Coco Chanel_ An Intimate Life - Lisa Chaney [60]
There are several versions of how Gabrielle came to use it, but the gist of the story is that she had met a textile manufacturer named Jean Rodier, who showed her some material he had made up as an experiment before the war. He had intended his machine-made knit for use as underwear for sportsmen, but they found it too scratchy. A machine knit was just what Gabrielle had been looking for, and to Rodier’s surprise, she bought the lot. It was its very soberness, which had not drawn others to it, that Gabrielle found attractive, and she asked Rodier to make her up another lot as well as the one she was already buying.
He refused, saying he was doubtful she would ever sell it. And with the war making raw materials difficult to obtain, he was unwilling to run the risk of wasting a consignment. Why didn’t she make it up, and if her outfits sold, come back to him for more? Gabrielle’s insistence was useless—Rodier was adamant. His reluctance to weave for this woman, who wanted to make into outerwear for her wealthy customers this humble material that had even failed to sell for use as underwear, was reasonable. Of course, with hindsight, we know that Gabrielle proved Rodier wrong.
At first, she used Rodier’s natural cream and gray jersey; then, when he saw that she really could sell it, they collaborated to create some beautiful new colors, as noted above. They also developed corals, Madonna blue, what was described as “old-blue,” and various greys. By 1916, when Women’s Wear Daily heralded the fact that Gabrielle was “the one to bring jersey into prominence,” Vogue described her salon as “The Jersey House.” (Gabrielle wasn’t the only designer to use the fabric, but she was undoubtedly the most innovative, and the one who transformed it into a high-fashion textile.) War shortages and high prices meant that through Gabrielle’s triumphant lead, jersey would overtake more familiar materials such as twill-woven serge, now in great demand for the armed forces’ uniforms. In the summer of 1916, Vogue revealed Gabrielle’s growing influence when describing the promenade of one of the most distinguished streets in the world:
The Avenue of the Bois de Boulogne presents a rather animated appearance. There is the brilliancy of all the Allied uniforms, starred with decorations of all kinds, and there is the measured clank of swords . . . There is the sprinkling of the new frocks . . . against the background of neutral-tinted garments which are affected just now. There is the subdued woolen glow of jersey cloth . . . the liking for jersey has . . . developed into a passion—a veritable craze. Everyone goes clad in jersey; in palest gray, in beige, in white, and in all shades of blue. Bordeaux jersey is smart . . . and for young girls there is a red . . . the modish jersey frock is exceedingly simple in line . . . [jersey] is cool looking and indescribably chic.
Although jersey was to be the material Gabrielle used most commonly during the war for day clothes, she would also make inspired use of a small number of other fabrics, such as suede for hats as well as coats and jackets, sometimes embroidered with decorative bands. For afternoon and evening, she created dresses of satin, velvet and tulle. On occasion, these were embroidered with cotton, silks or beads. At their best, her clothes were astonishingly beautiful in their masterly unification of fabric, simplicity of design and decoration. In November 1916, Vogue gave a hint of impatience that Gabrielle’s apparently limitless capacity to design using the previously downmarket jersey was clearly not shared by the readers, when it informed them that “it has been rumored lately that women were growing tired of jersey, but Chanel is master of her art, and her jersey frocks are as complete and as daintily finished as frocks of more thoroughly patrician stuffs.”
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