviously – these women rarely got such a treat). Repel any kind of… well… invitation? It read “I am grand and unattainable and so vastly uninterested – admire and get lost”.

 

        Well it's 1650's and as far as tents go, this is the finest, though often overlooked example. They certainly knew how to disable a female in in the XVII c. court of Spain! If Maria Louisa's Grande Habit was a nice modern dome tent, it’s spanish predesseor would be a yurt. Fancy spending a hot, spanish july day in it? The only comfortable thing about this dreadfully beautiful thing was, that you could rest your elbows on the skirt (useful when you’re sipping a long dring I suppose). Apart from that it’s a disaster. Heavy, big and a pain to wear. Not very colorful either. Spanish court liked it religious, rigid and sombre. Black, white, dark brown, a bit of red thrown in and that’s all folks. Other colours were just way too jolly. But what they lost tint-wise (is there such a word??), they made up for in volume. Look at the painting - there is the Dress and somewhere in it, barely sticking out, is the girl! Together they are so goddamn huge they hardly fit in the picture. If they decided to turn around the dog  would surely get squashed to pulp. Or catapulted out of the room at least! Do not mess with that gal. She is wearing a yurt and has a tiny gun tied to it on a blood red ribbon as an accessory!

 

          Behold - number four of my countdown, the “Always Get in There Sideways Dress”. It really was like wearing a tent. Entering a room required a sequence of maneuvers (yes, enter sideways), so did getting around furniture. No sitting for this lady (who is btw Maria Louisa di Parma – she will lose her good looks but gain a sheepish husband and the kingdom of Spain). Graceful reclining is all she gets. Surprisingly the tent itself is not much of a bother. It was huge but light; filled not with endless petticoats (ahhh the nightmare of sweaty thighs!) but with a pannier and well… air. Yes, it made a woman 3-4 times wider than her partner and it did project major oddness, but it was the most comfortable part of the Grande Habit (court dress). It had nothing on the bodice and the shoes. The former was a whalebone nightmare, flattening the chest and pulling the shoulders together. Tightly. Bending was, as usual, a major no-no. Shoes looked divine but made you an invalid. They were a less hardcore version of the Chinese lotus shoe (minus the toe braking) – heels were high and frivolously curved and the entire weight of the fashionvictim’e body rested on the toes. And these were squeezed into a itsy bithsy teenee weenee exquisetly embroidered iron maiden of a shoe. So Maria Louisa would very much like to sit on that throne behind her and let her feet rest. But there is no way she will fit, poor darling.