When Sofia Coppola’s new bubble-gum biopic, “Marie Antoinette,” debuted at the Cannes Film Festival last summer, the French booed. Not everyone in the audience – but enough to make headlines.
The film, which stars Kirsten Dunst, is a clever mix of period (sumptuous costumes) and pop (’80s music). But, um, the plot? Aside from a series of party scenes, nothing happens, which seems odd, given that our heroine lived during one of the world’s bloodiest revolutions and wound up decapitated.
Still, whether you like the film or not, one thing’s undeniable: We are in the midst of a Marie Antoinette moment.
Besides the new film, there’s a PBS documentary that aired in September, four new books and, of course, the clothes. Last season, it was John Galliano’s hand-painted crinoline and organdy dress for Dior couture, Gaultier and Valentino with layers of organza, and Givenchy’s feathers (rooster and ostrich). This season, you’ll find white jabots (from Chanel) and silk jacquard coats (Dries Van Noten). Next spring, more petticoats and bows (from Coppola’s pal Marc Jacobs, at Louis Vuitton).
Yanks, too, are feeling Francophilic. Peter Som’s regal capelet, Ralph Lauren and Badgley Mischka’s embroidered military jackets, delicate lace or lavishly ruffled blouses at Elie Tahari and Anne Fontaine, even the velvet, fleur-de-
lis-trimmed skirts at Nine West or white chemise peasant tops and cameos at Avenue will have you humming “La Marseillaise” – though, ahem, that’s a revolutionary song. No matter – Marie Antoinette still fascinates.
“Her story underscores the difficulties of being a woman in politics,” notes Caroline Weber, an associate professor of French at Barnard College and author of a new biography, “Queen of Fashion” (Henry Holt, $27.50).
Marie Antoinette was, in many respects, “the last queen” – not literally, but in a knock-your-ermine-
socks-off way – which is why her image is so strong, even today, says Valerie Steele, chief curator of the Museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology. Like Jackie Kennedy Onassis and Princess Di, Marie Antoinette was a woman thrust onto the world stage by virtue of marriage, Steele notes. But, unlike those women, she never grasped the importance of publicity, seeking refuge in big hair and bigger dresses.
“She was desperately in love with what was new, without any regard for its implications,” says Steele. It’s a lesson worth learning, given that record numbers of Americans are in such debt they are being guillotined by their own credit cards.
Not that poor Marie didn’t have reason to lose herself in a few shopping sprees. A daughter of Austrian Empress Maria-Theresa, she was shipped off, at age 14, to be married to the future King Louis XVI. At the border, French officials stripped her, packed up her clothes – even her pooch, Mops – and redressed her in the French style.
There was no Prince Charming at Versailles, just a jowly, exceedingly shy chap so inept in the bedroom that it took seven years to consummate the marriage. Marie had a lot of time on her hands.
But with no heir in sight, Steele explains, Marie Antoinette’s position (and the Franco-Austrian alliance) lay in doubt – something Mama forever nagged about.
“She was the mother from hell,” says biographer Antonia Fraser, in the PBS documentary.
Marie Antoinette sought refuge in wardrobe, changing her look, flouting tradition. She eventually bore four children, though her real talent was trendsetting, expanding the choices women would make for centuries to come.
French queen set trends in motion
As a fashion trendsetter, Marie Antoinette was used to sticking her neck out.
(Sorry … couldn’t resist.)
She helped establish:
Luxury brands. The queen made Rose Bertin, a Parisian “stylist” who reworked dress trimmings, a household name, notes historian Caroline Weber.
Knockoffs. The loose white chemises she took to wearing at the Petit Trianon, her rustic getaway, were made of simple fabrics – gauze, muslin and linen – which were easier to copy than aristocratic velvet, satin and brocade. Like celebrities who wear “the must-
have Dior bag that’s on Canal Street a month later, Marie Antoinette helped break down boundaries between fashion for the upper class and the masses,” says Weber.
Hollywood chic. She mimicked the flirty look of actresses and courtesans, upping their influence over stodgy stylemeisters of the court, notes FIT’s Valerie Steele.
Man-tailored style. More than a century before Coco Chanel donned pants, Marie Antoinette shocked society by riding horses astride (not sidesaddle), wearing men’s trousers, riding coats with large buttons and lapels and brimmed hats instead of bonnets, Weber says.
Short hemlines. Sick of the hoop skirts, trains and unwieldy attire of the French court, the queen donned the robe a la polonaise, with its scandalously short hem that revealed shoes and – heavens! – ankles.
Big hair. The “pouf” was a beehive and then some – with real hair and extensions teased 3 feet high and bedecked with feathers, ribbons, even birds’ nests or model ships depicting naval battles. A lucrative feather trade sprang up, notes Antonia Fraser in “Marie Antoinette,” but the queen’s mother was unimpressed. “A young and pretty Queen,” she wrote, “has no need of these follies.”
Mothers.
– Joseph V. Amodio
