Caryn Franklin
One of the many legacies left by Queen Elizabeth II is an illustration of how clothes can unite a nation. Captured in motion by an army of lenses and women during her 70-year reign, Britain’s longest-serving monarch displayed an innate and precise understanding of visual branding.
The value of fashion and image-making had previously been explored with positive results by Elizabeth’s father, King George VI: On a mission to regain public confidence after his brother Edward VIII abdicated to marry the twice-divorced American Wallis Simpson, he invited couturier Norman Hartnell to peruse Buckingham Palace’s art collection for inspiration. While the sophisticated Simpson wore the latest fashions, the King commissioned dresses for his wife and daughters that underscored the traditions—and thus the stability—of the Victorian era.
After her father’s death in 1952, Queen Elizabeth II’s accession to the throne brought with it the immediate need to once again pacify her people. The spectacle of Elizabeth, a glamorous and charismatic royal, would now be enhanced with the gravitas and authority to secure politicians, international heads of state and subjects for her long target game.
Notes from the Royal Collection Trust reveal that Hartnell submitted nine different designs for the coronation dress and the new queen chose his eighth, embellished with layers of sculpted embroidery bordered with pearls, diamonds and gold beads.
With a masterful political savvy, and the world’s press upon her, Elizabeth curated the biggest red carpet moment of all. Apparently, “Glorious” was her word for the dress that dazzled and delighted her subjects.
Such is the power of an outfit or an outfit that this monarch quickly learned to eschew fashion novelty, trading the quirks of short-lived trends and loud statement silhouettes for a purposeful statement in every appearance. Thus, Elizabeth never missed an opportunity to convey a message of reliability, stability and endurance to her audience.
Of course, there were fashion high notes for daywear, but brought as a flourish. Looking at archival photos from her reign, we see an easy take on the trends of the decade, such as the cinched waist of the 50s; the shorter skirt lengths, sleeveless dresses and pillboxes of the 60s; and ’70s bold turbans and prints. And who could forget the Queen’s power dressing in high-octane colors for the 80s?
Later in life, Elizabeth became a master of matching dresses, gowns and hats in bold colors like purple, orange, red and fuchsia. Warmth and approachability – as well as the need to stand out easily in a crowd at her diminutive height – meant beige rarely made the grade.
In his memoirs, Hardy Amies, another royal tailor, summed up the timeless quality needed for royal appearances when he wrote: “Style is far more pleasing than elegant. Style has heart and respects the past; chic, on the other hand, is relentless and lives entirely for the present.”
Style also takes a lot of management and, working with Angela Kelly, her trusted personal assistant and wardrobe curator, Elizabeth created a manifesto for career clothing success. The fabrics were tested for limited rustling and anti-wrinkle traction, and weighted at the hem to prevent damaging drafts. Subtle prints were used to prevent marks from showing, and there were even removable underarm pads to hide sweat. For overseas travel, clothing was designed to subtly compliment the customs and culture of the host country.
White gloves, always by Cornelia James, were sometimes changed several times a day, and anchored hats with matching tonal hats coordinated with a much-loved Rayne or Anello & Davide mid-heel shoe (broken in by the staff and repaired regularly). It would all be topped off with a modestly sized leather bag, often worn by Launer.
Speaking to the Times in 2012, Stewart Parvin, who has designed for the Queen since 2000, revealed that the clothes were presented by name and cataloged according to where she wore them and who she met. “That’s why people will think she wears things once, because there is such a system,” Parvin said. “If she were to meet President Obama, she wouldn’t wear the same dress.”
However, there would also be levity. For example, at the “Royal Variety Performance” in November 1999, Elizabeth wore a multi-colored bodice and sleeves with sequins and a bold yellow skirt, which excited the paparazzi. And then there was the sharp lime green ensemble worn for a balcony outing at the Trooping the Color parade to mark her 90th birthday.
In private, Elizabeth, a rider and racehorse owner, preferred neutral shades. Tweeds, boots and waterproofs would be accessorized with the signature silk triangle scarf. While at Balmoral Castle in Scotland for family holidays and official events, the Queen would proudly wear the Balmoral tartan designed by Prince Albert, her great-great-grandfather.
To know that denim was not a fabric to be entertained by the Queen is to know that this was a woman who seemingly never took a day off from a constant non-verbal conversation with her subjects: A Conversation for Those Who Have a need for reassurance, a statement to those who sought her authority, and a statement to all who wanted to connect on a human level with the woman who wore the crown.
This deliberate transmission of the benefits of a reign born of subtle progress, not dramatic change to shock or destabilize, can be seen as a virtuoso performance in public appearance – and one that this monarch no doubt struggled to convey. younger members of her clan. .
Top image: Queen Elizabeth and Anna Wintour on the front row of the Richard Quinn fashion show during London Fashion Week in 2018.
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