Have his Carcase by Dorothy L Sayers
published 1932
I’m doing extra posts on aspects of the Lord Peter Wimsey books by
Dorothy L Sayers, following on from my talk for the DLS Society.
Have His Carcase has
featured before – Harriet’s vamping
outfit (first ever entry on the blog), and her hiking outfit, and her general thoughts on
fashion and women (which we feel justified in
attributing to Sayers herself).
The other major outfit in the book is the claret-coloured dress.
Harriet has ended up unexpectedly staying in a posh hotel, and has to buy something to wear for the formal dining arrangements. She mentions this to Lord
Peter. He says:
“Well, get a wine-coloured one, then. I’ve always
wanted to see you in wine-colour. It suits people with honey-coloured
skin, (What an ugly word “skin” is.) “Blossoms of the honey- sweet
and honey-coloured nenuphar” — I always have a quotation for everything —
it saves original thinking.’
[The quote is from a lush Oscar Wilde poem called The Sphinx. Lord Peter's bit on 'original thinking' has now become an internet-y kind of quote in its own right, in a rather meta way.]
Harriet runs after Lord Peter and says:
‘Port or sherry?...The frock — port or sherry?’
‘Claret,’ said Wimsey. ‘Chateau Margaux 1893 or
thereabouts. I’m not particular to a year or two.’
And the next thing we know, she is swaying round the dance-lounge
of the Resplendent, in the arms of a professional dancer – in a claret-coloured
frock.
I have a friend who is a Master of Wine, so I asked him which was the colour most like the Chateau Margaux, showed him a few dresses, and he chose the one at the top of the entry, which is a Paquin design. He said he wouldn’t dare be so opinionated about a woman partner’s dress, & sent me this wine colourmatch chart and some helpful comments.
With this right hand column recommended for claret:
Which suggest that actually an aged and wonderful claret would have more copper-y tones. But I don’t think that’s how we’re seeing it, any of us. And DLS got her wine wrong elsewhere, I believe, with the Chateau d'Yqem. (I have absolutely no expertise in these matters myself, I rely on others.)
Then recently I saw some ballet at the Royal Opera
House, and thought this female dancer was definitely in a claret-coloured
dress… You
can’t say I don’t put in the research.
What seems certain is that the dress would have been biascut. Harriet/DLS, watching women in eveningwear, thinks 'The slender-seeming waists were made so, not by savage tight-lacing, but by sheer expensive dressmaking.'
During the 1920s, a designer called Madeleine Vionnet, along with other contemporaries, introduced the bias cut in clothes, particularly evening dresses, which did change the shape of women’s looks. It did not of course totally replace or get rid of corsetry, shapewear – that was the idea but honestly wasn’t going to happen - but it theoretically freed women up to look lovely in dresses that moved with them and had a flattering fit, this I think is what Sayers is referring to. It was a change from straight up and down, these below:
lovely dresses, but NOT bias cut – to something more flowing.
Below are the bias cut dresses, you can see the different silhouette:
It is even clearer in this picture from a sewing pattern –
the dresses are pieced together here, the fabric having been
cut on the bias ie if you can imagine, turned through 90 45 degrees [corrected, see comment below], so the warp
and weft are on the diagonal. This gives structure and flexibility and
honestly, just looks lovely. Still does.
The bias cut has had such an impact on fashion, hasn't it, Moira? I'm really glad you discuss that here. And I have to say, DLS may have got her wine wrong here or there, but I like the way it comes into the whole discussion of what the dress should be like. It works, if that makes sense, and I like Wimsey's response about what sort of wine would be the right shade for the dress.
ReplyDeleteI find it so interesting that just turning material through 90 degrees could be so revolutionary.
DeleteAnd the whole dress story adds to the relationship between Harriet and Peter doesn't it?
It's actually only 45 degrees. 🙂 Ninety degrees is a perpendicular angle, i.e. the angle warp and weft are at, so turning it 90 degrees just changes which of the two your "grain" is. :-)
DeleteP.S. A full circle is 360 degrees, ninety degrees is 1/4 of a circle - that kind of helps me with remembering / picturing it.
DeleteGuilty as charged! I have corrected it in the post. I know that perfectly well really, just getting a muddled brain....
DeleteDeep red - something from the bottom row of samples - seems to be what most people think of as "wine-coloured" even though wine comes in all colours from pale green to deep brown. I was quite surprised that sherry occurred to Harriet in this context. Lovely bias-cut dresses but I suspect home dressmakers cursed the new style - much more difficult both to cut and sew than the straight-up-and-down twenties style, and more extravagant in terms of fabric needed. But as you say, very flexible - if one expands sideways over time it can stretch to accommodate one's new shape, though it does also get shorter.
ReplyDeleteSovay
Bias cut dresses tend to have dippy hems which helps with the movement.
DeleteColour naming is a fascinating thing - there are a lot of theories and discussions round Homer's description of the sea: in English the translation is usually wine-dark, but there are mysteries about that, and it's more like wine-faced, even stranger.
Getting a straight hem on anything cut on the cross can be a nightmare - deliberate dippiness is a useful way round that, quite apart from the added movement,
DeleteSovay
And it looks right with a bias cut.
DeleteWhen I had sewing in Home Economics (back when the earth was cooling), I really really REALLY hated the bias cut!
DeleteLucky me - I was so bad at sewing class that I never got as far as bias cut.
Delete"I always have a quotation for everything — it saves original thinking."
ReplyDeleteMore T.H. White!
In The Master, the 157 year old title character (who is out to take over the world, of course) usually communicates telepathically, but when he has to spea he can only use quotations ot proverbs.
- Roger
So who came first, TH White or Lord Peter Wimsey?
DeleteWhite's book was published in 1957, so Wimsey for the win!
DeleteI suppose in the nature of it, it's a thought that comes to a number of people...
DeleteTack the fabric to tissue paper otherwise it's impossible to cut. Lucy
ReplyDeleteYou so should be on Sewing Bee Lucy!
DeleteI've always been puzzled by the wine-dark sea, but claret just sounds deep red, somehow. The frocks are fabulous, and finally I understand bias cut!
ReplyDeleteI think we have a clear vision of claret no matter what anyone says.
DeleteThere is a much-disputed theory that Homeric Greek did not have a word for blue in the sense that you would use it for the sea...
Interesting that we as modern readers assume "wine-dark" must refer to colour (ie hue) and not to any other aspect of the sea, even though the phrase is "wine-dark" not "wine-coloured" or "wine-red". There seems to be another theory that "wine-dark" (or "wine-faced" which you mention above) has associations with anger, violence, uncontrolled turbulence - nothing at all to do with colour.
DeleteSovay
I love discussions that challenge the way we think about things. The whole Greek/Homer/colour matter is fascinating. But also the way past translations have so influenced later ones, showing the importance of going back to the original.
DeleteI'd expect that the Greeks would have as many words describing the sea as the Eskimos have for snow. Of course seawater is notoriously changeable in color, hard to pin down sometimes.
DeleteWell indeed - so many colours, though not specially wine-related...
DeleteA red wine quote from another poem that might be a better colour match: The King sits in Dunfermline town , drinking the blood red wine…” From the old Scots ballad about Sir Patrick Spens.
ReplyDeleteThat was me, Christine Harding. I think the blood red would be very suitable for a murder mystery, but perhaps not very romantic!
DeleteI was thinking about that - in Georgette Heyer's Regency books there are occasional references to blood as 'clarry' which is meant to mean claret for colour. 'He drew the clarry' by punching someone in the nose..
DeleteI don’t recollect that - I obviously need to read more Georgette Heyer!
Deletealways! But I would be hopeless at actually pinning down the references I remember....
DeleteRidiculous as the comment about 1870s fashions seems, I did come across this blog talking about "the bustle influence" with a 30s pattern compared to the 1880s. Bit far-fetched though (but note another wine-coloured frock) https://witness2fashion.wordpress.com/2014/12/03/1931-evening-dresses-the-bustle-influence/
ReplyDeleteI have used that very illo of the two women on posts - I considered it when looking for claret-coloured, but decided the Xmas tree was too distracting!
DeleteIt made a great article, but pushing it a bit to describe those bows as bustles....
Didn't Elizabeth Daly have a similar description as to a 1930's character's dress resembling something from the 19th century? 1830's or 1840's IIRC. Maybe she and Sayers read the same fashion magazines....
ReplyDeleteOh yes, you are quite right, I'd forgotten that! I covered it here https://clothesinbooks.blogspot.com/2024/03/murders-in-volume-2-by-elizabeth-daly.html
DeleteIsn't that interesting? Perhaps it's like the wine-dark sea - there used to be a different way of looking at things...
What a plethora of pictures of gowns. (Plethora doesn't sound right but I think it is.) For me, many of the gowns look better in drawings than when actually worn. I particularly like the last illustration.
ReplyDeleteFashion drawings always have such great proportions, I think it's unfair for the rest of us to have to try to look like that! Except for supermodels.
DeleteYes I love that one with the group of people, it looks like a real scene.
I cannot see the term "shapewear" without hearing Mrs. Slocombe answering the 'phone: "Ladies' intimate apparel." --Trollopian (obviously I have catholic tastes, with a lower-case c!)
ReplyDeleteYes, that was unexpected. Grace Brothers forever....
DeleteThat reference to the 1870's doesn't seem so strange to me. Fashion had come out of a period where dresses were tubular, no bosom, no bum. And then suddenly in the 1930's the focus shifts to the back. The tops were low-cut at the back, and those frills and bows accentuated the lower part. Something similar had happened in the 1870's, when the wide crinoline skirts transformed into drapes at the back. To contemporaries those 30's dresses were a big change, even though to us they look slim and slinky.
ReplyDeleteThat was me, Clare.
DeleteThanks for helpful input!
DeleteBias-cut dresses require either Spanx, or the figure of a sixteen year old gymnast. They are very unforgiving.
ReplyDeleteEven if loose? I know what you mean, but I would hate to discourage people from trying....
DeleteThis comment is from Birgitta - so sorry B, I accidentally deleted it when I was getting rid of a load of spam! I have rescued the text - here it is:
DeleteI totally agree about the unforgiving character of bias-cut dresses. They will cling to your body like a second skin, cruelly revealing absolutely every little bulge everywhere, even ones you didn't now you had. It doesn't matter how large the dress is; it will never be loose, it WILL CLING while travelling downwards, where the surplus material will make a pool on the floor which will trip you over, thereby adding insult to injury. And as if that is not enough, a bias-cut dress cannot really be hung on a hanger because then it will become lopsided after a while. Avoid them, I say.
I like the Anti-Bias-Cut-League forming here, on a mission.
Delete