Couture Decor
Hats, Purses, Kimonos Hang
As Art On Collectors' Walls;
The Bowling Shirt Problem
By LAUREN LIPTON
Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
September 24, 2004; Page W10
Art consultant Barbara Guggenheim, who regularly brokers sales of million-dollar paintings, could display pretty much anything she wanted on the walls of her homes. But, there isn't much fine art in her Paris-area pied-Ã -terre. Instead, she says, "I have this other passion." One hallway is lined with floor-to-ceiling framed vintage handkerchiefs. In a guest room, a sculpture is an antique mannequin pinned with rhinestone brooches. A bathroom boasts still more hankies -- all with a poodle theme. "My husband won't even go in there," she says.
Now appearing alongside the Picasso: your purse. With vintage fashion becoming an increasingly popular -- and pricey -- collectible, more people are taking wearable items out of mothballs and into the living room to show off as art. Popular display items include kimonos, cowboy boots, military attire, celebrity costumes and designer-label accessories -- anything collectors deem colorful or visually interesting. Even some closets are getting the museum treatment, with backlit, glass-fronted cabinets that set off each Hermes handbag like a priceless Grecian urn.
Collectors call their fashion installations a way to showcase their personal style -- and a home décor unlikely to be duplicated anywhere else. They say period clothing, shoes and hats make great display pieces because they're bright and colorful, with a level of craftsmanship and detail that's rare today. Besides, with prices like these, collectors say, it makes little sense to pack this stuff away. Sales of vintage clothing and accessories are up 80% since 1999 at auction house Doyle New York; the average lot price grew from $542 to $1,187 during the same period. And while prices in the vintage clothing field first started taking off for kimonos and Elvis jumpsuits, in recent years designer couture and accessories have been popular collectibles.
Accessible Art
For some homeowners, the appeal of couture and clothing as art is its accessibility. While a piece of fine art can be off-putting, everybody can relate to a shoe or a jacket, says Eric Lysdahl, an interior designer in New York. Fashion pieces are tactile, sculptural and three-dimensional -- and not that hard to interpret. "There's a comfort level," he says.
But for many, another appeal of vintage fashion -- Princess Diana's party dresses aside -- is that it doesn't have to cost a fortune. Period handkerchiefs can be had for a few dollars; old boots can go for around $125. At any given time on eBay, there are about 57,000 vintage fashion items for sale.
Collector Chryse Paul says she just wants a great conversation piece. The Monticello, Minn., photographer last week bought five outfits at a Sotheby's auction of the estate of Johnny and June Carter Cash, including a $2,400 rose-colored suede tunic and skirt with Native American-style beading that Mrs. Cash wore for a 1982 appearance at the Tennessee State Fairgrounds. When she's not wearing them, Ms. Paul plans to display her new clothes on antique mannequins. "They won't be stuck in a closet," she says.
Still, having several hundred Bakelite bracelets or dress forms in Edwardian costume can be a bit off-putting to guests. Daryl Chen, a New York editor, displays over 100 handbags -- including one that's made out of kangaroo fur and plays "Waltzing Matilda" -- on shelves in her living room. "It's a good litmus test," she says. If first-time visitors "don't ask those obligatory, how-many-do-you-have, do-you-use-them questions, I know they're not my people."
Some fashionistas keep their collections in their closets, but that doesn't mean the clothing is not on display. Austin, Texas, architect Bob Wetmore says his firm, Cornerstone Group Architects, works on 50 homes a year with closets that have gallery-like details such as humidity control, ventilation, and glass-and-mahogany cabinets. (There was virtually no demand a decade ago.) One client has a special place to showcase a pair of go-go boots; another, Austin homeowner Jeanne Parker, has glass-fronted cases that house her ball gowns, fur coats and shoes. "It kind of looks like a library," she says.
Outside a museum, though, displaying fashion objects can be risky. One danger: The living room goes out of fashion. Some collectors say they quickly grow tired of their displays and then have to stuff them back in the closet.
In Mothballs
Then there's the matter of taking care of the clothes. The Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York fields at least three calls a day from people with conservation questions, says a spokeswoman, up from "sporadic" calls a few years ago. Old fabric is notoriously fragile, and experts say hanging old garments on a mannequin or on the wall can further stress the fabric, causing rips. Leather goods can dry out and crack in a hot room. Then there's the mothball problem. "Nothing's worse than smelling a dress that's been sitting in a box of mothballs for 40 years," says Kristi Paras, co-owner of Zachary's Smile, a New York vintage boutique.
R VanGorden Stedman pairs modern art with his collection of uniform jackets and dozens of pairs of Vans skateboard shoes (they line the baseboard in his Tampa, Fla., home). But he's learned the hard way that you can't display vintage clothing and accessories everywhere. His bowling shirts used to hang in his sunny laundry room, until they started to fade. He sold them for half of what he could have gotten, had they been in mint condition, he says.
Still, he's not parting with the 1950s oversize Wrangler rodeo-clown jeans that are laid out across a bookshelf -- even if they do get in the way. "They cover up part of my reference library," he says. "I have to put the pants on top of my head to peer underneath."
--Amir Efrati contributed to this article.
Write to Lauren Lipton at lauren.lipton@wsj.com
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