There is only one thing I hate about the Tudors, and it’s that infernal song “I’m Henry the Eighth I am, ‘Enry the Eighth I am, I am. . .” It reminds me of squeaking seats on rickety school buses and the odour of glue and smushed peanut butter sandwiches. Poor Tudors, they deserve so much better.
The Rainbow Portrait, c1600. Isaac Oliver.
Henry VIII. Artist unknown.
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I finished Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel’s Booker Prize-winning novel, during Christmas break. It was amazing and reminded me why I love Tudor England. I’ll tell you all about how amazing Wolf Hall is later, though, because this post is not about weighty, masterful books. No siree. This post is about the utter fabulousness of Tudor style.* For your consideration:
I find Queen Elizabeth fascinating. It’s so interesting the way she used fashion and make-up to flaunt her feminity, her power** and, curiously, her purity. The otherworldly white lead make-up, the pearls and bows on the black overgown, the strings of pearls around her neck, the ephemeral lace – fragile yet indestructible – at her cuffs and collar. And then those SLEEVES! They are not only humongous, but pearl-encrusted. This is armour that simultaneously protects and entices, and is loaded with symbolism (the austere lines echoing her Protestant leanings, the pearls symbolizing purity.) She appears larger, and brighter, than her surroundings.
Here are some other favourite portraits. I love how as the Queen aged and became more assertive her clothing followed suit. Please note that the dates given reflect the painting date, not the event’s date.
c. 1546 by William Scrots.
Queen Elizabeth I's coronation, c. 1600. Artist unknown.
I love these next two paintings, each done by Nicholas Hilliard. Aren’t these gorgeous? The birds refer to the pendants she’s wearing in the center of her bodice. These are great examples of her use of symbolism. The phoenix, a symbol of rebirth, and the pelican are both symbols of sacrifice. A popular legend at the time held that a pelican, in need of food for her ailing children, pierced herself and nourished her children with her own blood. Her choices reflect the re-emergence of Tudor power and her fidelity to her subjects.
The Phoenix Portrait, c1575. Attributed to Nicholas Hilliard.
The Pelican Portrait, c1575. Attributed to Nicholas Hilliard.
It’s also great to note that the Queen’s hands feature prominently in her portraits. While she scoffed at vanity in public, privately she was quite vain, and very proud of her hands.
Elizabeth I: The Hardwick Portrait, c1599. Nicholas Hilliard and his workshop.
Look at the whimsical design of the skirt above – flowers, sea horses, serpents and frogs. The juxtaposition of the skirt with the reptilian defenses of her sleeves is delightful. It’s the uber-posh predessor of the beat-up leather jacket worn over a frothy ball gown. It also reminds me of these Prada shoes:
image courtesy of faboulista . com
One of the things I love about living in the 2000s is the opportunity to gaze slack-jawed and drooling at wasp-waists and 10-pound headdresses from the comfortable cocoon of leggings and a slouchy cashmere sweater, knowing I can wake up tomorrow and pair my vintage Pendleton skirt with some faux-Tudor gems and a quirky Etro blouse.
Tell me, what historic fashion beguiles you, and how do you make it modern?
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* For an insanely luxurious, modern take on Tudor style, check out this post at A Bloomsbury Life.
**similar to the way the kings used their armour to emphasize (exaggerate) their masculinity. Have you seen some of those codpieces?
Great post Sariah, I love each and every painting but particularly the queens coronation 1600, artist unknown, . I recently did a photo shoot where Elizabeth was a starting point, I think you might like it , I will be posting it at the end of the month, x x