Fashion on the Ration

At the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939, with the disruption of everyday life, fear of an imminent gas attack and invasion, and resources thrown into the war effort, people wondered if fashion would just 'go away'. But quite the opposite happened, clothing and fashion adapted to the time, retailers saw new opportunities, people made do and mended, the British government got involved and mass manufacture became more efficient, producing price regulated, decent quality clothes for all.
The exhibition, 'Fashion on the Ration' tells this story at the Imperial War Museum, London.  

The fashion landscape changed, more uniforms were seen on the streets, both the armed forces and women's auxiliary services. Some uniforms were more desirable than others which swayed people's decisions about signing up. 

The air force uniform was considered very smart, the men named the 'Brylcreem boys'. 

Apart from school, I've never worn a uniform, except perhaps for this one, for a very short time, in the Girl-Guides.

Like these Girl-Guides taking part in a fund raising parade in 1941.

If you hadn't signed up and been issued a uniform, there was a kind of home front uniform.
The housecoat, worn to protect your hard-to-replace everyday clothes. Funny how I've grown up thinking that a housecoat was kind of dressing gown.

Housecoats increased in popularity. These housecoats look to good to do the housework in. I wouldn't be drying my hands on them like I do with my grubby kitchen apron.

And aircraft factory overalls in Manchester weren't that bad either.

Retailers saw opportunities and jumped on the bandwagon, creating clothes and accessories for war conditions.

Like the 'Siren Suit'. Perfect for pulling on over your nightie for that middle of the night dash to the air raid shelter. This even has a drop down flap at the rear for convenience. Mind you how convenient was the lavatory back at the house when you were ensconced in a shelter down the garden? 

And luminous accessories for the Blackout. Buttons and flowers.

Plus checkout these handbags with gas mask compartments. 

Or you could just take the government's advice and wear something white, cheaper that way. This wasn't just a gimmick, one in five people were injured in the blackout. 

In 1941 rationing was introduced. Food had been rationed for over a year. The government wanted to safeguard raw material and free up labour and factory space for the war effort. The rationing of clothes was successful in ensuing decent quality, durable, price regulated supplies for all, resulting in clothes being distributed more fairly.  

You were issued with 66 coupons and a dress was 11. So the public were encouraged to 'Make Do and Mend'. This was the bit of the exhibition I was really looking forward to.

Two Sussex dressmakers made this from scraps.

Perhaps inspired by 'Woman'.

This dressing gown was made from an RAF silk 'escape map'. Surplus maps were sold off to the public in 1945.

Then you could also knit for yourself.

Fairisle was a 'useful for using up scraps of different coloured wool'. So they say, I reckon fairisle is more complicated and planned than that. I could well be wrong. 

'Make Do and Mend' has been embraced recently, capturing some kind of romantic nostalgic attitude to crafts and recycling, but this official rhetoric was not particulalrly liked at the time.

This wedding dress was made from pre-war silk intended for petticoats. It was first worn by Evelyn Higginson in 1943, who later lent it to fourteen other women, including her sister Linda in 1946.

I came to Fashion on the Ration at the Imperial War Museum with a little idea how the Second World War had impacted fashion in the forties, influenced by necessity, the need to protect what clothes they had, newly available jobs in the factories, lack of raw materials and the like. The most surprising thing I found out was that the government, in regulating the use of rubber, one of the rarest of commodities in war time, prioritised the use of elastic for women. 'Women's knickers were one of few garments where the use of elastic was allowed'.

Don't get to excited though, here's a pair of  'Utility peach rayon knickers'.

Fashion on the Ration is on at the Imperial War Museum, London until 31st August 2015.

Details on their website here.

Before they are accused of a one-sided look at fashion and clothing in the Second World War. There were men's garments and accessories, I just don't seem to have taken any photos of them.  

Tate Britain from the floor

This is a kind of guest blog post. Well it's a joint effort, I scribed.

Introducing my eleven, very nearly twelve, year old son.

Who I "made" go to Tate Britain with his mum, sister and friends.

Getting the following photos came about quite by chance, when he inventively and creatively got himself out of the "it's boring" place when he began documenting his visit on his mobile phone. He insisted on bringing his phone with him because he was going to be bored. As far as I could tell, this was so he could ignore us all and play games on the train into central London. But he didn't play games.

He took photos. And played with the settings on the camera.

First the panorama setting, "in the massive hall".

"Mum, that's you in the photo and a man who walked along while I took the photo so he's in it twice"

The photo below is taken by me. I found the boys like this, on the floor taking photos, happily ignoring the stares by staff and visitors.

These are some of the photos my son took whilst lying on the floor in the Christina Mackie sculpture.

"This is a diagonal panorama that didn't work because the net is split into three."

Then they tried it in the other galleries.

Next he played with the 'cartoon' setting, experimenting on me in the cafe first.

I hate photos of me, and contrary to what this looks like, I was having a really nice time.

He couldn't wait to get back to the "massive hall", but some of the attraction was being able to skid around on the shiny floor.

and then take photos of these "two sisters, who look like like mine in the future".

Here's how he described the paintings that he took photos of.

"This is three boys playing in a tree with a dog and a lethal weapon, a bow".

"This man looked important."

"Horses grazing, the white horse is the odd one out."

" A weird pose."

"Trees. These trees looked special because they were hidden behind a cloth."
(They were under a cloth, hidden away from the light.)

"I'm not being rude but that was the first black guy I saw in a painting in the museum and it proves that discrimination in those times was real."

"Jesus healing a sick woman."

"A Roman Colosseum."

"She looks like she's lost."

"This looks like the lady from the boat who has fallen in the river and looks even more lost."

"Me."

"I was bored so I found out what my phone could do."

I've been thinking about why I've written this post, bothered to show this to others. It's not about my son, or me, or the seemingly worthy Easter holiday trip to an art gallery, to the Tate Britain. But I wanted to flag up the ways children can access museums and galleries. And, dare I say it, the creative and inventive ways mobile phones can be used in museums. We took sketchbooks with us, even me. But my son did it his way, it wasn't planned, it wasn't expected. But I love the results, he loved the day, and next time I suggest visiting a museum or art gallery hopefully he won't protest quite so much, "because they're fun".  

I wish I had the courage to lie on the floor in art galleries.

Details about Tate Britain on the website here.
Take kids, a camera and see what happens.

Cotton to Gold

Two Temple Place in London is only open to the public for a few months each year.

Every year, in this magnificent building, there's an exhibition of publicly owned objects and art-work from museums and galleries from around the UK.

This year it's the turn of Blackburn Museum & Art Gallery, Haworth Art Gallery and Towneley Hall Art Gallery & Museum with the exhibition Cotton to Gold.

What have these three museums and galleries got in common?

All have objects collected by industrial entrepreneurs in the North West, bought with wealth amassed through the booming textile industry in Lancashire in the late 1800s. These men were magnates of industry and trade and they had spare cash, a lot of it, to collect stuff.

Collecting has always been a hobby, and one that has been part of the story of museum collections. You can read about this in my post, 'Cabinets of Wonder: Royal Albert Memorial Museum', here. 

We are told, 'Displaying these collections together, the exhibition highlights the circumstances of their exceptional accumulation, asking what such groups of objects can reveal about their owners and the rapidly-changing times in which they lived'.

So who are these men, what did they do and what did they collect?

Here are a few.

Robert Edward Hart, rope maker,

with his books, ...of Hours.

And coins. Roman, Greek, Byzantium and British.

 He got the set, one from each Roman emperor from Augustus to the 3rd century AD.

Gold coins from the reign of Elizabeth I.

The daughter of the king played by Damian Lewis. We had a little Wolf Hall chat with another visitor.

Seriously though, these coins in front of us were in circulation 500 years ago, used to buy things. We think that's quite something.

Thomas Boys Lewis, managed the family's cotton spinning mill,

and collected Japanese prints.

"I'd like to knit a scarf in either of these two colourways".

Arthur C. Bowdler and his beetles from all over the world, was a successful manufacturing chemist and factory owner.

Joseph Briggs, a fabric designer, not only collected Tiffany ware but worked for him, he was his chief assistant.

George A. Booth, an iron founder from Preston collected stuffed birds.

Some in cases,

and some not.

Some with claws nearly as big as our hands.

George Eastwood, who began his working life, aged 10, in a local mill, and as far as I can tell, made his money with a party planning business for the rich and famous of Manchester, collected ivories.

James Hardcastle collected book illustrations.

Nothing is known of his life, just his collection.

Wilfred Dean who made gas-heated washing machines and boilers, collected life-drawings by John Everett Millais.

Millais was a pretty significant figure in the art world, was this investment or a genuine love of drawing? In answering this question, I find out that Wilfred Dean was closely involved in the development of Towneley Hall Art Gallery and 'played a significant role in its purchasing decisions'.

There's a bigger picture surrounding the accrued wealth that financed these collections, which is recognised in the exhibition.

Questions about the hardships workers endured, ivory, taxidermy, child labour are acknowledged. As said in the museum interpretation, 'Doubtless prompted by the hardships endured by their workers, the industrialists of the North West supported a wide range of cultural causes that benefited the inhabitants of the cotton towns. ...they funded museums and galleries, founded local orphanages and schools, and donated money to local churches and Blackburn Cathedral.'

I'll leave that thought with you. The balance of workers' conditions and philanthropy. Was this just a thing of the past?

Cotton, where it all began.

Cotton to Gold is on at Two Temple Place until 19th April 2015.

Details on their website here.

As well as the exhibition, you get to see inside Two Temple Place. we loved that too.

If you'd like to see inside, check out this post by blogger Fun60, 'Two temple Place'.