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 her twice American divorcee Wallis Simpson, invited the decorator 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 emphasized the traditions — and thus the stability — of the Victorian era.
After her father’s death in 1952, Queen Elizabeth II’s ascension to the throne brought with it the immediate need to once again pacify her people. The spectacle of Elizabeth, a glamorous and charismatic monarch, would now be enhanced with gravitas and authority to reassure politicians, international heads of state and his subjects of her long-term game.
Notes from the Royal Collection Trust reveal that Hartnell submitted nine different designs for the coronation dress, and the young queen chose his eighth, embellished with stone studs embroidered with pearls, diamonds and gold beads.
With a masterpiece of political savvy, and with the world’s press on her side, Elizabeth pulled off the biggest red carpet moment of all. “Glorious” was her own word for the dress that charmed and delighted her onlookers.
Such is the power of an outfit or an outfit that this monarch quickly learned to eschew fashion innovation, trading the trickery of short-lived trends and strong statement silhouettes for a purposeful announcement in every look. Thus, Elizabeth never missed an opportunity to give a message of reliability, stability and stability to her audience.
Of course, there were also high fashion notes for daywear, but they flourished. Looking at archival photos from her reign, we see an effortless development of the decade’s trends, such as the cinched waist of the 50s. the shorter skirt lengths, sleeveless dresses and pillbox hats of the 60s. and the turbans and bold prints of the 70s. And who could forget the Queen power-dressing in high-octane colors for the 80s?
Later in life, Elizabeth established herself as a master of dress, frock and matching hat in colors as bold as purple, orange, red and fuchsia. Warmth and approachability — as well as the need to be easily spotted in a crowd with her short stature — meant beige rarely made the grade.
Queen Elizabeth II sits next to Anna Wintour as they watch Richard Quinn’s runway show before presenting him with the inaugural Queen Elizabeth II Award for British Design in February 2018 in London. (CNN/Yui Mok/WPA Pool/Getty Images) In his memoirs, Hardy Amies, another royal couturier, summed up the timeless quality required of royal looks when he wrote: “Style is far more satisfying than elegant. Style has heart and respects the past. Elegant, on the other hand, he is ruthless and lives entirely for the present.” Style is also heavily managed and, in collaboration with Angela Kelly, her trusted personal assistant and wardrobe curator, Elizabeth has created a manifesto for careerwear success. Fabrics were tested for limited rust and wrinkle appeal and weighted at the hem to prevent gusts of wind causing mischief. Subtle prints were used to prevent marks, and there were even removable pads to hide sweat. For trips abroad, clothing was designed to subtly complement the customs and culture of the host country. White gloves, always by Cornelia James, were changed sometimes several times a day, and hats anchored with tonal matching hats were coordinated with a well-loved Rayne or Anello & Davide mid-heel shoe (broken in by the staff and repaired regularly). Everything would be finished off with a medium-sized, frequently worn leather bag from Launer. Speaking to The Times in 2012, Stewart Parvin, who has designed for the Queen since 2000, revealed that the clothes were listed by name and cataloged according to where she had worn them and who she had met. “That’s why people will think she wears things once, because there’s such a system,” Parvin said. “If she was going to meet President Obama, she wouldn’t wear the same dress.” But there would also be frivolity. At the Royal Variety Performance in November 1999, for example, Elizabeth wore a colorful bodice with harlequin sequins and sleeves with a bright yellow skirt, which delighted the paparazzi. And then there was the shrill green ensemble she wore for a balcony appearance at the Trooping the Color parade to celebrate her 90th birthday. In private, Elizabeth, an equestrian and racehorse owner, preferred neutral shades. Tweeds, boots and raincoats would be accessorized with the signature silk triangle scarf. While at Balmoral Castle in Scotland for family holidays and official functions, the Queen proudly wore the Balmoral tartan designed by Prince Albert, her great-grandfather. To know that denim was not a fabric for the queen to entertain means that this was a woman who seemingly never took time off from a constant non-verbal conversation with her subjects: A conversation for those who needed reassurance, a statement for those who sought her authority and a statement for all who wished to connect on some human level with the woman who wore the crown. This deliberate transmission of the virtues of a reign born of subtle progress, not dramatic change to shock or destabilize, can be seen as a virtuoso performance in public display — and one that this monarch no doubt took pains to convey to younger members of the tribe. Editor’s note: Caryn Franklin is a fashion and identity commentator and professor of diversity at the Kingston School of Art in London.
