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DEIRDRE MCSHARRY RECALLS THE RULES OF RESPECTABILITY
Ifs not a word you hear often today, respectable, but I am
old enough to recall the word's power, the necessity of
looking respectable. Getting dressed to 'Go Out' was like
arming for war - gloves, heels, proper coat, stockings
with seams, hair done and if possible a hat. Untidy
clothes were as bad as loose morals. From the age of
seven, when I made my First Communion dressed in
white, everything worn in public had to be immaculate.
As I was already boarding in a convent I understood the
rules. From the smallest pupil in her tunic to the Mother
Prioress in her medieval robes we were all uniformed.
The girls at my convent school called my mother
'The Merry Widow'. It was wartime Dublin and as a
young widow she was expected to wear mourning biack.
She did so with dash. There was perhaps, a shade too
much diamante at ear and throat. Underneath was a
satin slip and lace suspenders. The 'respectable' court
shoes had silver heels. Kid gloves were crushed to show
the wrist. The hat was swathed in a veil that made the
most of the maquillage and tinted hair. The nuns
clustered round my Mum and begged her to help them
make costumes for the school plays. Thank God she -
a working mum! - appeared to play by the rules.
As did we as devout convent girls: veils for Mass,
hair scraped back or plaited tight. Skirts were long,
drooped over Liberty bodices, knitted stockings and
knickers down to the knee. A bony hand would often
check after we dressed that we had not pulled up the
elastic to make them short. Skirts must cover our heels
when kneeling. Complaints garnered the retort "Who is
looking at you anyway?" This was puzzling as we
dressed to be deemed "respectabie" and have that
respectability noticed.
With a mother who edited a woman's magazine
inevitably I ended up in the business. Commenting on
what women wore and why became a way of life and I
grasped that the 'uniform' is always with us. From the
age of 13 I had aped the New Look in a mini corset and
skirt I made from a circle of felt. It stuck in my bike
wheels but saw me through college.
Uniformly dressed
When, later, a journalist friend took me to meet his
mother, a Fieet Street columnist, I noted her suit, hat,
camellia pinned to lapel, typing with red nails and
thought: 1 could do that. Get the uniform, get the job.
In the New York of the Fifties the uniform was
paramount. I arrived in the offices of Women's Wear
Daily \n my Donegal tweed suit, brown court shoes and
(laddered!) stockings. It all had to go. Suit too hot for
central heating, shoes and ladders too tacky for my
editor. New etiquette: black leather accessories for
winter, black patent for summer, white gloves and tight
tailoring for slogging down Seventh Avenue.
By the early Sixties the young president's wife, Mrs
Kennedy, influenced by French designer Givenchy -
and her mantra to "look like a column" - created a new
etiquette. The oid uniform morphed into the Jackie
Look. And very useful that bouffant/pillbox/gloves/soft
suit get-up proved to be for working girls everywhere.
Until the Sixties began to shake and swing.
In Paris I saw singer Sylvie Vartan on stage with
Johnny Hallyday in a dress like a nightie, while back in
my London office Twiggy twirled in little boy shorts and a
Fairisle knitted by her mum. She liked skimpy skirts and
showing her knickers. Toothy smile and freckles.
Suddenly posh models looked old - and out. Mini and
skinny was the news.
With skirts at crotch level stockings and suspenders
were redundant. In came tights. The body suit followed
as transparency became the rave, followed by a torrent
of styles from Boho hippy to Courreges' space style. At
the Paris collections I recall seeing a gang of New York
fashion editors dressed as Montenegran peasants.
Those were heady times. The old certainties were
crumbling. The availability of tights coincided with the
arrival of birth control pills and the dishwasher. Ail three
advanced the cause of women's liberation. We got
better jobs. Made our own rules. Stopped worrying <•
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about class and wore what was comfortable. Symbols CL
of respectabiiity? In a world of jeans for everybody
o.
who needed them? • • • •TO
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