Catwalk and trade shows can honestly be a stressful business: while overdosing on clothes and accessories you easily lose the perception of what simple words such as “reality” or “humanity” actually mean.
In our fast world in which images of catwalk shows are available online 5 minutes after the shows actually took place, things become even more pointless like spending hours bingeing onto something and then vomiting it without even digesting it.
To avoid such things, I came up with a personal routine that I put into practice when things become too much for me in such commercial events, the “Tirellata”.
This word is a sort of homage to Umberto Tirelli, the Italian tailor who worked with many important costume designers and directors.
I often mentioned him in previous posts on this blog, so some of you may already be familiar with his name.
As you may remember, Tirelli loved to define himself an “archaeologist of fashion” since, apart from making costumes, he was also a collector and an amazing fashion connoisseur and researcher.
So a “Tirellata” for me means disappearing from the radar for a few hours and hiding myself in a museum, a library, a specialised bookshop and such likes and do a little personal research, trying to discover more about costume design or fashion history or just tying to find further inspirations to write.
While in Florence I escaped for a while to Palazzo Pitti's Costume Gallery and browsed their digital archive that contains some wonderful images of garments and accessories preserved in their collection.
The archive also features a section of images dedicated to the pieces donated by Umberto Tirelli.
Browsing these images was great since I managed to refresh my memory and remember a few designs I had forgotten about, in particular three costumes created for Gioachino Rossini’s Semiramide, directed by Pier Luigi Pizzi in 1980.
Pizzi worked as director, but also as set and costume designer, mainly for the theatre and the opera.
In his work as costume designer Pizzi always tried to reinvent things in his own way rather than follow history and, in the case of Rossini’s opera, he opted for a solemnly abstract representation of Babylon.
There were two main inspirations behind the costumes for this opera: Masquerade à la Grecque by French architect Ennemond-Alexandre Petitot (check out the engravings at the beginnings of this post and compare them with the three pictures of the costumes for the priest, the dame and the knight, amazing, isn't it?) and Piranesi’s fireplaces with their elaborate Roman, Egyptian and Assyrian motifs.
The costumes were made out of white gabardine, poplin and shantung and included white plastic features, wigs and headdresses inspired by sculptures and architectural elements.
All these stucco-like parts were made by Rubechini, a company specialised in theatrical supplies, sets and costumes.
I was familiar with these images, but I had sort of forgotten about them and it was great to see them again as they reminded me that Tirelli was really able to produce both historically perfect designs and fantastically imaginative work.
Besides the more I looked at them, the more I thought about statuesque designs such as V&R’s A/W 2009 collection and actually told myself that, maybe, fashion hasn’t invented anything, and talented costume designers and tailoring houses can still amaze, enchant and inspire us with their work.
Comments
You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.