When I was four or five, I went to my first ever ballet lesson. Not having bought my tutu or ballet slippers yet, I went instead in my favourite flowery dress, and walked through the door of our little town hall clutching nervously at my mum’s hand. Inside, a group of twenty little girls, perfectly decked out in pink silk, fine netting and soft jersey, stared at me like I was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. I was horrified. I didn’t know what first position was, and I’d certainly never be able to tame my fringe into one of those neat little buns. So the following week, I went to modern, instead, where I was free to dress a little like a boy, and run around to my hyperactive little heart’s content.

Moral of the story is; little girls are as mean as fully grown women when it comes to clothes, and I will spend my days looking for any excuse going to wear a leotard. This, coupled with my love of everything the Mulleavy sisters lay their hands on, left me very, very excited for Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan, which I finally went to see last night.

The hype surrounding this film has been huge, with rave reviews, a flurry of award nominations, and those stunning dresses to boot, so I was a little apprehensive of whether it would meet my high expectations. It did. The dark, sinister storyline, the sweet and vulnerable fighting the insouciant bad girl, the close-your-eyes-and-then-peep-through-your-fingers-anyway effects; I left satisfied, if a little disbelieving, and then proceeded to think about the final dance scene all night, and throughout the following day. Which is always a sign of a really good film, isn’t it?

Rodarte were asked to design seven costumes for the film, taking what appears to be a logical first step into costume design, for a film with a very like-minded aesthetic. “It was very natural,” the Mulleavy sisters told Vogue. “It was one of the most exciting things for us to do because the end project was breathtaking.”

Perhaps the most interesting element of their work on the costumes for the film is the functionality of the designs. ‘”Building a tutu is one of the lost couture arts,” she told the New York Magazine. “Everyone will know it’s like getting your hand on the prize, like a coveted piece of couture that no one ever gets to see. It’s very interesting, the dance world. You can’t go rent a tutu. You have to own it. And every ballet theatre has an archive and everything is stored and kept perfect. They’re worn over time and they’re ruined and they have slits and eyes in different spots, so they’re never actually perfect, but from afar, when you’re in the audience, it looks like one of the most beautiful things in the world. So our job then was to create tutus that were beautiful, but then they had to function completely. A tutu is thirteen layers of tulle sticking straight out and then it’s over the body, so you can imagine. It’s crazy!”‘

Below, on set photography by Autumn de Wilde.

This season, Chloe, too, has been heavily influenced by the dance world in their SS ’11 collection, showing what seem to be immaculate imitations of exactly what a black and white swan should embody. The sheer tulle layers are an unequalled manifestation of effortless luxury for spring, whilst the translucency of the fabric makes the sometimes tricky mid-length a hundred times easier to execute. American Apparel, too, have cottoned onto the idea. I’m gonna be practising my pirouette for weeks.

Header from cinemadoor. All other photographs from style.com. On set photography by Autumn de Wilde.

Article | Maisie Skidmore

frockOn 2011

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Author: Maisie May

Bio
Maisie May Skidmore is currently based in London. She studies English at King's College London, and writes for frockOn and other fashion blogs.