Making an Entrance
Femme fatales really know how to make an entrance. think of joan
Crawford in “Mildred Pierce” (1945) walking down the pier at night, dressed in a fur coat and a deliciously ironic “halo hat” to match. Or Jane Greer in “Out of the Past” (1947), silhouetted by the sunlight in a dress with a skirt straight enough to show off her swagger. And how about Barbara Stanwyck’s stairway entrance in “Double Indemnity” (1944), when the camera lingers teasingly on her gold anklet and those fabulous pumps with the playful pompoms on the toes?
These women use their allure to subjugate men, often leading them to ruin. Middle-class housewives, waitresses, receptionists, singers, actresses, heiresses, even interns, they have one thing in common: deriving power from their sexuality. Their props include sinuous gowns, tight skirts, tantalizing jewels, lacy lingerie and hypnotic, kohl-lined eyes. Clothing is integral to this noir archetype.
This fall, the femme fatale has returned to the fashion pages, thanks to the offerings of several top designers. Nipped at the waist pencil skirts, bias-cut silk gowns that pour to the floor like molasses, sumptuous fur stoles and pumps with heels as sharp as ice picks may not seem warm and fuzzy, but they are fashion’s version of comfort food-visual cues for a nostalgic glamour that’s as easily communicated as it is understood.
The myth of the femme fatale is sometimes described as man’s attempt to blame women for evil in the world-women are sirens, and therefore men should be absolved of all responsibility for their actions. But this season’s aggressive screen-siren chic shouldn’t be read as revenge. Designers have recast the role of the femme fatale in a flattering light. More than just a temptress, she is now respectable-a strong woman who knows what she wants.
“There’s something powerful in being a femme fatale,” says Zac Posen, a young up-and-coming New York designer. His fall collection of sexy satin and crepe dresses with contrasting insets, fitted bodices, fluttery hems and ev after Artemis, the Greek goddess of the hunt, and inspired by the costumes of powerhouse actresses such as Crawford, Marlene Dietrich, Norma Shearer and Rita Hayworth. On screen, these women surpassed their human attributes to become almost mythological creatures-and mythological creatures require clothing that transforms and transports. Posen’s sophisticated, menswear-styled “she-man” jumpsuit, with a slit that’s thigh-high on one leg, Prada’s high-waisted boucle pencil skirt and 1940s-inspired duchesse satin puff-sleeve top, and Gucci’s slinky gothic gowns with fishtail hems have the power to take the women who wear them to another time.
At Miu Miu, lavender double-knit short shorts, bubble-gum pink halter-top playsuits and sequined pumps worthy of a cheesecake shot evoke Lana Turner in the 1946 film “The Postman Always Rings Twice.” Anyone who’s partial to Prada can work her curves by cinching a wide crocodile belt over a cardigan sweater and a flared black-sequined skirt, or slipping into a pleated silk dress with thin leather laces that accentuate the waist and hips. Louis Vuitton’s Marc Jacobs glams up straight herringbone skirts with crinkly lame tops, silk camisoles or white rabbit-fur bomber jackets. And Alexander McQueen’s skinny brown tweed skirts seem almost villainous when paired with brown leather braces bound around the waist and bust and menacing boots laced high on the thigh. “I wanted the girls to look empowered in both a sexual and intellectual way,” he says.
This fall’s femme fatale looks acknowledge a longing for escape. “The way designers are reacting to the world is to create objects of desire that allow people to transform themselves in a way that obliterates the malaise,” says Harold Koda, curator of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute in New York.
Tom Ford’s fall collection for Gucci includes elaborately worked stilettos with mother of pearl inlay heels, hefty crocodile doctor bags with carved wood handles, and rich jacquard coats with obi belts inspired by 19 that continue to remind us of terrorist threats and a shaky economy, there’s a sense that women need to be seduced into spending, Ford says. “People have been buying special items since Sept. 11. They are buying clothing like they would have bought accessories before.”
the femme fatale first appeared thousands of years ago in literature, was then incorporated into theater and, finally, into film. Think Samson and Delilah. Or Helen of Troy (“Beauty, terrible beauty!” Homer wrote in the Iliad.) Cleopatra changed history by persuading Julius Caesar to help her win a civil war against her brother. After he was killed, she seduced his successor, Mark Antony; their love affair ended in a double suicide. Abbe Prevost’s famous 1731 character Manon Lescaut was a femme fatale, a mistress of amour fou, as was the protagonist in Prosper Merimee’s 1845 novella “Carmen” and Georges Bizet’s opera of the same name.
Along the way, there have been real-life femme fatales. Consider the 17th century’s Nell Gwyn, whose cleavage transformed her from a saleswoman of oranges to mistress of Charles II. Or Madame de Pompadour, a French courtesan who defied her roots to become the mistress of Louis XV. Or Christine Keeler, Wallis Simpson, Judith Campbell Exner and Monica Lewinsky.
But it was at the movies that the femme fatale-and her wardrobe-were seared into our consciousness.
She first appeared on screen during the Silent Era, according to Kevin Jones, museum collections manager at the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in L.A., when Theda Bara was credited as playing the original film “vamp.” Cast as a woman bent on wholesale destruction in “Sin” (1915), “Siren of Hell” (1915), “The Vixen” (1916) and other aptly titled films, her kohl eyeliner and dangling earrings started fashion trends.
Most of the discussion about movie femme fatales centers around the great noir films of the 1930s and ‘40s. Escapist fare produced during the Depression portrayed women using their feminine wiles to work their way from rags “Possessed” (1931), Joan Crawford runs away from her life as a worker in a cardboard box factory. She moves to New York City, where she meets a hotshot lawyer (Clark Gable) who puts her up in a Park Avenue apartment and dresses her in glorious gowns, designed by costume great Adrian. By the end of the film, she ends up ruining his political ambitions with her tarnished reputation.
The 1940s saw the release of such classic detective films as “The Maltese Falcon” (1941), “Laura” (1944), “Gilda” (1946) and “The Big Sleep” (1946). Actresses wore fabric-conserving pencil skirts (it was wartime) and blouses or jackets that had angular, almost architectural, shoulders-a trend started by Adrian to make Crawford’s shoulders broader than her hips. They carried envelope clutch purses and wore high-heeled shoes with ankle-straps, not unlike the ones designers are showing now. And for murderous, rain-soaked nights there were always trenchcoats, though they were khaki, not the peekaboo plastic that’s coming from Prada this fall.
The hard-boiled detective sagas and the women who populated them gradually receded from the big screen in the 1960s. The classic character then made a comeback in “Basic Instinct” (1992) and “Bound” (1996). In last year’s “Mulholland Drive,” Laura Harring embodied danger in sizzling red and black. In the meantime, anyone who needs a dose of dangerous beauty can wander the aisles of stores this fall.
pop culture has overflowed with “characters” (the success of the movie “Spider-Man” comes to mind), and the femme fatale is an attractive icon for those who buy into the current notion that fashion is about role-playing rather than trends. Tom Ford’s body-skimming gowns for Gucci could fit the role of evil seductress with their dramatic plunging backs and sinister slits. (“It was a merge of Jean Harlow, Clara Bow and Chrissie Hynde,” the designer says.) Newcomer Behnaz Sarafpour’s deep amethyst-colored georgette gowns, with straps that delicately criss-cross the chest, are draped in innuendo. And Posen’s 1930s-inspired creations, including a V-neck gown with an attached wing collar and a red hooded raincoat dress, evoke gumshoe mystery.
Like the outlines of a comic strip character, the graphic quality of femme fatale clothing is easy to understand. There’s something comforting about recalling a time when the narrative of life was literal enough that you could tell at first glance the good guys from the bad.>
But now that the monolithic style handed down from designers is a thing of the past, the femme fatale is just one of many personas a woman can choose from in her closet. “I don’t know many women who are going to embrace the role every day,” says Jones of the fashion institute. “But now that women really are empowered, they can be sweet and pleasant one day and a femme fatale the next. Then they can go hiking.”
