Women in black?

Do you remember when black was worn only during death and funerals in the family?  That’s a solid year of wearing a color described as an absence of light. Even then, young daughters were exempted from donning it. “Little girls must not carry the grief of losing a loved one,” my mother said.

When I turned 18, Josefina Gonzalez of the House of R.T. Paras made a soft, billowy cocktail dress in French chiffon for me. “Tita Inang, is this really mine?” I asked. “You’re a young lady now,” she said. “Black will bring out the sparkle in your eyes and reflect the glow of the moon on your face.”  I never questioned Tita Inang’s fashion judgment but nevertheless, I turned to my mother.  “If you wear it with sand pearls, you would look very grown-up,” she smiled.

I patiently waited for the right occasion to wear it and it came when my Lolo Perfecto turned 81.  My father threw a coming-out party at the Sky Room of the Jai Alai, an art deco building in old Manila.  To tickle the birthday boy, we switched the numbers so that the sign read, Lolo Perfecto is 18!

Everyone dressed to the nines for an evening of partying, but shucks! To my distress, all came in black. I didn’t stand out; I simply merged.  However, a young man that I had a crush on led me to the dance floor and whispered, “You are so beautiful.” Twang! I felt like a coiled wire that suddenly sprung loose.  My feet turned jelly and the blush on my cheeks was like Frank Sinatra singing giddily, “You go to my head like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew.”

I read in a review of the book, Coco Chanel: The Legend and the Life, Chanel made the little black dress (LBD) a must-have and a must-wear in every woman’s wardrobe.  Black is essential, the one that will take her practically anywhere.  It also chops off the silhouette so that no one is absolutely out of whack even in front of a carousel mirror.  It can transform a timid girl to an enchantress, alluring and seductive.  Chanel sketched a simple yet elegant sheath, in black crêpe de Chine, with long, narrow sleeves that became the toast of the fashion industry some eight decades ago.  Vogue proved to be correct in the prediction that “black would become a uniform.” 



Grace Kelly wearing a black V-neck bodice with a full tulle skirt with lace appliques. Grace wore this in Rear Window, a movie by Alfred Hitchcock.

For every black attire that Tita Inang made, my confidence grew, adding a layer of poise and élan:  A black Swiss lace appliqué on a skin-colored lining announced an ingénue who was raring to see the world and conquer it. A silk brocade with cloisonné snaps infused color to a pale, yellow, oriental skin; in organdy, it gave a dashing hint of going out on a limb to make a stand; and on a V-neck bodice with a tulle skirt adorned with tiny floral patterns, it gave a femme fatale mystique.  (The latter was a take-off on the dress that Grace Kelly wore in Alfred Hitchcock’s thriller Rear Window).  Black in crushed linen, cotton piqué, and seersucker was also ideal at work because by merely switching accessories, I was appropriately dressed when dusk called.

In time, however, black became monotonous and dreary.  It blended into a single moody landscape.  If you see women wearing black in stores, restaurants, clubs, and even in music concerts and stage plays, they look the same cookie-cutter stamped with boredom. 

I also discovered that if you use hot iron on any black fabric, a hideous silver sheen appears on the surface, making the dress look old and scruffy.  No moon glow or sparkling champagne could cover or revive that.  Tip:  Always iron anything dark on the reverse side.

Black for mourning: Jackie Kennedy at the funeral of her assassinated husband President John F. Kennedy in November 1963

Once, I accompanied a friend to the bridal boutique of Vera Wang in New York.  I watched Vera sketch a bridal gown that was delicate and soft, capturing the features of a dreamy-eyed bride-to-be.  When she finished sketching, she turned towards the older women in the bridal entourage and pleaded,  “Please, for love’s sake, don’t ask anyone to dress in black.”  She, too, noticed an overkill of black to the extent that the color wheel had been revamped so that no vibrant colors can compete with black.

In Milan, I saw one model in a black taffeta wedding gown.  She reminded me of actress Winona Ryder as Dracula’s bride.  The Italian designer defended his offbeat, bizarre creation, “What is the trademark of the black widow spider?  It devours its mate after a night of lovemaking.”  I didn’t take him seriously until I saw buyers and merchandisers snatching the gown in frenzy. 

Recently, fashion expert Nina Garcia confirmed in an interview that the little black dress would remain a classic.

Black is still supremely chic, just don’t overdo it.   

To hard-working and driven builders and dreamers, the color celebrates a short simple (but important) song of success:  Oompah-pah, our bottom line is in the black.