Eye candy: an opulently illustrated new book from TASCHEN delves into the history of costume jewels
As in so many sartorial matters, Coco Chanel had the last word on jewellery. The notion of wearing real gems to show off one’s wealth was, she remarked, like “wearing a cheque around your neck”. Instead, bijoux should be “an ornament and an amusement”. This was a radical statement in the 1920s, when costume jewellery was a concept only beginning to be appreciated. When perusing Taschen’s new book Costume Jewelry, however, her words spring to mind time and again.
The book documents 30 years of collecting by the Italian arts patron Patrizia Sandretto Re Rebaudengo. Although she’s also an art connoisseur, Sandretto Re Rebaudengo’s chief passion is not for works that hang statically on walls or languish in vaults; she likes to wear her acquisitions, making the nature of her interests quite unique. “I was intrigued by the way in which the exquisite jewellery designs contrast with the humble materials used in their manufacture,” she says.
Unlike most fashionistas, Sandretto Re Rebaudengo chooses outfits to complement her jewellery, rather than the other way around. As fashion critic Maria Luisa Frisa reveals in the essay that concludes the book, the collector stores her treasures in cabinets with sliding drawers, each item identified by a photo and index card so it can be easily accessed or packed for travel.
The book is organised in loosely themed chapters – sometimes dedicated to important designers like Miriam Haskell and William de Lillo (Sandretto Re Rebaudengo’s favourite), sometimes exploring decorative tropes. Each section is whimsically headed with a song title – a fruit-and-flower-themed chapter, for instance, is represented by George Gershwin’s Summertime.
One of the most illuminating aspects is British Vogue contributor Carol Woolton’s introduction, which tells how the phenomenon of costume jewellery came into being from the 1930s onwards. She traces its origins in the diaspora of European craftsmen who emigrated to the United States after World War One, taking with them skills honed in fine jewellery houses, and in the democratisation of American fashion and society, which produced a newly emancipated audience of women eager to make independent style choices.
The new pursuits of travel and cocktail parties demanded a more irreverent, extrovert style of gem than the staid diamonds and pearls of yore: Princess Margaret wore her Kenneth Jay Lane gems to go swimming in Mustique, which you couldn’t do with Cartier. New plastic-based materials, such as Lucite and Bakelite, made ever more fanciful designs possible, as evidenced by the “Jelly Bellies” animal creations that Sandretto Re Rebaudengo collects widely.
Nobody knows for sure who coined the term “costume jewellery” – Frisa suggests a theatrical link via William Hobé, whose creations adorned Ziegfeld Follies showgirls – but Sandretto Re Rebaudengo favours the Italian term gioielli fantasia, which seems somehow more appropriate: this really is the stuff of fantasy.
Costume Jewelry, published November 4 by Taschen, £100, taschen.com
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