Oppan Grantham Style!

voltee ♦ December 2, 2012 ♦ 6 Comments

Item:  Beaded Corset Color/Fabric: Black, silk Where Purchased: Estate sale Years Owned: 0.5

I have always been fascinated with vintage clothing. In the 90’s it was the 70’s. I was the only girl in my junior high to eagerly embrace bell-bottoms and platform shoes. Through the years, I have been obsessed over one decade or another, most recently being the Roaring 20’s. There’s just something about a flapper that is, to me, the ultimate example of effortless chic.
And so, imagine my surprise when, earlier this summer, I unearthed a scrap of beaded fabric at an estate sale.
I would be lying if I said I hadn’t previously purchased seven new pairs of shoes from this sale. But it wasn’t my favorite estate sale style- nothing had prices. I hate having to ask the price of something at a yard sale. I feel like the price will be determined solely on the seller’s opinion of me. It’s not a good feeling.
This particular seller had quoted me a price of $30 for a pretty worn Ann Taylor silk blouse. How much might she ask for what was obviously once part of a flapper’s dress- a very piece of fashion history? Because I was sure that’s what I had found. It was rumpled and tangled and very confusing, but I thought I could use the beads to make jewelry.
The woman looked at the pile of mystery in my hands.
“That? I have no idea what that is. We found it in the basement. It smells bad. How about $3?”
I said yes. A thrill trembled through my limbs. I absolutely could not wait to get home and investigate my treasure.
I carefully unfolded and untangled. I unhooked, unraveled and straightened, gingerly, with love.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered an intact corset blouse, complete with boning, dozens and dozens of heavy eye hooks, and tea length sleeves.
Even more surprising, it seemed earlier than 1920.
Gothic, even, and not a small amount of creepy. Previously, I hadn’t given that much thought to Victorian era clothing. Still I asked Nate to help me put it on.
There are about 50 eye hooks, still securely and solidly attached after a hundred years. Even still, Nate made only a feeble attempt, before he declared it too fragile.
“And it smells bad,” he finished.
Even a few moments of this being on my person was quite enough for me to fall in love. The weightiness of it, the feel of the dangling strands of beads, the rustle it made when I moved, the sheer effort it took to be donned.
It was, indeed, a piece of fashion history. A different, more elegant, more patient time.
“This was, in all probability, worn on the Titanic,” I declared (You can read more about my Titanic thoughts here).
And then I was immediately confused as to what should be done with my treasure. I carefully put it away, and did not think of it for many months.
Until I began to watch Downton Abbey.
What a beautiful show! I am obsessed, and there aren’t even vampires in it! I will not count the ways in which I love this show; if you’ve seen it, you must know them all already. and if you haven’t seen it, watch it right now.
Except to mention the fashion. Glorious, glorious! But not just the women’s fashion. The men’s is so glamorous, it hurts me. In these days, when many men are content to let their underpants puff right out of their pants, can you imagine if men took such time and care with their dress? Sigh.
But on my first viewing of Downton, I thought of my little beaded corset, and knew I had picked the right era. Suddenly, it doesn’t seem creepy or gloomy at all. I can easily picture Lady Mary wearing this, and looking something like this:
Right??
I am certain that this piece is about one hundred years old. That being said, what should I do with it?
It is certainly too fragile and fragrant to wear, and it absolutely wouldn’t hold up on stage. Here are a few of the defects:

The right sleeve is nearly perfect, though, and feels and looks so luxurious:

I’ve thought about dismantling it, and trying to reattach onto a plain dress or blouse. I don’t think I could copy it completely. I might be able to give an impression of the original character.
Or, I dismantle it entirely and use the beads and lace to make many other things, like jewelry. The beads are heavy, glass, multifaceted, and stunning.

Or is it offensive to take apart something that has survived for a century mostly complete? I can’t help but think of The Giving Tree.
I would love to know your thoughts on this. I am torn. Honestly, even if you never have or never will vote on another piece of mine, please do this one!

And please, if you feel moved and are able to make a Grantham Style video, and I hope you are, please list me in the credits!