Michael and China Chow with an Adel Rootstein mannequin of Tina Chow in a 1973 printed chiffon evening gown with satin sash by Zandra Rhodes, 1975.
A Tumblr, like many others, to celebrate subjects of beauty and cultural significance. All content sourced and scanned by myself from books and print media.
For my writing, on menswear and matters of equal importance: La Vida Magazine.
For my writing, on menswear and matters of equal importance: La Vida Magazine.
![Tina Chow in a 1983 black silk crêpe evening gown, with Lesage trompe l’oeil jewellery embroidery, by Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel.
‘It is impossible,’ [Coco] Chanel said, ‘to wear lots of real jewels unless there are women who wear lots of fake ones.’ Her penchant for mixing the authentic and the false, in particular her layering of real and fake jewellery, was recreated with a sense of her original panache in the first Lagerfeld collection for Chanel in 1983. Marvelous embroidered decorations and accessories for the couture have been created by the House of Lesage from the 1920s to the present, thus from the era of Coco Chanel to the era of Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel. Lots of faux jewellery, mingled with the real—as worn by Tina Chow—completes the fashion concept that both Chanel and Lagerfeld embraced. Both appreciate the irony of fashion when the real and the artificial, the actual and imagined, and the rich and poor are combined.
—Richard Martin and Harold Koda, 1992
Photo by the House of Chanel.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/e52b7c7678629e9a0a228adf32c36974/tumblr_mld7yhxzKL1r1p7nfo1_1280.jpg)
Tina Chow in a 1983 black silk crêpe evening gown, with Lesage trompe l’oeil jewellery embroidery, by Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel.
‘It is impossible,’ [Coco] Chanel said, ‘to wear lots of real jewels unless there are women who wear lots of fake ones.’ Her penchant for mixing the authentic and the false, in particular her layering of real and fake jewellery, was recreated with a sense of her original panache in the first Lagerfeld collection for Chanel in 1983. Marvelous embroidered decorations and accessories for the couture have been created by the House of Lesage from the 1920s to the present, thus from the era of Coco Chanel to the era of Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel. Lots of faux jewellery, mingled with the real—as worn by Tina Chow—completes the fashion concept that both Chanel and Lagerfeld embraced. Both appreciate the irony of fashion when the real and the artificial, the actual and imagined, and the rich and poor are combined.
—Richard Martin and Harold Koda, 1992
Photo by the House of Chanel.
![Tina Chow in a 1984 black silk cloque evening gown by Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel.
During the 1930s, Coco Chanel went through a romantic period, influenced by the lush, languorous Second Empire grandeur depicted in court portraits by Franz Xaver Winterhalter. The same historical flavour of decorous grace pervades this Karl Lagerfeld–designed ensemble for the House of Chanel. What might seem to be an anomaly in Lagerfeld’s usual historical preferences is sanctioned by the clear precedent of Chanel’s references to the same epoch, the wistful search for lost elegance. If Lagerfeld laminates the strata of costume history in his work, he uses literal layers of fabric as a formal device as well. The front panel of the [black] silk taffeta underskirt offers a visual continuation of the outerskirt’s silk and creates the illusion of matching at the front. Lagerfeld’s modified silhouette of a nineteenth-century crinoline, with surface details and forms giving a sense of the Romantic era, is applied to a garment that can be identified with the history of Chanel.
—Richard Martin and Harold Koda, 1992
Photo by David Seidner.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/5f9da4ab8c22185629967e948079c742/tumblr_mld72p0duu1r1p7nfo1_1280.jpg)
Tina Chow in a 1984 black silk cloque evening gown by Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel.
During the 1930s, Coco Chanel went through a romantic period, influenced by the lush, languorous Second Empire grandeur depicted in court portraits by Franz Xaver Winterhalter. The same historical flavour of decorous grace pervades this Karl Lagerfeld–designed ensemble for the House of Chanel. What might seem to be an anomaly in Lagerfeld’s usual historical preferences is sanctioned by the clear precedent of Chanel’s references to the same epoch, the wistful search for lost elegance. If Lagerfeld laminates the strata of costume history in his work, he uses literal layers of fabric as a formal device as well. The front panel of the [black] silk taffeta underskirt offers a visual continuation of the outerskirt’s silk and creates the illusion of matching at the front. Lagerfeld’s modified silhouette of a nineteenth-century crinoline, with surface details and forms giving a sense of the Romantic era, is applied to a garment that can be identified with the history of Chanel.
—Richard Martin and Harold Koda, 1992
Photo by David Seidner.
![Tina Chow in a 1953 ivory silk satin evening coat with gilt embroidery and gold leather appliqués by Balenciaga.
[Cristóbal] Balenciaga was an indefatigable collector-connoisseur, preserving textile and costume examples from the Enlightenment through the nineteenth century. The past was a subtle presence, but a continuing inspiration, in his work throughout his career. Significantly, Balenciaga did not copy historical examples directly, but instead looked to several periods, bringing together seemingly disparate elements to create a new aesthetic. A gilt-embroidered and leather-appliquéd surface treatment, so recollective eighteenth-century practices, is applied to a jacket with dropped shoulders, narrowing cuffs and widening elbows that interprets mid- and late-nineteenth-century constructions. The added element of the collarless round neck indicates Balenciaga’s own need to simplify the whole. Historicist elements of surface and aspects of construction do no impinge on the designer’s personal style vocabulary: they are assimilated into the modern mode of simple forms that Balenciaga consistently advocated.
—Richard Martin and Harold Koda, 1992
Photo by David Seidner.](http://24.media.tumblr.com/459519a16ffb42ac8066493ac8b94535/tumblr_mld66sFumf1r1p7nfo1_1280.jpg)
Tina Chow in a 1953 ivory silk satin evening coat with gilt embroidery and gold leather appliqués by Balenciaga.
[Cristóbal] Balenciaga was an indefatigable collector-connoisseur, preserving textile and costume examples from the Enlightenment through the nineteenth century. The past was a subtle presence, but a continuing inspiration, in his work throughout his career. Significantly, Balenciaga did not copy historical examples directly, but instead looked to several periods, bringing together seemingly disparate elements to create a new aesthetic. A gilt-embroidered and leather-appliquéd surface treatment, so recollective eighteenth-century practices, is applied to a jacket with dropped shoulders, narrowing cuffs and widening elbows that interprets mid- and late-nineteenth-century constructions. The added element of the collarless round neck indicates Balenciaga’s own need to simplify the whole. Historicist elements of surface and aspects of construction do no impinge on the designer’s personal style vocabulary: they are assimilated into the modern mode of simple forms that Balenciaga consistently advocated.
—Richard Martin and Harold Koda, 1992
Photo by David Seidner.
![Tina Chow in a 1951 black silk faille evening coat by Balenciaga.
[Hubert de] Givenchy has said that [Cristóbal] Balenciaga could spend an entire evening talking about the shoulder of a garment, so absorbed was he in the poise of a coat. A black silk faille coat, with a band collar that becomes a centre front tie, represents the reductive genius of Balenciaga, presenting itself as the simplest garment, but with the elegant silhouette that the designer had introduced in 1949 and continued to refine for years. The coat seems to fall effortlessly in the back, but the designer began its drape at the shoulders to achieve its effect of perfect nonchalance. Draping on the model permitted Balenciaga to carefully articulate the flutes of the coat. His raglan kimono sleeve with underarm gusset became his standard coat construction during the fifties and sixties. An angled side seam allowed the grain of the garment to augment the folds and reinforce way in which it draped. Balenciaga’s archivist and critical biographer, Marie-Andrée Jouve, has convingingly compared Balenciaga’s drapery to that seen in Spanish painting, especially in works by Zurbarán. By composing three-dimensionally, Balenciaga commanded the way in which drapery moved and fell into position as observantly as a painter would.
—Richard Martin and Harold Koda, 1992
Photos by David Seidner.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/a4032787e55c1804e199a7a29617ec52/tumblr_mld4sqstfQ1r1p7nfo1_1280.jpg)
Tina Chow in a 1951 black silk faille evening coat by Balenciaga.
[Hubert de] Givenchy has said that [Cristóbal] Balenciaga could spend an entire evening talking about the shoulder of a garment, so absorbed was he in the poise of a coat. A black silk faille coat, with a band collar that becomes a centre front tie, represents the reductive genius of Balenciaga, presenting itself as the simplest garment, but with the elegant silhouette that the designer had introduced in 1949 and continued to refine for years. The coat seems to fall effortlessly in the back, but the designer began its drape at the shoulders to achieve its effect of perfect nonchalance. Draping on the model permitted Balenciaga to carefully articulate the flutes of the coat. His raglan kimono sleeve with underarm gusset became his standard coat construction during the fifties and sixties. An angled side seam allowed the grain of the garment to augment the folds and reinforce way in which it draped. Balenciaga’s archivist and critical biographer, Marie-Andrée Jouve, has convingingly compared Balenciaga’s drapery to that seen in Spanish painting, especially in works by Zurbarán. By composing three-dimensionally, Balenciaga commanded the way in which drapery moved and fell into position as observantly as a painter would.
—Richard Martin and Harold Koda, 1992
Photos by David Seidner.
Tina Chow wearing jewellery of her own design, 1988.
Photo by David Seidner.
Tina Chow in a 1930–1935 rhinestone mesh evening bodice by Alix.
Photos by David Seidner.
Tina Chow in a “Hollow Loom” dress by Issey Miyake, 1983. Bracelets by Jean Dunand and Cartier.
Photo by Marcus Leatherdale.
Tina Chow in a Chanel evening suit, with Michael Chow, 1984.
Photo by Helmut Newton.
Tina Chow in a black rayon jersey evening gown by Saint Laurent Rive Gauche, 1987.
Photo by Michael Roberts.
Tina Chow in a c. 1948 blue silk satin evening coat by Christian Dior.
Arguably, the New Look was not entirely, but was instead founded on Dior’s discriminating examination of historical dress: … An extraordinary blue satin coat of 1948 took its inspiration from gowns seen in Watteau paintings from the second third of the eighteenth century and from ancient Japanese Kabuki robes. Of elementary construction, but arresting impact, the coat is made from an unbroken length of satin seamed together with slashes under the sleeve line that pull the form together to create the impression of sleeves. This coat has a ceremonial grandeur that belies its resourceful simplicity. Cecil Beaton once called Dior ‘the Watteau of dressmaking.’ In this satin coat, that epithet is no mere metaphor.
—Richard Martin and Harold Koda, 1992
Photo by Alice Springs.
Tina Chow in a c. 1938 evening ensemble by Elsa Schiaparelli.
Schiaparelli’s great inventions came from the intellect, not the atelier. Because she preferred ideas over manufacturing processes, the designer engaged expert help to produce fine, though rarely exceptional, feats of tailoring. Schiaparelli’s presence was felt in the flair of the concepts and devices that she and her artist-collaborators applied to the clothing, which was then assembled by her atelier. In this evening ensemble, the butterfly clasp is Schiaparelli’s symbol of metamorphosis, related to the imagery of Dalí and consciousness of Surrealist art and ideas. However, the symbol has an ambiguity: the butterfly might be a flower. Schiaparelli delighted in the ambivalence and enigma that her work created: that an element of metamorphosis (a garment’s closure device) offered a varied visual interpretation—and meaning—added to the garment’s appeal. Craft followed concept in importance, so the garments often required improvisational and spontaneous solutions: in this example, the shaping of the sleeve at the elbow seems almost like an afterthought, and is achieved by the technique of gathering at the inner sleeve. Costume historian Diana de Marly disparages this designer: ‘Elsa Schiaparelli was not a sophisticated designer in the sense that her clothes were a continuous evolution, nor did she have a great feeling for cloth; she was much more the witty entertainer, sparkling with startling novelties.’ But de Marly’s deprecation is myopic: one does not fault Duchamp for choosing not to paint like Cézanne. Schiaparelli’s great talent was not in her fingertips, but in her facility with ideas and in her willingness to take aesthetic risks.
—Richard Martin and Harold Koda, 1991
Photo by Alice Springs.
Charlotte Rampling in a combination model from the Yves Saint Laurent Rive Gauche collection of 1970–71: a white silk shirt paired with a black wool-crêpe, ankle-length kilt.
Photo by Jeanloup Sieff.
Charlotte Rampling in an afternoon ensemble from the Yves Saint Laurent Rive Gauche collection of 1970–71: a long black kilt of wool-étamine with a black velvet vest over a printed silk-crêpe blouse.
Photo by Jeanloup Sieff.
