The deep and sexy V; the informal and fluid lines; long, tight sleeves; the silky and sensual sweater. Could there be anything more chic than a Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress? Or, for that matter, the woman who wears one?
Jerry Hall, Michelle Obama, Kate Moss, Madonna and even the Princess of Wales have succumbed to its charms. And as this iconic garment turns 50, its popularity shows no signs of slowing down.
All my life I’ve wanted to belong to the DVF club, to be one of those fabulously cool Studio 54-style girls who can just throw one on and go out, casual in a pair of espadrilles or sexy with fabulous knees. Waders.
Diane von Furstenberg in an early version of her silk knit wrap dress, 1973
I can’t express how much I aspire to be that type of woman, how much I love wrap dresses.
If only they loved me. But it’s not like that. In fact, I would dare say that they have it in store for me. Wrap dresses, especially the DVF type (other brands are available), are designed for a very particular female body type.
Born in the 1970s, they largely adhere to the predominant aesthetic of the time: that is, thin shoulders, neat arms, small, perky breasts, and neat butts.
The type of body you used to see in advertisements for Charlie perfume (another of my youthful obsessions) or on the hood of a car in a men’s magazine. The kind that is the result of chance genes or a strict diet of Quaaludes and vodka, or that infamous egg and wine diet popularized by Fashion In the 70s.
Diane wearing a leopard print version with Andy Warhol in 1974, the year it was released.
If you have anything approaching a curvy shape (in my case, some rather vulgar and unruly knockers, a bit of a paunch, and extremely stubborn bingo wings), they just make you look like Humpty Dumpty.
Even when I was young and theoretically lean, I could never get them to work. The wrap part was never enough to cover my chest, which meant I always had to wear them with a slip, completely ruining the vibe.
The sleeves always made my arms too tight, cutting off circulation, and making me think of unflattering comparisons to sausages.
But I still tried. Over the years, I’ve wasted a lot of money searching for the perfect wrap dress, the same way I buy juicers in the hopes of becoming Deliciously Ella, but they end up unworn in my wardrobe before being shuffled, then in due time. , to the charity shop.
Jerry Hall in the 1970s; Magnet in the 1980s
Madonna in the 2000s; The Princess of Wales in the 2010s
Last week I sent the last one, not a DVF but a Biba imitation from a few years ago, from that collaboration with House of Fraser. I had been holding on to it in the vague hope that one day I would try it on and discover that all those Pilates sessions had finally turned me into a wrap dress girl, but alas, no. ‘Who are you trying to fool?’
The wrap dress manages to be attractive without looking acidic or adhering to “sexy” clichés.
I thought to myself as I examined my reflection in my bedroom mirror. “You’re 56. That DVF wrap dress ship has already sailed.”
Von Furstenberg herself always described the dress as a symbol of female emancipation and sexual freedom. She has been compared to Coco Chanel for her role in liberating the female form from the limitations of wiring and tailoring.
Emma Thompson in the 2020s
And while it’s true that the wrap dress is theoretically adjustable and very comfortable to wear, in some ways its clean lines and simplicity, like Chanel’s, actually introduced another form of body tyranny: the requirement that women be thin. , a notion that became the dominant beauty standard in the 70s and has remained that way to this day.
Ultimately, though, I think the success of the wrap dress is that it makes women of a certain slim body type feel sexy, without making them feel vulnerable.
Short skirts, strappy dresses, sheer fabrics – these are things that may seem nice to the opposite sex, but are ultimately quite limiting, uncomfortable and restrictive for the wearer, and very obviously designed to cater to the male gaze. .
The wrap dress, on the other hand, manages to be attractive without seeming sarcastic or adhering to any of the “sexy” clichés. It’s flirty while allowing the wearer to remain elegant and in control, as appropriate in the boardroom as it is on a bar stool, cocktail in hand. That is its power and, ultimately, the secret to its eternal appeal.
If only I had the body to use it.