^ A celebration of the provocative beauty of woman, Saint Laurent style, at the de Young Museum in San Francisco.
For those of you who think nothing of fashion and style - especially you who dismiss them as useless, irrelevant or even annoyingly distracting from the more important issues today, especially today - I ask you to take a moment and step back and ponder this. Think of the last time you caught sight of a woman or man on the street, in a restaurant, on the train, at an event, who held your attention for more than a few seconds, and whose very atmosphere you fixated on. Everyone has had this fleeting moment with a stranger, even you.
You may not remember what they wore, who they were with, or even if it was day or evening when you saw them. But you do remember them, right? More piquantly you remember how you felt, how their presence affected you, even if you never met them. Perhaps they radiated power and confidence, or an enticing eroticism, or some oblique intellectual charisma, or even sheer cool factor. But just the same, they affected you, held your attention, admit it.
This experience you had felt is emphatically a vital, dynamic element in the coda of Yves Saint Laurent in how he creates for women. His understanding of what at once titillates and disquiets men about women isn't so much intellectual as it is intuitive. And that offers another clue into how the Saint Laurent style enchants, elusively - to analyze it is to kill it, to dissect it is to dilute it. Saint Laurent played with this enchantment sartorially, the idea of seduction through this cocktail of intelligence, knowingness, and sheer sensuality. The woman who dresses in Saint Laurent is very well aware that she can strike a man from the inside out, at once upsetting him with her intellect and massaging his vulnerabilities betwixt her fingers. And she also knows he wants that.
^ Photographer Helmut Newton's rather controversial yet iconic vision of Saint Laurent's "Le Smoking" is a powerful mix of provocation and evocation; today's "Le Smoking" as interpreted by the house of Saint Laurent's current designer Stefano Pilati is no less powerful (photographed by Greg Kadel).
A crisp khaki cotton mini dress from the late 60s is styled with details usually found only on safari hunting gear, yet the skirt is so short, hemmed at the thighs and showing off mile long legs. It's as if Saint Laurent suggested that woman can be both hunter and prey to a man. A woman's
"Le Smoking" (a black tuxedo pantsuit first conceived by Saint Laurent in 1966) envisioned in 1975 by photographer Helmut Newton deep into the night on a deserted Paris street on a willowy high cheekboned woman, half bathed in shadow, holding a cigarette, her hair slicked back like a man's, eyes cast down. Does she desire to be man or that much more feminine in her androgyny? Is she a willing victim or predator? Is she waiting pensively for someone or in thought about what she had done to someone?
The Saint Laurent style possesses the power to both challenge traditionally accepted gender roles, almost as a reprisal, and suggesting new ways to experience them without necessarily decorticating them - skirting the issue by wearing pants, as it seems. This is why his pantsuits and mini dresses caused controversy in Paris and around the fashion world during the turbulent 60s, with the Vietnam War in full swing, the white hot rise of feminism, and the post 50s cultural uprising of youth. Saint Laurent's clothes were both reactionary and boldly optimistic politically, though the shy Saint Laurent himself would have been quick to say that he was just exploring new ideas about women and beauty, not pushing buttons with subversion. Such is the oft unintended consequence of most any visionary or genius.
^ A Mondrian on my wall: the visual and textual field report from my niece from the exhibit at the de Young Museum.
Saint Laurent's exploration, as it turned out, is in the end more about the experience of feminine beauty's evocation and provocation, not a dissemination of it.
Perhaps one aspect of woman's beauty as provocateur can be explained in terms of how institutions have perceived it and dealt with it historically:
"Beauty is trivial, even though it is intertwined with money, sex, power, pride, fear, love, respect, race, and class. I believe theologians have treated beauty as trivial precisely because it affects them and those around them so powerfully that it makes them uncomfortable. They don't know what to do with it, so they pretend it doesn't matter and urge anyone who asks to do the same. Like money, like sex, like alcohol, beauty is potent enough to be dangerous."
- Is Feminine Beauty Dangerous: A Brief Look at Our Theological Legacy by Karen Lee Thorp
I regret not being in San Francisco right now to experience the current
Yves Saint Laurent exhibit at the de Young Museum (it will not be shown anywhere else in the U.S., up and running until the first week of April next year, so I still have a chance). My two nieces who live there (both young women with strong individual personalities) saw it. One of them sent me a postcard, a mannequin in one of Saint Laurent's iconic Mondrian inspired dresses. I wrote this post in response to her quizzical comment about the exhibit and of the role of haute couture in the world, hopefully it can explain things a bit. As well I'll leave off with a quote from an album of the 80s German band Propoganda....
"Without love, beauty, and danger it would be almost impossible to live."
Yves Saint Laurent invoked all three, indeed.
< A single room at The Jane harks back to early 20th century digs that bawdy sailors rented for 25 cents a night.
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